Revenge.
I'm familiar with it. You have to be when you're the firstborn son of a notorious mafia leader. Death and vengeance have been the very foundations of my life.
So who in their fucking mind would be stupid enough to cross me?
My brother and...
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I almost crashed Knox's car. Twice.
It's a miracle that I made it to my house in one piece and an even bigger miracle that I manage to ring the doorbell with a straight face. Moments ago I was hysterical, sobbing and shaking and feeling as though the world fell out beneath me. Then I had to pull it together when the familiar sight of my neighbourhood came into view. The last thing I need is to be asked what's wrong or I'll blurt out everything I've just learned in the past hour.
My father. A rapist.
The thought makes me flinch in defiance because an enormous part of me refuses to believe it. It just can't be true. And who the hell am I going to believe—the man who raised me, taught me how to ride a bike, kissed my scraped palms and bruises, allowed me to have an education, turned a blind eye to my drunken college nights with nothing more than an amused smile, or the man I've been married to for three months who is still such a damn mystery?
He admitted I was always a pawn in his game. He's used me from the beginning. This could be another one of his tactics for all I know. Anything to get back at my father. Made Men have no limits to what they'll do for their own benefit and I've always known that. So who am I to trust Knox Marino over my own father?
Right?
But I saw the anguish on his face. In his eyes, and the way they glazed over, as he told me about what happened all those years ago. The pain that pulled his features tight had been genuine and almost unbearable to look at. Could he really fake a reaction like that? Deep down I knew he couldn't. He barely expressed emotions and tonight was the most I've seen from him. I know that counts for something no matter how much I don't want it to.
The door swings open and my sister crashes into me with a squeal a second later. Her familiar scent engulfs me and I hug her back. So tight. I almost start crying right then because even after everything I've learned, her hugs make me feel like I'll be okay.
"God, I missed you," I whisper into her hair and kiss the crown of her head.
"I'm so glad you're home," she returns with a sniffle that cracks my chest. She pulls back to look at me with her wide doe eyes. "Wait—why are you here? Is everything okay?"
She's too perceptive for her own good. I pull together what I hope is a believable smile and ruffle her hair.
"Of course. Don't tell me you don't want me here."
"You're crazy. I almost stole Father's car to drive over to you more times than I'm willing to admit."
The mention of him makes me falter but I push it out of the way and force a laugh.
"You should have done it. I'd like to see you break the rules for once."
"You just returned and you are already being a bad influence." A familiar scolding voice draws my gaze up to Carlotta, who approaches me with outstretched arms and unshed tears in her eyes. "Oh, bimba. Welcome home."
