Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
When she holds out her hand, Lucia clutches her backpack tighter, matching my stern clutch of the thread I’m barely clasping. “I’m not handing over a cent until I see Gabriele.”
This wasn’t the plan we devised in the lemon groves before we parted ways to ensure the authenticity of our ploy, but it’s clear this woman is related to Lucia in some way, so a change-up is understandable.
My jaw twitches when the woman’s voice drips with venom. “You’re in no position to negotiate. If it weren’t for me, your child would have been dumped in a back alley in New York City, where I should have left you when you shamed our family name by whoring yourself out on your hen’s night.”
“My family name,” Lucia fights back, her words breaking through the shock raining down on me. “My father never gave me his last name.”
“Why would he! Your mother was nothing but his whore!”
While they argue, I lean toward Nico. My skyrocketing blood pressure deafens me when I spot the mask Matteo and Nico use when they want to hide their identities from the women they chase through the lemon groves surrounding our home.
Everything I thought I knew had turned on its head, but words still make it through the carnage. “Find something. Anything. Birth records. Hospital logs. A certificate. Anything that can tell me when Gabriele was born.”
Nico raises a brow, but he remains quiet. The only noise besides the unsafe climb of my heart rate is his fingers furiously flying over the keyboard.
Seconds later, my inquiries crash into a brick wall. “There’s nothing. No birth certificate. No hospital record. No official documentation of his birth at all.”
My stomach drops into the same abyss my understanding slipped into.
“But…” Nico’s fingers freeze as his brows pull together. “Something is off with the payment logs.”
“The payments Lucia made to Edoardo?” I’m shocked I can talk. Disbelief is clutching my throat, asphyxiating me. Perhaps I don’t handle stress as badly as I thought.
Nico nods. “They’re regular transfers. Every month without fail since their agreement started. But each April, Lucia makes an additional payment.”
“Why April?” Elio asks, invested.
Nico lifts his gaze to me, eyes dilated. “I don’t know. But it’s the same day as Camille’s birthday.”
The world tilts on its axis as the truth collides into me.
As my wide gaze rockets back to the monitor, seeking more evidence, the woman steps out of the shadows enough to reveal her face.
Recognition steals my breath, but before I can process it or order Giovanni and Matteo to move, a gunshot ricochets out of the speakers, and Lucia stumbles forward, clutching her chest.
Chapter 40
Lucia
Ican’t breathe. Not because I’m dying, but for a split second, I’m convinced the worst is still to come.
As my shaky hands claw at the bulletproof vest Dante forced me to wear, I try to make sense of what happened.
I was shot. Actually shot.
The vest caught the bullet, thank god, but the impact site feels like someone swung a sledgehammer into my ribs. The pain is so sudden and blinding that my brain blanks. I double over as everything I thought I knew turns on its end.
I didn’t anticipate this much pain today.
The hurt isn’t from being shot. It’s from realizing family can still hurt you this deeply, even when you are an adult.
Carmela raised me from age four. She wasn’t perfect, often favoring her biological daughter over me, but she was the only stability I had when my mother’s addiction took her away from me. My mother was an orphan, and my father refused to acknowledge my existence since it would call out his infidelities, so I was destined for foster care until Carmela tossed me a lifeline.
I spent my entire childhood attempting to pay back my apparent debt. My efforts were pointless. Nothing I ever did was good enough for Carmela. She hated me on sight, and her hate grew when I gave away the virginity she’d auctioned off mere weeks before my nuptials to the highest bidder.
Thank god she’s a terrible shot. If she believed she could land a clean kill with one bullet, she would’ve aimed for my head.
My thoughts return to the present when I sense I am being watched. I can’t see Dante, but I feel his eyes moving over every inch of my body, checking for injuries.
“I’m okay,” I breathe out slowly, my voice on the verge of a sob.
I’m physically okay, but mentally, I’m a wreck.
This morning’s showdown didn’t go as planned. I didn’t even get to see my son before Carmela proved greed will always triumph over love for her.
“The vest caught the bullet.”
I assume I’m imagining Dante’s relieved sigh until the voice from my dreams trickles into my ears. “If you could pick between the sun lighting up your life or the moon, which would you choose?”