The Don's Innocent Collateral

Chapter 11

Amelia’s hands gripped the marble railing so hard her fingers ached, but she couldn't look away. Arthur Quinn was a pathetic sight. His cheap trench coat was soaked through with mountain rain and mud, his thinning hair plastered to his forehead. He looked older, smaller, and vastly more desperate than the man she remembered sitting on their thrift-store couch, throwing away her nursing paychecks on underground card games. "Amelia!" Arthur gasped, his voice cracking as he scrambled toward the base of the stairs. "Amelia, baby, thank God. Tell these animals to let me go! Tell them who I am!" The two Bratva guards stepped smoothly into his path, their boots planting on the marble with a synchronized, heavy thud. Arthur flinched, shrinking back. Nicolai didn't look up at the landing. His dark eyes remained fixed on the sniveling man on the floor. "You know exactly who he is," Nicolai said, his voice a low, lethal hum that vibrated through the massive foyer. "The question is what a rat is doing sniffing around my gates." "I was looking for my daughter!" Arthur protested, pointing a trembling finger up the stairs. "I have a right! I'm her father!" "You surrendered that right the moment you gambled away her money," Nicolai replied flatly. "And you buried it when you walked into a Vipera card room this morning." Arthur went perfectly still. The color completely drained from his bruised face. At the top of the stairs, Amelia felt Sofia’s sharp, calculating gaze shift from Arthur to her, but Amelia didn't care. She descended one step at a time. There was no hurry anymore. Whatever fear she'd carried into this house had burned itself out, leaving only numbness.

She stopped three steps from the bottom. Arthur looked up at her, his eyes wild with frantic calculation. "Amelia, you have to listen to me. This man—he's a monster! The people in the city, they're looking for you. The Italians! They said they'd pay handsomely just to know where you were. I was coming to warn you!" "You were coming to collect a bounty," Amelia said. Her voice didn't echo like Nicolai's, but the absolute deadness in it made Lev shift his weight and look at her closely. "No! Baby, no, I swear!" Arthur pleaded, dropping his hands to his knees. "I owe them, Amelia. If I don't give them something, they'll kill me. You have to ask him—ask your boss to cover it! He already paid fifty grand, what's a little more to a guy like him? Tell him to pay them off, or let me take you to them so we can negotiate!"

For a heartbeat, no one spoke.

He wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. He wanted her to beg her captor for money, or let him hand her over to the butchers hunting her. Sofia let out a low, mocking laugh. "Well. The pedigree certainly shows." Amelia ignored her. She kept her eyes locked on the pathetic man bleeding on the marble. For twenty-four years, this man had been the heavy stone tied around her neck, dragging her underwater every time she fought her way to the surface. "You're not a father," Amelia said, the words falling like ice. "You're a parasite." Arthur’s mouth dropped open. "Amelia—" "I worked double shifts to keep a roof over your head. I came home to a ruined apartment and a man who was ready to take advantage of me because of you." She took one step down, closing the distance. "And now you want to sell me to a cartel so you can play another hand of blackjack. You are nothing to me. Do you hear me? You are dead to me." Arthur’s face twisted from desperation into ugly, panicked rage. "You ungrateful little b***h! I raised you! You owe me—" Before the words fully left his mouth, Nicolai moved. It was blindingly fast. One second Nicolai was standing still, and the next, his heavy combat boot connected with Arthur’s ribs with a sickening crack. Arthur collapsed, screaming, curling into a tight, agonizing ball on the polished stone. Nicolai stood over him without a trace of pity. He never raised his voice. He simply looked down at the writhing man as though he were an insect on the sole of his shoe. "Lev," Nicolai commanded softly. "Boss." "Take this trash to the city limits," Nicolai ordered, his pitch-black eyes devoid of mercy. "If he sets one foot back inside my territory, put a bullet in his kneecaps. If he speaks her name again, cut out his tongue." "Wait, wait, please!" Arthur sobbed, spitting blood. The two massive guards didn't wait. They hauled him up by his armpits and dragged him backward out the front doors. His screams echoed across the courtyard until the massive front doors slammed shut, cutting off the sound completely. The echo of Arthur's screams lingered for a second before the house swallowed it whole.

Sofia stood near the base of the stairs, her pristine white coat untouched, but her smirk had vanished. She looked at Amelia with narrowed, calculating eyes. She finally understood. Amelia wasn't a stray. She was the center of a mafia war, and Nicolai had just brutalized a man for insulting her. Nicolai turned. He ignored Sofia completely. He looked up at Amelia standing on the steps.

His gaze caught the rigid set of her spine, then the white-knuckled fist pressed against her jeans, trying—and failing—to hide the tremor in her hand. The confrontation had left adrenaline roaring through her veins. He didn't ask if she was okay. He knew she wasn't. "Sofia," Nicolai said, his voice entirely dismissive. "Get in your car and go back to the city. My estate is closed." Sofia’s jaw tightened, a flash of genuine fury breaking through her polished mask. "Nicolai, you can't be serious. You're going to war over a nurse?" "Lev," Nicolai said, his eyes never leaving Amelia. "Escort our guest off the mountain." Sofia didn't wait to be escorted. She shot one last, venomous look at Amelia—a promise of absolute destruction—before turning on her heel and marching out the side door toward the garage. Nicolai walked to the base of the stairs. He looked up at Amelia. The tension left his shoulders, but his attention never left her. "Come down," he said quietly. Amelia’s legs felt like lead. The edges of the room were starting to blur, the vertigo creeping in from the sheer emotional exhaustion. She took a step down, but her knee buckled. She didn't fall. Nicolai was there. He closed the distance in two massive strides, catching her before she hit the marble. His broad, warm hands gripped her arms, steadying her effortlessly. "I've got you," he murmured, his voice a low vibration against her chest. "I've got you, moya." Amelia squeezed her eyes shut, leaning into the solid, unmovable wall of his chest. Her father was gone. The Viperas were coming. But as Nicolai’s arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her together, she realized she wasn't alone anymore.