Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 496 -

*Olivia*

I stared at Tallon, my heart beating in my throat. I'd been wrong, so wrong when I told Gio I didn't know whether I wanted my dad rescued, when I told him I didn't care if he died. Of course, I cared.

How could I not care? My flesh-and-blood father lay in the other room, maybe dying or already dead, and I couldn't think about anything other than what I'd say to him... if I ever got to say anything again.

Tallon inhaled. He was going to tell us Sal died. I knew it. I could see it in the set of his shoulders, the heavy downturn of his mouth. I had a father for a few short months. He betrayed me, and then he died because I said to leave him in Russian custody longer.

"He's resting," Tallon said.

The balloon of tension holding me up popped, and I slumped against Gio.

Resting.

Resting meant alive, meant okay, meant I would get to say something other than screaming profanities at him.

Gio held me up, warm and strong and safe. God, I was so lucky to have him.

"Doc got the bullet out," Tallon continued. "Stitched a couple of cuts, set a couple of bones, and left him with some painkillers." He shrugged. "He's not awake yet, but he's stable."

Tears gathered in my eyes. I believed Sal really only ever meant to hurt Gio. I couldn't forgive him that either, not without serious making up for it, but at least I could tell him I believed him. That would be enough for me.

I looked in at Elio, still sleeping. I couldn't forgive Sal for anything he did that quickly.

Gio rubbed my shoulders. "He's alright, carina. Everything is alright."

The tears spilled over. I thought I'd be all out after days of crying about Elio, but I had more inside me still. Everything was alright, or it would be once they figured out how to eliminate Lorenz for good.

But I had to admit I was getting damn tired of always having to tack that on at the end of my joy.

Gio squeezed me close and turned to Tallon. "What happened? How did you get him? Any collateral?"

I flinched. I hoped to God there wasn't collateral. I wanted my father alive, wanted it worse than even I knew, but I didn't want anyone else hurt for his sake.

Through Gio's arms, I saw Tallon glance at me and raise an eyebrow. Then, I felt Gio nod.

Even as tears tumbled down my cheeks, a wave of frustration flowed through my system. I'd done my time on the outs, earned my way in. I just wanted to share everything with my husband, not always need permission to hear the details of his work.

"Lorenz kept a little house a few blocks over from where Sal lived. Looked like any other row house, except for the bulletproof windows. We followed him there and spotted Sal when they lifted him up during an-" he glanced at me again. "During an interrogation."

I grimaced. They only found my father because he'd been beaten within an inch of his life for choosing at the very last moment to side with me. Guilt spurred another wave of tears, and I fought to keep them quiet. Gio noticed anyway and held me a little tighter. He didn't judge me for breaking down anymore, and that steadied me a little.

Tallon cleared his throat. "We didn't lose anyone. Most of them were armed with automatics, and we got too close for them to be safely used in a row house pretty quickly. Couple of knife wounds, but nothing that took more than three stitches."

Gio shook his head. "Rookie mistake in this town. We're all piled on top of each other. You have to be smarter than that."

Another wave of relief broke over me-there were no casualties, no serious injuries, even. We hadn't pulled the doctor away from one of Gio's men to treat my father. From what I'd seen of mafia men, most of them could probably do three stitches by themselves.

Suddenly, violently, I had the strangest feeling of looking at myself from the outside. A few years ago, I'd been Olivia Robinson, art student abroad, with no more serious concerns than how I was going to keep track of Dahlia as she slept her way through half of Italy.

Somehow, in two short years, I'd become Olivia Valentino, mob wife, well enough versed in the business to know what sort of injuries foot soldiers could patch up on their own. I loved Gio and Elio, loved my life in Italy, but I suddenly, didn't know if I loved that transformation.

Worse, I was about to be Olivia Valentino without my best friend around to remind me who Olivia Robinson had been.

The thought startled me out of my tears. I wiped my eyes and disentangled myself from Gio. If I was going to be a mob wife, I had to do it properly.

"Took out about six of their guys," Tallon continued, "but it didn't seem like they had any other operations running out of that place. No cookers, no books. But we didn't exactly do an in-depth search." Gio nodded. "Sal needed immediate treatment."

Tallon grimaced a little. "That, and we didn't exactly make a clean exit. There were eight guys in the house. Two escaped over the roofs, and we didn't want to be around when they came back."

"Fuck," Gio hissed. "Saw faces?"

Tallon nodded.

Gio ran a hand through his hair. "I guess it's nothing they didn't know. Lorenz wouldn't have offered the trade if he didn't think we wanted Sal."

"Just means we have to hit back fast," Tallon replied. "That's another part of why we brought him here."

I smoothed my hands down my legs, staring at the cow-patterned leggings I'd chosen for an easy day at home with Elio. I'd thought I might do some painting while he napped, something to commemorate his triumphant return. But I should've known life around here didn't stop. I couldn't ever dress for a regular day when catastrophe might strike at any moment.

"Because he may have valuable information." Gio nodded slowly. "Well, he owes us his life now. Let's hope that keeps him as talkative as he was the other night."

I swallowed. Gio's voice had taken on that steely tone I always thought of as his Don voice, the one that brooked no disagreement. He had saved my father because he though it might make me unhappy if he died, but that didn't mean he was above doing what he had to do to get the information he needed. I knew all too well how many of the men I interacted with on a daily basis were skilled in, as Tallon had put it, interrogation.

Talon nodded sharply. "I'll put as many guards as we can spare at his bedside and let you know as soon as he wakes."

"You don't have to do that," I said suddenly.

Tallon's eyes darted to me in surprise. I'd surprised myself, honestly.

"I mean, the guards, sure," I corrected. "But I want to sit with him, at least for a little. That's what family does when family is sick."

My voice held admirably steady as I said the word 'family,' despite the conflicting emotions in my system. I wanted to sit there, wanted to be with him when he woke so I could say what I needed to say, but part of me worried that hatred might overwhelm me when I saw him awake again.

I smothered that part. If it rose up, I could handle it. I was good at this now.

Tallon glanced at Gio, sending a frisson of frustration through my system, but Gio looked at me. I met his gaze as evenly as I could. I wanted to look strong, to be strong.

His eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded at Tallon. "Olivia will sit with him, at least until Elio's done napping. I'll send her down in a moment. Thank you for your good work."

Tallon left without another word, closing the door behind him, and Gio narrowed back in on me.

"Something changed in the middle of that." He frowned. "Are you alright?"

I laughed, feeling a bit like a live wire Gio was trying to touch. My emotions strained in all directions. I wanted to be the perfect mob wife for him. I had to be, because he was in the mob, and that meant we would spend the rest of our lives facing disasters like this, and I had to be ready. That was what mattered most, that I could weather the storms.

"I will be," I said.

He cupped my face very gently. "I think you're not telling me the truth."

"I am!" I protested.

I was. I was certain I was. I just needed to turn myself into Olivia Valentino, mob wife, and then I would be telling the truth.

"Carina," he murmured. "Please."

I stared into his eyes and found nothing but love and worry.

Gio loved me as Olivia Robinson. He fell in love with the hapless art student, in over her head. He held me during the disasters and picked up the pieces in the aftermath. And he never once complained. Maybe he didn't want me to become the perfect mob wife.

"Do you ever get tired?" I asked suddenly.

He blinked, taken aback by my line of questioning. "Yes, of course. I've often been exhausted during crises like this. Do you need more sleep?"

"No, I mean tired of-" I waved my arms around. "Tired of this, everything."

"This?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "We can go on another trip soon if you like."

I shook my head, trying to figure out how to ask the question without him getting defensive.

"Not Italy, this life... the constant disasters." I stood and stepped a little closer to Elio's room so I could see his chest rise and fall. "The constant risks."

Gio sighed heavily. "I do, but I knew the risks when I took the job. James was very clear about how much my life would change."

"But it's been a while since then," I pressed. "Are you more tired now than when you were young?"

He leaned back against the couch and stared at the ceiling for a long moment. I crept a bit closer to Elio's room and leaned against the doorframe. He was still there, still sleeping.

"I suppose." Gio picked his head up. "But it seems like there's something else you want to ask me."

I knocked my head back against the doorframe. The couch creaked as he stood and crossed the room to stand in the doorway with me. He put his hands on my shoulders, and I met his eyes.

I didn't need to beat around the bush. I didn't need to become the icy mob wife. I just needed to talk to my husband.

"Do you ever think about retiring?" I asked. "Because I really, really think I want out."