Una and Antonio stiffen, eyes pinned to the knife in Lily’s shaking grip.
Real, naked fear flashes across their faces as their eyes dart to each other, the carefully constructed masks slipping just enough to expose what’s underneath.
And that’s when it hits me.
Not all at once but piece by piece. The way they’re both looking at Isabella. The way Nico went still the moment Lily grabbed Isabella. The way panic—not anger—tightened Antonio’s jaw.
Then I really look at her.
Hair the same dark shade as Nico’s, so dark it almost shines blue under the lights. The same brown eyes.
The tilt of her nose. The faint dusting of freckles across her cheeks. Subtle things I’ve never questioned before because I wasn’t looking for them. Because some truths are only visible once it’s already too late.
My stomach drops so hard it feels like it might tear straight through me.
Isabella isn’t just involved.
She’stheirs.
My half-sister stands frozen a few feet away in the doorway, a blade hovering dangerously close to her throat in Lily’s shaking grip.
Aidan has her other half-brother pinned in a chokehold less than five feet away, muscles locked, ready to snap his neck without hesitation.
And behind me standsourmother.
I glance at Da—at the impassive set of his face, the lack of surprise in his eyes—and I realise he expected this. Heexpectedher to go this far.
Because of course he did.
This is who she’s always been in his eyes.
The woman who cheated on him and then tried to paint him as the cheater. Who used every interaction with me as a way to dig for information that was never hers to have.
And with a sick, sinking clarity, her motives finally snap into focus.
This is exactly who she’s always been—a traitor.
And judging by the fact that Isabella is the same age as Lily, this betrayal isn’t new.
It’s been at least twenty-one years in the making.
Christ, this shit just got messier.
Una lashes out first. “Isabella, for God’s sake—do you ever listen?”
Antonio steps in fast, too fast for a man who barely blinks when his men get shot. His hand lands heavily on Una’s shoulder as he holds her back.
“You were supposed to keep them quiet,” he says to Isabella, voice low and shaking. Then he looks at Nico with fury in his eyes, “andyouwere supposed to keep her safe.”
Them.
The word explodes in the room like a bomb, and everyone freezes at the implications. Jonathan steps forward, gun raised, his voice lethal. “Them? How many innocent girls are here, you sick bastard?”
Antonio swallows, his gaze flicking toward Una as if begging her to answer. She doesn’t, she’s too busy glaring daggers at Lily.
“Twelve, including me and Lily.”
The voice is soft, trembling and we all turn as the redhead steps out from the wall, hands shaking as she visibly forces herself to meet Jonathan’s gaze.
