“Not everything.”
“Do not insult me.”
His gaze snaps to mine. “She knew the girl had to leave. She knew Marino was arranging it. She didn’t know he’d use me. Not at first.”
I don’t believe him. Or maybe I don’t want to.
“She was there,” I say. “When Elizabeth was taken.”
“Yes. But she didn’t know it was me until moments before.”
For one long beat, I say nothing.
“You helped poison Elizabeth too?”
His head dips and it takes everything in my power not to kill him right there.
“How long?” I ask.
Cesaro frowns. “How long what?”
“How long were you playing both sides?”
His laugh is weak and broken. “Long enough.”
Oh no. That’s nowhere good enough for me. I lean forward and let some of what I’m feeling show.
“Try again.”
His eyes close briefly, then open. “Since Marino orchestrated the attack in Kansas City.”
Every muscle in me stills.
“Say that again,” I demand, though I heard just fine the first time.
His mouth curves in something that might once have been a smile. “He wanted Sienna out of the way. Knew she would never accept Fran as a stepmother. Didn’t count on failing, so we set up the shooting at the nightclub. It was supposed to be a two-for-one.”
He means Sienna and Elizabeth were both the targets that night. My sweet daughter’s face crosses my mind as the light left her eyes for the last time.
“You bastard.”
He looks at me, seeing he’s finally managed to wound me. And because he is dying, because there’s no point in saving anything anymore, he decides to twist the knife.
“Frannie didn’t want you,” he says softly. “She only did what her father told her because she was scared. She knew you were going to be her downfall.”
“Be very careful.”
He coughs again, blood spotting his teeth. “Why? You finallywant the truth, don’t you?” His head tips back against the chair. “Marino forced the marriage, but Fran was ready to run. She came to me the night before, begging me to go with her. We’d been sleeping together for months at that point.”
The room tilts for half a second as I do the math. If she was in love with him. That could mean…
He wets his lips. “I’m the father of Fran’s baby.”
I think of Francesca’s hand over her stomach and the strange distance in her face whenever anyone mentioned the future. I think of the way she looked at me all these months—dutiful, quiet, resigned. And suddenly every missing piece clicks into place with a violence that makes my vision sharpen.
I stand very slowly.
Cesaro watches me with the bright-eyed certainty of a man who knows he has finally hit bone.
