Nico’s mouth twisted. “Enzo was many things. Reckless wasn’t one of them. But he underestimated how closely Marcello was being monitored. And he didn’t know he was being monitored, just as closely.”
Ember swallowed. “By whom?”
“The blackmailer who’d spent centuries getting rich off Marcello’s secrets.” Nico looked worried about my wife, which was pissing me off. “He couldn’t risk Enzo exposing Marcello and ruining his lucrative arrangement. So, he did what males like that always do when someone threatens their power.”
“He killed my father,” Ember whispered, her voice hollow. “This blackmailer.”
Nico’s gaze met mine before he answered. “Yes.”
“I thought…” She traced an old stain on the table. “I was sure Marcello ordered the assassination. That Gabriel carried out the order. I was convinced my father died because of some ancient feud.”
“There is a feud, just not the one you know about,” I said, my voice hoarse. “He told me he was finally ready to goto the council. That with me back, even disgraced, with my testimony, he had enough to demand an investigation into Salvatore’s death. Into Marcello.”
Ember looked like she was going to be sick. “But he never made it.”
“No.” I shook my head. “He didn’t.”
I closed my eyes, wishing I didn’t have to break her heart and rip her entire world apart. I was exhausted, and not just physically. Bone-deep.
The sort of emptiness I thought I’d left behind me, buried in the sands of The Fossa.
“There’s a reason we tried to keep you out of this,” I explained, gripping the edge of the counter, “A reason I didn’t tell you everything that first night.”
“I don’t care about your excuses,” she snapped. “I want the truth. Who has been blackmailing Marcello?”
“Giovanni.”
For a second, Ember blinked, then her shoulders sagged, the light draining out of her eyes.
“No.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not…”
“Your uncle was the assassin,” Nico broke in, when I couldn’t get anything out. “Giovanni killed your father, who was about to expose him for the treacherous sociopath he is.”
I was glad Nico said it, given the death glare he got from Ember.
“You’re insane.” She crossed her arms over her chest, half laughing. “GiovannihatesMarcello. He’s been working against Marcello for years, pushing me to?—”
She stopped talking, eyes widening as the truth hit her.
“Pushing you to marry Gabriel? To get close to the family so you could strike us from the inside?” I smileddown at her sadly. “Yes, we knew what your uncle’s plan was the moment he proposed the arranged marriage.”
“You said there was proof,” she snapped. “Show it to me.”
I traded a look with Nico. “The proof disappeared the night your father was killed. Our theory is that Giovanni tortured Enzo, got him to reveal where the documents were, then killed him. They could be anywhere now.”
“Oh gods,” she breathed, her voice shaking. “I trusted him. My father trusted him.”
“Your father was about to prove everything,” I cut in quietly. “Five hundred years of Giovanni never taking the throne for himself—but always in the background, moving the Pentarchs around like his own, personal chess pieces.”
“Enzo got too close.” Nico touched her hand, and I ground my teeth together. “Giovanni couldn’t risk losing his leverage over Marcello or having the truth exposed. So, he did what he’s always done.”
“He chose his own survival over his own blood,” I finished.
“My uncle raised me. Giovanni’s the one who put a blade in my hand and told me I wasnobody’spawn.”
She rubbed her chest, round and round, breathing fast.
“He sat with me the night my father died,” she whispered. “He held my fucking hand. He swore on our family name he’d find out who did it. Now you tell me he’s the monster who ripped out my father’s heart?”
