This last, final truth.
I wet my lips, force myself to voice the words I kept hidden, even from Dom. The final truth of those hours and days after my daughter was taken from me.
The truth that remained voiceless, even through my time at the Asante compound. Through the horrific, invasive hours I spent with Reed and Salvatore as they investigated my body, assessing it, discussing it as I lay there, trapped and tied and holding onto that thought witheverythingI had.
Because there was one thing they did not check. One test that would have changed everything, if they had thought of it.
But they did not. And I held that thought, held it even as I woke up to fractured memories of a black canopy and bare skin.
My breathing starts to speed up.
Warm fingers, then, on my face, tracing my skin. Infinitely gentle. “Come back to me.”
I blink, clearing those thoughts away as Dante’s face replaces them. And I keep my eyes on his as I let those words free.
“My father… after I had Alessia. He had my tubes tied, Dante.”
A precaution, he had said.To prevent any future issues.
But we both knew it was another punishment.
There will be no siblings for Alessia. Not from my body, at least. None of them, these men that have given so much for me, none of them will ever see me that way, never see my body change and develop as it did in those months,before.
That choice has been stolen from me, from all of us.
There will be no more heirs from the Corvo line, if we win against Matteo.
And in the Cosa Nostra, where family iseverything... maybe that changes things.
Dante sucks in a harsh breath, his face paling. “Cat.”
I try to drop my eyes from his, but he grips my face, holding me in place as he examines my expression, his brows knotting. “Do you think I care about that? About any of it?”
“It matters,” I say numbly. “There will be no heirs, Dante.”
None, except for Alessia. And it only puts more of a target on her head.
He pulls me closer, and I let my head rest against his chest. He traces the flecks of blood that still speckle my skin, traces the space beneath my eyes, space that I know is dark with evidence of my own nightmares. Of these past few months without him.
“I hate that he did that to you,” he says finally. His voice is dark, threaded with anger. “I would kill Joseph for it, Cat, if he were here. For him to take that choice from you is unforgivable. But it changesnothingof how I feel about you,tentazione. And the others will feel the same. There are options we can explore, if and whenyouwant them. And if that day never comes, then itdoes not matter.”
My eyes squeeze closed, the relief soaking into my bones at the absolute honesty in his voice. “One less thing to worry about, at least.”
And he freezes, as I realize what foolish words I have let free about the time we spent apart. Both of us still, tension threading around us. And I listen as his breathing turns ragged beneath my cheek, as his heartbeat thunders.
Whatever he might have expected, I have justconfirmedit.
“Cat.”
Dante’s eyes are darker than I have ever seen them when I look up. His skin is bunched tight around those eyes, those eyes that are glimmering with something darker than I’ve ever seen them. His hands tighten on me, then loosen immediately. “Quel figlio di puttana.”
And his voicebreakson those words. His mouth opens—
“Don’t,” I force out, my voice thickening as my heart thumps heavily inside my chest. “Don’t ask me anymore. Not yet.Prego, Dante. Don’t make me lie to you when I’ve just promised not to. I’mhere. It doesn’t matter.”
There I go, already breaking my promise not to lie to him again. Because it does matter, and we both know it. But he doesn’t call me out.
He closes his eyes instead, pain in every crease of his face, and I do the same as he lowers his forehead, pressing it against mine. Our breathing mingles together.
