“Marco and Roman have convinced La Corona that it’s all part of a conspiracy to bring La Corona down.”
Dom never shared details of business, but I’d figured out all these concerns from discussions with Isabella and Gabriella.
“What if it started earlier? What if it started with us?”
My brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“Your father’s arrest and my being blamed for it certainly caused a rift between our families.”
“That was so long ago. And…” I’m about to point out that it’s likely my uncle was behind my father’s downfall.
My uncle who is dead now and couldn’t be behind Don Ferraza’s wife’s death, which is what seems to have jumpstarted the problems La Corona has had over the last few years.
“Whoever it is, they’re playing a long game, Elena. And now that I’m back, I’m sure they’ll see an opportunity to drive that wedge between the Monti and Vitale families since I’m still accused of betraying your father.”
The curry turns bitter in my mouth. "And you think digging into all this is going to help? It could make things worse."
"Or it could finally end whatever game someone's playing with our families." His hand inches toward mine on the table. "With us."
I pull back, but not before feeling the warmth of his skin. "There is no us."
His eyes hold mine. "Isn't there?"
“Luca—”
“I might have believed that if not for the kiss the other day.”
I look away, unable to hold his gaze. "We're not having this conversation."
"Which one? The one about us or the one about your father?"
"Either." I push my plate away, appetite gone. "Both."
Luca’s eyes narrow, studying me in a way that makes me want to squirm. “You’re okay with my being a target for some of the men in the Vitale family? For my being blamed for betraying a man I deeply respected?”
Guilt fills to nearly overflowing.
“Elena, I need to understand what happened. Not just for me, but for all of us."
"What good will it do? My father is dead. Your reputation with La Corona is being restored. Let the past stay buried."
"Like you buried what we had?" His voice is soft but cuts straight through me.
I stand abruptly, carrying dishes to the sink. "That's not fair."
"None of this is fair." He follows, leaning against the counter beside me. "Did you know the FBI agent who handled your father's case died in an accident shortly after the trial?"
My hands still under the running water. "What?"
“People die in accidents, but it’s still sus. And the informant isn’t named in the official report. No mention of me except as someone who was meeting with your father. Someone who would have been arrested with your father, probably killed in prison too."
I grip the edge of the counter, unable to imagine any of this.
“Elena, someone wanted your father gone and me out of the picture. And it could be connected to what's happening now."
Fear rises in my throat. "Stop. Please. You have no idea what you're stirring up."
"Then tell me."
