Time suspends as Helena’s accusation hits me like a slap to the face—sharp and stinging—leaving a permanent mark on my skin. I want to laugh it off. Believe that what she said is nothing but a lie. Francesco Amato isnotmy father. There’s no way that’s remotely possible. Mama would never…
“What did you do to my mother?” I shout.
Something ugly and vicious slithers its way into my soul when I see a flicker of truth lurking behind Francesco’s enraged countenance, quickly followed by disgust and hatred when he turns and looks at me.
No.
It can’t be true.
It can’t.
The room violently spins once, and my stomach twists with nausea as the realization sickens me and burns me with shame.
Backing up, I’m halted in my tracks when I collide with the desk. My hand tightens its grip around the letter opener, my nails gouging into my palms with enough force to break the skin.
If it’s true, then…
My gaze falls on Tristan.
My brother. Aleksei and I have a brother. And a sister. Dierdre.
Tristan won’t look at me. He remains frozen on his knees like a trained dog put to heel by his master. I search his profile for any resemblance, any similarities or phenotype passed downfrom a father to his sons that we would share, then tear my gaze away when I see the small brown mole on the helix of his left ear. Aleksei and I have one. So does Francesco.
In that instant, my entire world unravels, splintering into jagged pieces of glass that slice me open as they fall to the ground and scatter at my feet. There was always a part of me that knew something was wrong. Like I didn’t belong in the world I was born into. But if I had to choose between the lesser of two evils for fathers, I would choose Nikolai Stepanoff over Francesco Amato any day of the week.
Francesco is cruel and sadistic. The only things he covets are himself, power, and money. He gets off on causing pain. He’s a sociopath of the worst kind dressed in a ten-thousand-dollar tailor-made suit. I want to tear every part of his DNA from my veins. I detest this man as much as I despise his son.
I’m compelled to ask, needing to hear him confirm it as my mind tries to deny it. “You’remy father?” I rasp, almost choking on it.
Francesco throws back his head and laughs. The sound is ugly and hollow, like fingernails down a chalkboard. “You and that other bastard mongrel are nothing more than the unwanted result of a bad fuck with the whore you call your mother.Youare nothing to me.” Apparently no longer worth his concern or his ire, he snaps his fingers at Tristan. “Come. I’ll deal with you at home.”
With his head lowered, Tristan slowly gets to his feet and ambles behind his father…our father…as they walk out of the study.
My mind reels, my thoughts reduced to a jumbled disarray ofwhat the fuck.
Why didn’t Mama tell us? Does Father know? Is that why he’s so hard on us? Never once showing us an ounce of love or kindness?
He’s not your real father. The devil is.
Lightning flashes somewhere in the distance, the rolling boom of thunder hitting the window seconds later. The calm before the storm.
Blood seeps through the gaps between my fingers and trickles down the antique gold blade, dripping scarlet circles on the dark wood floor, as thoughts of revenge sow their roots into my soul, and hatred mainlines its poison into my veins. Helena Amato just destroyed my entire world with a slip of her drunken tongue, and Francesco made sure to bury the knife deep into my heart with his cruel rejection.
Aleksei and I are the bastard sons of a psychopath, who wishes we were never born.
With one secret revelation, Helena and Francesco just took everything from me. My existence. My worth. My reality. My future.
I plan to return the favor. One day, I will take everything from them.
Three
The Present
Even though he’s dead,my hatred for Francesco Amato burns brighter than every sun in the universe. All the damage he caused. All the pain and suffering. I just hope he’s experiencing the same a thousand times over in hell. I’m glad we’re the ones who sent him there.
Aleksander doesn’t talk much about that time in his childhood, and the fact that he’s sharing that part of himself with me now only makes me love him more.
“Just so you know, I was going to say yes.”
