Then again, that’s what I’d thought about Alexander a few days before.
Before beginning to fall in love with him.
Impossible.
Disturbing.
Accurate.
I pressed my fingers against my lips to keep from laughing as I stared at the DNA test results on the coffee table. My birth certificate meant nothing. Yet the man I’d known as my father had been listed. Had he known about my mother’s obvious affair? Or had something more sinister occurred? Maybe that’s why after all the years he’d finally snapped.
No. No. No.
I refused to believe my mother would dare do something so terrible. She adored my father, which was why his betrayal had nearly destroyed her. God, I was sick inside, a knot so huge I could barely breathe. No amount of alcohol would bring any peace, nor would it clear the haze that kept me so numb inside.
My life had been turned upside down by true monsters. How odd that Alexander seemed like one of the good guys after all.
Alexander sighed and checked his watch. He was waiting for someone to arrive.
“The bastard said he was coming to take me home.”
“Who?” Alexander growled as he turned toward me.
“The man in the club that you… saved me from. That’s what he said. What the hell does it mean?”
He narrowed his eyes, the intensity in them no longer terrifying. “Maybe your father decided being with me wasn’t in your best interest.”
“Why? Why would he do that? He had to know how you’d react.”
“You mean I’d hunt you down?”
Groaning, I nodded.
His sigh was as heavy as any I’d heard. “I went to visit Russo in the hospital the night before last hoping for answers.”
“Did you talk about me?”
“At that point, I had no idea you were anyone but who you said you were. My father had a meeting with him on the day he died. According to Russo, they’d agreed to an alliance.”
“Between mafia organizations.”
He lifted his head, nodding. “Not unheard of except Russo had tried an alliance years ago. A marriage between my sister and one of his sons. My father said no. After that, your biological father went after mine, almost managing through your father’s role as a prosecutor to convict him of a murder committed by my uncle. Talk about dysfunctional families.”
While he was emotionless on the outside, I sensed the vast array of them swimming in his mind. I had no idea what to think any longer. The insanity of what he was telling me shouldn’t make any sense.
Yet it did.
“You think the man I’ve always known as my father did so on purpose. Why? Wouldn’t he go after Vitelli Russo if possible given my mother’s connection to the man?”
“That’s a good question and one I will discover as I will about everything else.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“Yes, I do. In truth, more than certain people who’ve been in my life.” He laughed bitterly and took another swig of his drink.
He had every right to be angry.
So did I.
