“Like what?” I fought back.
“Like a woman who found out her monster was actually a monster.”
I looked away. The city glittered beyond the windows, cold and endless. Somewhere out there, Leo was probably discovering I was gone. Somewhere, Sergio was realizing I had used him. Somewhere, men were being ordered into cars with guns beneath their jackets.
And part of me hated myself because I wanted to feel Leo coming. I wanted the air to change. I wanted that terrifying certainty that he would tear through anything between us. I pressed the heel of my hand against my chest.
“You told me my father was dying,” I said. “You told me Leo poisoned him.”
“Because he did.”
My breath caught. Angelo’s face had gone still. Not playful now. Not charming. Truth looked ugly on him.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Because Leo does what Leo always does. He poisons problems.” Angelo’s mouth tightened. “Your father became a problem.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because Lorenzo Ventura is an idiot who thought he could threaten a Moretti and survive it.” Angelo shrugged. “Big mistake.”
My pulse drummed painfully. “Threaten him how?”
Angelo’s gaze narrowed slightly, as if he hadn’t meant to give me that much. Then he smiled again. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” I asked, confused.
“Oh, that’s delicious.”
“Angelo.” My tone was pleading now, and I hated it.
He lifted his hands. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not the husband who keeps you locked in a tower.”
“No,” I said quietly. “You’re the man who wanted me to leave it.”
“And you did,” he reminded me.
“Why, Angelo?” I insisted.
His smile faded.A little crack in the performance. He stood and walked toward the windows, slipping one hand into his pocket. “Because Leo has had everything handed to him since birth. Name. Power. Fear. The whole city bending at his feet.”
“That has nothing to do with me,” I reminded him.
“It has everything to do with you.”
I stood slowly. “I want to leave.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “You just got here.”
“I made a mistake,” I whispered.
“Yes,” he said softly. “You did. But not the one you think.”
Fear crept up the back of my neck. The suite door opened behind me. I spun so fast pain shot through my ankle. An older man stepped inside.
For one horrible second, I didn’t understand what I was seeing. My mind refused to put the pieces together. The broad, heavy body wrapped in an expensive suit. The thinning silver hair slicked back from a sweating forehead. The thick fingers, jeweled with rings. The mouth curled into something that wanted to be a smile and became a leer instead. Then I knew.
Edoardo Moretti. Leo’s uncle. The man Angelo had mentioned at the wedding. The man my father would have handed me to ifLeo had not claimed me first. My stomach turned so violently I almost gagged.
