As if sweetness could mask the evil he’d done.
I stood at Don Marcello’s right, expression impassive, head held high.
The dutiful son.
The loyal heir.
The male who would carry the family fortunes forward once my father was gone.
Almost on cue, Marcello drew a white handkerchief from his pocket and coughed, a rasping death rattle every vampire in the vicinity dutifully ignored. When he slid the fabric away, it was spotted with red. The faint stench of rot hung in the air.
To everyone present, my brother—and his wife—diedinstantly in that explosion, their bodies burned beyond recognition. Giovanni’s illusion was complete.
Only Nico, Severin, and I knew the truth.
Even though this entire travesty was for show, my heart lurched when eight soldiers lifted Dante’s casket—with some charred, unknown corpse inside—from the boat and began the somber trek to the family plot, up the stone steps, past the main house, through the small garden my mother had once loved.
Black velvet draped every railing, every balustrade, and white lilies and night-blooming jasmine banked the steps in thick, suffocating tiers. My aunt’s doing, a gaudy display of ostentatiousness my brother would have despised.
My father loved everything about tonight.
Being the center of attention. The family’s private island—our sanctuary—reshaped into a stage. The procession route cleared, gravel raked into neat, obedient lines.
Vampires from every Pentarch family lined the path, our soldiers stacked behind them in formal black and silver uniforms, swords held vertical against their chests, faces appropriately blank.
Emilia DiSangue was the only one wearing dark red, not black, a crimson ruby sitting in the hollow of her throat like a splash of fresh blood, flanked by her dour sons in their usual onyx frocks.
Her gaze found mine in the crowd, and her lips pursed.
A warning? In sympathy? With Emilia, one never knew.
Behind her stood Rocco Demente, broad-shouldered in a high-collared black coat with a silver chain crossing his barrel chest, eyes gleaming with calculation as he gave me a slow nod of greeting. He’d blackmailed my brother into doing his dirty work, and now… now he would be looking for a more malleable target to extort.
“Watch out for that one,” Marcello cautioned, as if he read my mind. “He still has an axe to grind with that arms dealer.”
“Could be an opportunity,” I mused, my tone unbothered. “With Dante gone, we could use the situation to bring Rocco more firmly under our control. Leverage for the future.” My father gave me a surprised glance, his withered lips curling up in approval.
Severin Draconi blended into the crowd, Nico at his side, expression placid, except for the twin flames burning in his eyes. He hated this display as much as me, but it was necessary that we played our parts, and tonight, we were close to our enemies.
Close enough to overhear every tainted whisper.
At last, my eyes fell on Giovanni DiRavello.
I clenched my hands, and despite my efforts, my heart rate picked up, my sire shooting me a warning look.
In his brown robe, he blessed both of us with a beatific smile, the epitome of a humble male here to show respect, when he was nothing but a vulture waiting to pick our bones clean.
The ceremony was brief.
Vincenzo DiSangue muttered a few forgettable words that would have made my brother laugh, then the onyx casket was lifted straight onto the pyre, the tinder beneath was lit, and almost five hundred vampires impassively watched my father’s sins disappear in a plume of smoke and ash.
Once the flames burned down to nothing, Giovanni was the first to glide up to my father, the others following, some long-lost second cousin offering me her hand to kiss as she started droning on about how beautiful the ceremony was.
I tuned her out, eavesdropping on my father and Giovanni.
“Don Marcello.” Giovanni’s smile was serpentine, his gaze fixed on the blood marking the corner of my father’s mouth. “My condolences on your terrible loss.”
“My condolences on yours, as well,” my father replied, with all the graciousness of a serpent. “Such a terrible tragedy that explosion. Such losses for both our bloodlines.” Giovanni’s gaze flicked to me. The moment his dark eyes landed on my face, I slammed my mental gates down, locked my thoughts up tight.
