Sabrina’s eyes lock with mine, hatred burning in their depths. “You killed my dad,” she spits, each word precise and venomous.
I nod slowly, having expected this answer after days of reflection on the yacht. It’s what she said in those texts to Andrea. It’s the only thing that makes sense of her hatred.
“We don’t have the same dad, do we?” I ask, the question falling from my lips with surprising steadiness.
Sabrina’s eyes widen briefly—a flicker of shock that she quickly masks. But it’s enough to confirm what I’ve begun to suspect since reading those messages.
“Finally figured it out, did you?” she snarls. “Took you long enough.”
My heart pounds against my ribs so hard I’m sure they can both hear it. The room seems to tilt slightly, and I struggle to keep my balance.
“Tell me,” I demand, my voice stronger than I feel. “Tell me everything.”
Something dark and satisfied flashes across Sabrina’s face. She wants to hurt me. Has always wanted to hurt me. And now she has the perfect weapon.
“Mom was a whore,” she says, the words exploding from her like bullets. “She cheated on Dad with some random guy passing through town. Got herself knocked up. With you.” She practically spits the last word. “No one knew for years. Dad raised you as his own. Loved you like his own.”
Each word lands like a physical blow, but I force myself to remain standing, to keep my expression neutral even as my world crumbles around me.
“And then what?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Then he found out.” Sabrina’s lips curve into a cruel smile. “Found some old letters Mom had kept. Realized his precious little Alina wasn’t his at all.”
The room spins faster. Johnny wasn’t my father. The man whose face I can barely remember, whose photos I’ve treasured, whose death I’ve mourned—he wasn’t my blood.
“That’s why he killed himself,” Sabrina continues, twisting the knife. “Finding out you weren’t his destroyed him. He couldn’t live with the lie. With Mom’s betrayal. With you.”
I stagger backward as the revelation hits me, even though I’d already half-suspected it from her texts with Andrea. My legs threaten to give way, but I lock my knees, refusing to collapse in front of her.
“I didn’t know,” I whisper, the words tearing from my throat. “I never knew.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Sabrina scoffs. “Mom made sure of that. Protected her perfect little mistake until the end.” Her face contorts with rage. “No one told me either. I overheard Mom tell one of her friends.”
The pieces slot together with terrible clarity. The bakery. The inheritance. All this time, I thought Sabrina resented me for not being like her. For… being an embarrassment. But it was deeper than that.
The weight of this truth threatens to crush me. My entire life has been built on a foundation of secrets and lies. And my sister—my half-sister—hates me enough to wish me dead for it.
It was about blood and belonging and a secret that destroyed our family long before I ever knew it existed.
“Dad loved me,” I say softly, the words more for myself than for her. “Whatever else is true, he loved me.”
“He loved a lie,” Sabrina snaps. “And it killed him. You killed him. Do you hear me, Alina? You took my dad from me. I fuckingwish Mom had swallowed you instead. You’ve ruined everything. Everything, you cunt. You even had Maxwell killed.”
I look at Raffaele, who nods to confirm it. “He was trying to protect Sabrina,” he states. “Matteo shot him.”
“See!” Sabrina screeches. “I’ve lost everything because of you.”
Something snaps inside me—a dam breaking, a lock shattering, a final thread of restraint severing clean through. The rage that floods my system isn’t cold or calculating; it’s white-hot and primal, surging up from some deep place I didn’t know existed.
My vision narrows to a pinpoint, centered entirely on Sabrina’s smug, hateful face. Before I can think, before I can remember my injuries or my usual careful control, I’m moving.
My good hand shoots out, fingers tangling in Sabrina’s hair, wrenching her head back with a force that surprises even me. She cries out—a sharp, pained sound that brings me no satisfaction but doesn’t stop me either.
“I didn’t know!” The words tear from my throat, echoing off the concrete walls of this sterile room. “You’re punishing me for something I had no part in.”
Sabrina tries to jerk away, but my grip only tightens, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes widen with shock—she’s never seen this side of me. I’ve never seen this side of me.
“You could have told me,” I continue, my voice rising with each word. “You could have sat me down and explained. You could have hated me to my face. But instead, you’ve ridiculed and bullied me most of my life. I loved you, Sabrina. And I never knew why my brilliant and beautiful big sister hated me. Imagine my surprise to learn she also plotted to have me killed. And I never even knew why.” By the end of my tirade, I’m panting.
