Page 110 of The Hidden Heir

“Don’t think for a second that I ever forgave you for what you did to her,” I reply.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, but I did understand. It’s one of the reasons why I never wanted to have anything to do with you or this wretched family,” I say.

Caroline groans in frustration. “This isn’t therapy hour. Spare me all the bitching and moaning, Valentina. We get it. Papa didn’t give you all the love you thought you deserved. Get over it.”

Luca chuckles dryly. “It’s common knowledge all over Chicago that he orchestrated Valentina’s mother’s death.”

“You should take it down a notch,” Caroline replies. “I’m calling the shots here.”

Luca gives me a look, noticing the redness on my cheek and my bloodied lip. His gaze darkens, hatred burning in his eyes as he looks at my stepsister.

“Call the shots then,” he says. “Let’s hear it. What do you want, Caroline?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me how you both made it here in the first place?”

She giggles, metaphorically patting herself on the back for her accomplishment. But Luca doesn’t grant her even a sliver of satisfaction. Instead, he gazes at her with tired eyes.

“I don’t give a shit, Caroline. You had my brother feeding you sensitive information about the organization and my movements. You have a bone to pick with me or the Petruccis in general. You desire power and influence because you can’t have anything else in your miserable life. And you’re trying to use my wife as your personal punching bag. Everything else is irrelevant, so go ahead, call the shots. What do you want?”

Caroline seems rather disappointed, almost irritated. Luca stole her thunder, and her face contorts with fury before she takes a deep breath and decides to focus on the situation before her.

“Fine. It’s simple really,” she says. “I’ve thought about what would make us happy, given the circumstances. Consider this a lost war, Luca. We end it here. Marry me, and we’ll raise Michael together. We’ll unite our families like we originally intended. You get to live, keep your nephew, and I get to save my family’s honor.”

“And Valentina?”

“She’s no longer needed,” Caroline replies. “I’ll raise Michael as my own. The boy represents the closest we’ll ever get to continuing both bloodlines.”

“How if I’m not a Mancuso by blood?” I cut in.

Caroline’s glare is vicious. “Shut the fuck up.” She returns her focus to Luca. “These are the terms of the deal. Take it, and we’ll sign a peace treaty right here. Our partners in the Camorra are ready to accept and support it. I’m sure what’s left of your syndicate will support if you tell them to. It’s the easiest way to prevent a war, and for you to keep your nephew.”

“And if I say no?” Luca asks, his nostrils flaring.

“You die. And Michael dies. You all die.”

Luca nods slowly, taking everything in. It sounds insane. Delusional even, and I can tell from Mauro’s doubtful frown that he doesn’t truly believe in Caroline’s plan.

“Even if you kill me, Stefano is alive. There will still be a Petrucci left standing,” Luca says, “because as we speak, my crew is storming the Mayfair house. They’ll get my brother out of there.”

“They’re too late,” Mauro scoffs.

We all hear the door open again. Stefano is brought in, looking confused and red-faced as soon as he sees us. For a moment, I lose my breath at the sight of him—not because of some lingering feelings I might harbor toward him. There aren’t any left. It’s merely a sense of familiarity, of disappointment, of disgust.

“Luca,” Stefano mutters. Embarrassment makes him falter and stare at his shoes, stealing glances at me from across the room. “What’s happening, Caroline? We had a deal!”

“I changed the terms and conditions.” She laughs, then looks at me. “Don’t say I never did anything for you, sis. See? I’m giving you a chance to confront your baby daddy.” She pauses and turns to Luca. “Seems like I have all the relevant Petruccis in my living room. And don’t worry about the rest of your family. I’ve got eyes on them, too. If you refuse to marry me, Luca, I will wipe you all out.”

“I suppose you thought you could get away with all of this,” Luca replies. He keeps side-eyeing his brother, and I see the flicker of pain in his glances, the hesitation, but the anger, the grief, they’re too much to bear, even for him.

“I do,” Caroline says, then gives her father a playful wink.

The security guards pull back, lingering by the door, while Reece stays close to Luca, the gun poking my husband’s ribs.

“It all started with this piece of shit,” Mauro says, nodding at Stefano. “He just had to come after one of my own.”

“Had you told me about this, I would’ve handled it,” Luca says. “I never would’ve allowed him to do what he did.”