Chapter 11 - My Father’s HandsDominic fired first.
The sound shattered the room.
Gabriel’s second gun spun across the floor before he could raise it fully. He collapsed against the hospital bed, clutching his wrist, his face twisted with shock more than pain.
My father moved faster than any dead man had the right to move.
He kicked Gabriel’s weapon away, then crossed the room and grabbed me.
For one second, I was seven years old again. My cheek pressed against his chest. His coat smelled like rain and antiseptic and something familiar beneath it, something I had mourned until grief became part of my bones.
Then I shoved him.
Hard.
He let me.
“You were alive,” I said.
His face crumpled.
“Amelia—”
“No. You were alive.”
“I had to protect you.”
“You let me bury an empty coffin.”
“I know.”
“You let Mom lose her mind alone.”
Pain crossed his face. “Your mother did not lose her mind. She was poisoned slowly. I tried to stop it.”
“You tried from where? The shadows?”
“Yes,” he said, and there was no defense in his voice. “From the shadows. From dirty rooms. From borrowed names. From places where men like Carlo Russo couldn’t easily reach you.”
Dominic stood nearby, gun still on Gabriel.
“You have three seconds to explain why my father is alive too.”
Julian Reed looked at him.
“He is not alive the way you think.”
Sofia’s voice trembled. “Where is Carlo?”
My father turned toward her.
“Sofia.”
She looked at him like he was a wound reopening.
“You promised you would tell them.”
“I promised I would keep Amelia alive.”
“And look how well that worked.”
The hurt between them had history I did not know.
Dominic noticed too.
But there was no time.
Alarms began blaring through the hospital.
My father looked toward the hall. “Luca’s men are coming. Carlo’s men too. They followed Gabriel.”
Dominic grabbed Gabriel by the collar. “Where is Carlo?”
Gabriel laughed through clenched teeth.
“Midnight. Waldorf ballroom.”
My father looked at me. “He’s auctioning the fake Meridian file.”
“Fake?” I asked.
“The journal is bait. The overlay makes it real. Without it, they only have enough truth to kill each other. With it, they can control everyone named inside.”
Dominic’s eyes moved to the compact.
Then to me.
Luca needed me alive until midnight because I could read the file. Carlo needed the overlay. Volkov needed the list. Everyone needed something.
For once, I held the one thing they all wanted.
And I was so tired of being wanted by monsters.
“My mother,” I said.
My father’s face softened. “She’s at the ballroom.”
“Luca has her?”
“No,” he said. “Carlo does.”
Dominic went very still.
Sofia whispered, “He kept Elena?”
My mother’s name in Sofia’s mouth sounded like another secret.
Julian nodded. “As insurance. Against me.”
I felt sick.
My entire childhood had been shaped by people making moves around me, hiding truth from me, deciding what I could survive.
Not anymore.
I opened the compact and removed the overlay.
“Then we go to the ballroom.”
Dominic shook his head. “No.”
I laughed. “You don’t get a vote.”
“You are not walking into a room full of men who want to use you.”
“I’ve been doing that since I was nineteen. At least tonight I know it.”
My father reached for my hand. “Amelia, please.”
I pulled away.
“You taught me every code you knew. You trained me to notice exits, lies, patterns, accents, hands. You made me into this and then begged me to stay small.”
His eyes filled.
I held up the overlay.
“I am done being small.”
Sofia smiled faintly.
Dominic looked at me for a long, unreadable second.
Then he said, “Fine.”
My father closed his eyes.
Dominic continued, “But we do it my way.”
I looked at him.
“And what way is that?”
May you like
His expression turned cold enough to make even Gabriel stop smiling.
“We let them think they won.”
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