I'm frozen in place, my mind struggling to process what just happened.
Ignazio killed Matteo!
I’d love to assume he’s done it to help me, but then I meet his eyes and realize Ignazio hasn’t flinched at the sight of me bound and tied.
The last time I saw him, he left me to save his own skin. He was using me the same way Mom and Dad seemed to be, only concerned about one thing…
"Well done, Ignazio."
The familiar voice makes my knees buckle.
Mom walks through the door that leads to the kitchens, followed closely by Dad. They look exactly the same as the night they abandoned me at the warehouse, like they’ve once again been living life on the run in sleek, basic black clothes as nondescript as possible.
It seems they’ve spent the past few weeks on the go.
"Mom?" I blurt out. "Dad?"
"Hello, sweetheart,” Mom says, a saccharine smile on her face. “How has my beautiful girl been? I’m so glad you’re still in one piece.”
“You mean after you abandoned me at the warehouse?!”
“Sweetheart, we did what we had to do to survive… as we always have. What have we told you from the time you were a small girl?”
“You told me lies!” I snap. “You told me Dad was forced to work for Nero. That I had to be sold to the dance company!”
“That was all true, sweetheart,” Dad says. “Do you think we’ve wanted to live the way we have? That we wanted to give up our little girl to Nero? That we wanted to do the things we’ve done?”
“You mean like shoot the man you just killed in cold blood!”
Mom glances at Dad. “He was in the way. You might not understand, sweetheart. Everybody is in this for their own gain—that includes Matteo.”
“Business is business, Nevaeh,” Dad adds. “You understand that now, don't you?"
“What’s most important is that you have what we gave you, Nevaeh. So our family can ensure its survival and finally earn what we’re owed.”
I take a step back even as the crimson pool around Matteo’s dead body spreads. I’m staring at them like they’re two strangers wearing the faces belonging to my parents.
In reality, I’m seeing them for the first time.
“This was all about you making money,” I say. “Another con of yours. You were never being hunted by Nero like you said you were; you were out to get one over on him and the others, and you tried to use me to do it. That’s why you gave me the key.”
“Hand it over, Nevaeh,” Ignazio says impatiently. “We know you still have it. Tell me Matteo made you bring it with you.”
I’m still processing the fact that my parents have been lying to me for so many years.
I was told I had to be sold to the dance company as a means for survival. That Dad was forced into servitude to Nero and the Vorones.
We all were.
But I hadn’t understood who my parents really were behind the lies and hidden truths—they were schemers looking for some big payday.
It was always about the key, about the code that could unlock whatever fortune from Nero and Zinc Co they'd been chasing. I was just a tool to them, a means to an end.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Ignazio wipes Matteo's blood from his gun with a handkerchief. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, bella ballerina. We know Caelian's been keeping you comfortable, but comfort can disappear very quickly."
“Wait a second,” Dad interjects. “That’s my daughter you’re speaking to, Ignazio. You’re not about to threaten her. Nevaeh understands what she has to do to protect our family.”
