RUTHLESS KING

3 A SURPRISE AND A TWIST

Stella
I’m still trying to convince myself some knee-busting loan shark isn’t
coming after us as I walk up the steps with the heaping tray of spaghetti and
meatballs. Grazie a Dio for Mrs. D. She is not a big fan of my dad, so I had
to lie and promise the delicious meal was for my mouth only.
I pause on the last step and peer around the corner. All clear. I release a
breath, chastising myself for being so paranoid. So Dad owed twenty-five k
to some unnamed organization? It didn’t mean we were going to get killed
for it, right?
As I creep down the hallway, something catches my eye in front of our
door. I narrow my gaze and inch closer. A book? I hurry the last few steps
as my pulse accelerates. My eyes finally settle on the massive text and the
post-it note taped to the cover.
How did Bo rescue it from the subway? I should’ve been thankful, but it
would’ve never ended up on the tracks if the dickhead hadn’t chucked it on
there in a jealous fit.
Gently lowering the heaping container of pasta to the floor, I nearly
crumple up the note until I focus on the smooth penmanship. It’s not from
Bo. I’d recognize his choppy writing anywhere. Bending closer, I scan the
neatly penned words.

      You forgot something when you ran off without thanking
me.
An unexpected chuckle bursts from my lips. I turn the note around to search
for a signature but only find a crude design—of a crown, maybe? For
someone with such neat writing, my subway savior couldn’t draw for shit.
I pick up the book and the attached post-it and press it against my chest.
That new book smell wafts up my nostrils. My rescuer hadn’t just recovered
it before it got smashed to smithereens by the subway; he’d bought me an
entirely new one. That was pretty decent of the guy. These textbooks are
expensive as hell.
“If you wanted me to thank you, you should’ve at least left me your
name,” I mumble out loud. Great, now I was talking to myself. Dad’s
gambling problems were already getting to me.
Between the book and the platter, I don’t have enough hands to open the
door, so I give the worn wood a little kick.
I hear the squeak of the peephole opening a second before the front door
whips open, and Dad’s wide eyes bore into me. He scans the empty
corridor, then releases a breath. Damn, how bad of a situation had he gotten
us into? Did he really think his booky would be coming for us already?
Before I can ask, Dad grabs the platter from my hands and dips back
inside. He either doesn’t notice the huge book or doesn’t care enough to
ask. Probably the latter. “Save me some!” I call out as he disappears into the
kitchenette.
Mrs. DeVito’s spaghetti and meatballs are almost as good as Mom’s. Or
at least that’s how I remember it. I trudge into my bedroom which is actually the living room with a makeshift wall to give the pretense of
privacy. Not that I’d ever bring a guy home with me anyway. After Bo, I’d
sworn off all men. They just weren’t worth the hassle.
Maybe the sun-kissed surfers in Florida would be different. I could
hope, anyway.
Dropping the brand-new textbook on my desk in the corner, I heave out
a breath. Just a little over a month and school would be over. I’ll finish out
the summer working at Mrs. D’s and hopefully I’ll have enough money
saved for my grand escape. I sure as hell wasn’t giving a penny of my
savings to Dad for that gambling debt. After my run-in with Bo today, I’d
decided that even if I didn’t make it into any of the universities in Florida, I
was out of here one way or another.
“Shit.” Dad’s muttered curse tears my thoughts from sunny beaches to
my dismal reality.
I hurry out of my room and catch him with a mouthful of spaghetti
glaring at the screen on his old flip phone. “What’s wrong?”
“We’re fucked that’s what.”
My head snaps back at the bitter edge to his tone. He curses like a sailor
when he’s drunk, but his gaze is clear now.
He swallows down the big bite and drags his hand over his balding
head, pacing the small length of our apartment. “That Jimmy screwed me
over big time.”
“What does that mean?” The guy was a booky; he made money on
screwing people over. What the hell did he expect?
His eyes meet mine for only a second before they drop to the floor.
“That ‘free’ money and ‘sure thing’ came from the Red Dragons.”
No … my stomach takes a nosedive, nausea clawing its way up my
throat. No. No. No. Of all the scumbags in Manhattan why did my dad owe
twenty-five grand to my ex and the Chinese Triad? A horrifying thought races to the forefront of my mind. Had Bo planned this whole thing? Was
this all some twisted attempt to get me back?
I grab my dad’s phone and throw it at him. “Ask Jimmy if Bo Zhang
had anything to do with this sure thing.”
He eyes the cell I just tossed him like it’s a live grenade. “What are you
talking about, Stella?”
I keep most of my life hidden from my father. He’s too wasted to
remember what I tell him anyway. He kind of knew I was dating the asshole
and that we broke up but that was the extent of it. He had no idea I was
seconds away from filing a restraining order against the guy. After weeks of
harassment, today was the last straw. I didn’t care if I got shit from the Red
Dragons, but now … now that Dad owed them money, we were royally
screwed.
“Remember Bo? The guy I was dating? He’s been trying to get back
together with me since we broke up. I wouldn’t be surprised if he planned
the whole thing.” The guy is a devious little stronzo.
A flash of hope sifts through the gray haze. “This is it, then, our chance.
He’s one of their leaders, isn’t he? You can talk to him and work out a deal
or something.”
“No way,” I snarl. It took me almost a year to get out of that train wreck
of a relationship. Bo was crazy jealous and possessive. He abused me in
every way possible. It had taken me hours of online therapy to realize what
we had wasn’t healthy. That’s how badly my dad had effed me up. I thought
abuse was normal in a relationship.
Dad drops to his knees, the old floorboards creaking under the sudden
weight. “Please, Stella, please.” He reaches for my hands, squishing my
fingers between his. “You don’t know what those guys could do to me ….
We’ve already lost your mom and Vinny.” He chokes up, and hot tears well
in my eyes. Cazzo, this man knows how to get to me. “Do you really want
to lose me too?” I huff out a breath and wriggle free of his hold. His hands are moist and
clammy, and pity surges to the surface. I should let him pay for his
mistakes, but he’s right, I can’t risk losing him. He’s all I have left. “Fine,
I’ll go talk to Bo.” I pause and inhale a steadying breath. Just the idea of
seeing him again has me wanting to reach for my inhaler. “Under one
condition.”
“Thank you, Stella, thank you. I’ll do anything.”
I sear my father with my steeliest glare. “No more gambling. For real
this time. Delete Jimmy’s number, cancel your subscription service for
weekly tips, all of it.”
His watery eyes latch onto mine, and that damned pity rears its head
again. “I swear, Stel. It’s done. I’ll never waste a single penny again. I only
did it for you, you know. After all you’ve suffered, I just want a better life
for you.”
My heart clenches at his words despite knowing better. He’s an
alcoholic, addicted to gambling, and a liar. I’ve heard this story countless
times before, but still, I want to believe him. “If you want a better life for
me, then let me go.”
He nods slowly. “Once this is over, I’ll do anything you want. You want
to go to Florida? I’ll help you get out of here; I swear.”
“Good,” I grumble. “Now go take a shower, Dad. You stink.”
The hint of a smile curls his lips, and for an instant, the ghost of my dad
reappears. The sober one, the one that was happily married with two kids.
As much as I hate him sometimes, I can’t help but think back on that
version. Mom’s death knocked him down, and Vinny’s was the final
knockout punch.
He slowly rises, shoulders rounded as he attempts to straighten. “You
deserve so much better, Stel.”
“Yeah, I know, which is why I’m trying so damned hard to get the hell
out of here.” Dad cups my cheek, his rough palm so different than the soft touch I
remembered as a child. “You will. You always accomplish whatever you set
your mind to.” With one final lingering glance, he turns away and shuffles
toward the bathroom.
The minute the door slams closed I slump down on the couch. Angry
butterflies batter my insides at the thought of groveling to my ex. Bo is a
manipulative bastard, and somehow, I just know he planned this. It’s his
way of ensuring I’ll be bound to him forever.
Little does he know I’ll be out of here in a few short weeks anyway.
Forcing myself off the couch, I trudge to my half of the living room. If this
is going to work, I’ll have to make it believable. Rifling through my closet,
I pick out my sexiest dress. It’s the one I wore on our first date. With a
plunging neckline and soft, slinky material, it hugs all my Italian curves. It’s
Bo’s favorite. He always said Asian women were too skinny, and he liked a
little meat on his girl. All that stupid shit I bought into.
My stomach churns at the thought of his hands on me. Shaking my
head, I force the nauseating images away. It won’t come to that. I’ll make
empty promises, anything to erase my father’s debts. With any luck, I’ll be
long gone before I have to pay up.