Page 26 of Brutal Betrayal


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Anna swore she searched for me when she found out she was pregnant, that she scoured New York streets for months on end, so how could I blame her for keeping my daughter from me?

Our reunion didn’t even last a month.

Trying to make Anna happy was the equivalent of pulling a hen’s teeth. It was painful, awkward, and ultimately pointless. We hadnothingin common except the child we had created.

The woman I’d spent years searching for was a stranger, and the magic of that one night was just that—one night of tricks.

Sometimes, I wonder if that’s how it’s supposed to be. Not every story needs a happy ending. Some nights are meant to become memories that will never touch the harsh light of day.

I still wouldn’t change a thing, though. That night gave me Camille, and I’d walk through fire again if it meant she’d still be here.

“I’m not walking the same route this time,” I say quietly.

“Are you sure?” Matteo asks, backing up the silent accusations beaming from Nico. “Because you’ve got that look again.”

“What look?”

“The one where you’d burn down the city to get to her.”

I meet his eyes, my lips pursed topfft, but the noise that comes out sounds nothing close to a dismissal. “If that’s what it takes, that’s what it takes.”

Nico whistles again, softer this time. “You’re so fucking gone.”

I don’t respond. There’s no need for me to. The truth is evident on my face.

Something about Lucia has dug in deep and refuses to let go. And tonight her routine, taste, and smell made it worse.

I’ve never been so immediately obsessed.

Well… except that one time, but I’m done talking about that.

“Dad always said once Giovanni fell off the single wagon, you’d be next.” Matteo moves into the cramped kitchenette, shuddering as he recalls how much he mimics Giovanni’s and my actions. “Before you fall balls over dick for this girl, can you scratch my name off the list? I ain’t built for monogamy, and I don’t see many women willing to share all I’ve got to offer.”

While shooting Matteo a glare that announces he thinks I’m full of it, Nico moves around the studio apartment, opening drawers, checking under the mattress, and scanning for anything Lucia might have left behind.

Matteo and I do the same, although he doesn’t look as ridiculous as I do since he isn’t conducting his search in trousers too short to be taken seriously.

In a way, I’m grateful Lucia isn’t here. How the fuck can a grown man explain wearing three-quarter pants?

We collect what little evidence exists—a receipt from a local diner and a half-burned candle with the same faint lemon scent that surrounds my family compound. It’s limited, but it’s better than nothing.Then we leave.

The cool night air bites at my skin as we walk to the car. During thecommute home, Matteo offers a healthy stream of commentary, mostly about the length of my pants, and Nico keeps threatening to throw him out of the moving vehicle if he doesn’t come up with some new content.

I tune them out.

My mind drifts back to that apartment and the stabbing pain in my chest when I picture Lucia living there. As my thoughts tangle in a knotted mess, I rake my fingers through my hair, tugging at the roots, hopeful that a brutal pull might yank my frustration out along with several strands of hair.

It doesn’t.

It never does.

By the time we reach the Caruso family compound, the sky is lightening at the edges. Dawn is creeping in. A new day. A new hunt. I just have a different target this time.

I head straight to Camille’s room. She’s curled up in her bed, her hair forming a dark halo around her tiny face as she clutches a stuffed squirrel. I stand at the foot of her bed for a moment, watching her breathe, and the knot in my stomach loosens.

The results will be different this time around because failure isn’t an option. Not finding Lucia will break Camille’s heart. That isn’t something I’lleversettle for. Even if Lucia wants nothing to do with me, I’ll still push for her to be involved in Camille’s life.

I move closer when Camille stirs before she blinks sleepily at me. Her eyes—my eyes—search my face for the answer to the question she isn’t brave enough to ask just yet.