only way he could make me stay is to lock me in and that’s something he’d never do.” To me, at least. Because of what happened to me, Dad hated to force his will on me, which was why I had more freedoms than most girls I knew.
“If you don’t return, I’ll drive to Chicago and get you myself.”
I scoffed. “Don’t you dare. That would be insanity. Dad would kill you on sight. Trust me to handle my father. He won’t force me to stay. I know him.”
Adamo still looked doubtful but he nodded anyway. “All right. I trust you. Promise me to hurry.”
“I will.”
“Dinara!” Dima called across camp, impatience ringing in his voice.
I sighed. “It’s time for me to leave.” Adamo pressed his lips against mine and kissed me passionately. When he pulled back and released me, Dima’s expression had darkened even more.
“Did you tell him goodbye?” Dima asked when we got into the car together.
“It wasn’t a goodbye. It was a see-you-later.”
Dima sent me an exasperated look. “That’s not what your father wants.”
“It’s what I want,” I said sharply.
Chicago felt even less like home than last time. I’d transformed over the last few months. I didn’t bother changing into new clothes before seeing Dad. My boots, tattered jeans, and biker jacket were me and I didn’t want to pretend I was someone else.
Dad’s face flashed with surprise when I entered his office. He scanned my outfit, obviously disgruntled. For him, women should wear dresses and skirts to emphasize their femininity. He got up from his desk chair and strode toward me to pull me into a tight embrace. “It’s good to have you back now. I couldn’t stop worrying about you while you spent time in Camorra territory.”
I gave him a tense smile. He thought I’d returned for good, that I wouldn’t return to camp, to Adamo.
“Dad,” I began, pulling back.
Dad’s eyes tightened. “Your place is here, with your people, with your family.”
“I’m a grown-up, and grown-ups eventually move out and live their own life. You know that I never really felt like I belonged in our circles. I don’t want to schmooze the wives of oligarchs and politicians, or pretend I give a damn about the newest limited-edition bag from Louis Vuitton. I want to be free and do as I please. I don’t want to fulfill my role as a Pakhan’s daughter. I never did. You have Galina and the boys for that. You don’t need me.”
Dad took a step back, his shoulders stiffening. I could tell that he was hurt by my words. “I gave you all the freedom you need, more than any other girl in your position would ever be allowed. All I ask is for you to be loyal.”
My brows snapped together. “Of course, I’m loyal. That I want to spend the year as a race driver in Camorra territory doesn’t mean I’m not loyal to you. I love you Dad. I’d never betray you.”
“You want to be with the Falcone boy.”
“He’s not a boy,” I said. “And yes, I want to be with him. It’s not like we’re going to marry. We just enjoy spending time together.”
Dad stroked my cheek as if I were a delusional child. “This can’t work Dinara. You will be torn between two worlds, worlds that’ll never merge. I don’t want open war with Dante Cavallaro, but if I make peace with the Camorra, his arch-enemy, that’ll be the result. He’s acquired some very important political alleys these last few years and it’ll hurt my business if they start to turn their attention on me.”
“I’m not asking you to risk war with the Outfit, or to make peace with the Camorra. I’m not part of the Bratva, and if I stop doing our websites, then I won’t have any involvement with our business at all. There won’t be a risk of me revealing anything to Adamo, not even by accident. He and I don’t even discuss business details anyway.”
“Dinara, you are a Mikhailov and people will judge you as one. You lived a fantasy for a few months but now you have to face reality. A Mikhailov and a Falcone can’t be together. I can’t allow it.”
I took a step back. “You can’t or you won’t?”
Dad smiled joylessly. “It doesn’t matter. The fact is that you can’t see Adamo Falcone again.”
Anger rushed through my veins. “You’re asking me to stop seeing Adamo?”
“I’m not asking you. You won’t see him again and you won’t set foot on Camorra