“What’s the plan?” he asks as it formulates in my brain.
“Log into Rina’s system, and pull up the dossier on Cruz,” I instruct as I press call on my cell and put it on speaker.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Calling in reinforcements.”
He quirks a brow as Natalia Messina answers my call. “It’s Massimo. I need to speak with you urgently. It’s a matter of life or death. How soon can you get to the city?”
ChapterForty-Eight
Catarina
“Is that everything?” Ben asks after I have finished recanting my sordid tale. I gave them the CliffsNotes version, but I left little out. They know most everything, including my real identity.
My eyes lock on Gabriele’s dazed gaze as he stares at me, utterly shell-shocked. “It is,” I lie because I purposely kept mention of Cruz and Anais out of it.
I want to hang that cocksucker Cruz out to dry. Now I have the facts, I know he set this up. He must have been working with Anton. Anton knew Cruz was my brother-in-law, so I’m guessing he was the one to make contact. Cruz would have lapped it up. An opportunity to get ahead of the game. A chance to eliminate me and Massimo.
I could bury him. Tell them the part he played and that he’s far from innocent, but then it’ll all come out. Caleb has protected Anais, not revealing her as his source. If I involve Cruz, he will point the finger at my sister too. He will not go down alone.
I can’t let anyone else I love die because of me.
Cruz gets a reprieve because it’s the only way I can protect my sister—even if she is the one who betrayed me. She would know Caleb would go straight to his uncle and his stepfather. That hurts. A lot. But I don’t blame her. She’s still grieving and the knowledge I killed her father would have sent her over the edge. I have always known where her loyalty lies.
“Did Massimo know?” Don DiPetro asks, looking slightly less hostile though only a bit.
“No.” I shake my head and stare him straight in the eye, hoping he buys it. If he has photos of my husband at the warehouse, he will already know I’m lying, but I have to try. I will take the fall for this. Not Massimo. There’s no point in both of us dying. I love him enough to protect him from that fate. Pain pierces me in the chest as all thoughts of my happy future evaporate in an instant.
“Of course, she’d say that,” Maltese says, disgust lacing his tone.
“She came to New York to kill him,” Accardi says. “Why would you think Don Greco knows anything about this?”
“Don’t act the fool because you have sympathy for her,” Maltese retorts. “Massimo is brainwashed and pussy-whipped. It’s fucking obvious he helped to cover her tracks.”
“Last I checked, Massimo doesn’t do anything without Fiero,” Don DiPietro says. “Implicate Massimo. You implicate Fiero.”
“Don’t you dare suggest my son had anything to do with this.” Maltese slams his hand down on the desk.
“Enough.” Ben’s thunderous voice projects around the room, silencing everyone.
I have no problem holding on to my composure as I turn to look at the president. Revealing the truth has been incredibly freeing. There is nothing left but to pay the price for my actions. I always knew this day could come. I understood the risks. “I will accept responsibility for my actions and suffer the consequences,” I tell Ben. “But this is on me and me alone. Massimo is not involved.”
“We need to discuss this,” Accardi says. “This isn’t black-or-white.”
“There is nothing to discuss,” Maltese says. “She’s a traitor. She planned to kill our president!”
“There were mitigating circumstances,” Gabriele says, finally finding his voice. He has been enormously troubled since I dropped the bomb. “Donna Greco has apologized and explained how she changed her plans.”
“If she’s telling the truth,” Maltese scoffs.
“She is,” Gabe whispers. He stares at me with tears in his eyes. “It was you in the cage. I see it now in your face if I imagine you with blonde hair instead of brown.”
“I dye it,” I calmly explain.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so incredibly sorry.” He turns his head to Ben. “She suffered unimaginable cruelty, and she was only thirteen years old. I am begging you for leniency, Don Mazzone.”
“He’s too biased,” Maltese snaps. “And we only have his word for it that she is who he says she is. For all we know, she concocted this story to earn the sympathy vote.”
