Deciding to just see where the night took me, I opened Bianca’s door and went inside to find her at the window seat again, staring out at the dark night.
“You should be sleeping,” I said softly as the door clicked closed behind me.
“Hello, Pot,” she muttered, not bothering to look at me.
“Kettle,” I replied, going to her and following her gaze. She’d been here for a long time. She’d been alone for most of it, too, except for my random visits or Alessandro coming to see her.
Drake tried, but she always kicked him out. Drake was a good guy. Strong. Intelligent. He had the ability to really run things if he’d focus on which pot he wanted to stick his hands in. I was considering forcing the pair together since I knew he loved her, and she was pissed at him.
Maybe things could work out for them. That would free Alessandro from it all so he could take Rosalie away.
“Decided to come torture me some more?” she muttered.
“No,” I said. “I only wanted to talk.”
She scoffed. “You’re drunk.”
“I am, but I still want to talk.”
“Why? Friends all leave you?”
“You’re being a brat,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair.
She finally looked at me, her blue eyes piercing. “You’re being a dick.”
“How? I have not done one thing to you?—”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re ninety-nine percent of all my problems in this world currently.”
I was quiet as her words tumbled through my head.
I sighed. “Let’s talk. I-I want to tell you some things. If we don’t do it now, I may sober up and not be in this position again. So please.” I held my hand out to her.
She stared down at it for a moment before letting me help her to her feet and lead her to the couch in her sitting area. I took the chair next to her after draping a soft throw blanket over her. She frowned at the gesture but didn’t question it further.
“I know you think I’m a monster,” I started. “I wasn’t always such.”
She grunted but didn’t say anything, so I continued.
“I had an arranged marriage, as you know. You know it was a duty, not love, and that I lost the love of my life because of it.”
She nodded, still wordless.
“You know that Dominic was a product of rape. My father, Carmine, raped my wife to create him. I was forced into raising him as my own. It broke me. Then Del was found and murdered. My daughter Giana was murdered with her. I spent years trying to find my family. Even though I knew it was wrong of me to look because it endangered them, I did it anyway. And my Del was killed with our daughter because of it.” I breathed out. “I have not healed properly, if at all. I was—am—angry and trying to navigate through my world the best I can. As you can see, I am not doing a very good job at it.”
I paused and licked my lips.
“My father is a madman. My mother is worse. Carmine and Francesca are a different kind of monster when compared to me. They’re… like Everett Church.”
She blinked at the information. “Like… they torture people and-and eat them?”
“They do all of those things and more. In fact, one of the reasons why my father hates me so much is that I did not comply and bring Everett into the empire I was building. I left him on the outside and vowed to kill him if I ever got him. I meant that then, and I mean it now. Monsters like him and my parents do not deserve to live.”
She visibly swallowed. “Does Dominic know?”
“He is aware they are bad people. Perhaps he does not know the extent of it. I assume he doesn’t.”
“Then you should tell him,” she said. “He would do something about it.”
