Page 48 of The Hidden Heir

“How so?”

“He’s nothing like Stefano, for starters.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Puh-lease, it’s not like you ever met the real Stefano. That bastard swindled you into sleeping with him and damn near destroyed our already shabby family in the process. I think sewer rat is a better name for him, rather than Stefano Petrucci at this point.”

“Wow,” I say and almost laugh. “Don’t hold back, Caroline. Tell me how you really feel.”

“Can you blame me? We had balance; we had a life together. You were going to study and do your own thing. Someday, Papa would find you a suitor, someone worthy of you. Stefano turned everything upside down, and I had to pick up the pieces after you left.”

My pained look hopefully reveals sympathy. “But do you understand why I left, Caroline? Do you really understand?”

She takes a moment to carefully consider her answer. The one thing I’ve known about Caroline ever since we were little girls is that she knows when to speak and when to hold her tongue—especially when it comes to discussing delicate matters.

“I understand why you left, but that doesn’t mean I liked it,” Caroline replies. “It certainly doesn’t mean I was okay with it either.”

“Did Papa ever tell you what he was going to do?”

Caroline stills, her eyes widening for a second. But her calmness quickly returns. “What do you mean?”

“Did Papa ever tell you what he was going to do after he found out I was pregnant with Michael?”

“No.”

“He said we were going to talk about it in the morning and discuss our options. Options, he called them,” I scoff. “You do know what ‘options’ meant, right?”

My blood boils from the memory of that night, the anger and fear that washed over me. The dread that ultimately pushed me to pack a bag and sneak out of the Mancuso mansion in the middle of the night.

“He was going to take away my right to choose,” I tell Caroline. “Because I never intended to terminate the pregnancy or to give my baby up for adoption. Given Papa’s hatred of the Petruccis, you do realize both options were on the table, don’t you?”

She sighs heavily. “Yes.”

“Me keeping my child was likely at the bottom, and I doubt he would’ve allowed it.”

“Me, too,” Caroline concedes. “But you did what you had to do. The pieces I had to pick up certainly don’t compare to being a single mother and all that entails. I know that, too. I guess each of us paid a price.”

“Stefano, too. He had the most to pay,” I say.

“I agree. I think he deserved to suffer more for what he did to you, using you like that. It was mean and it was cruel. And for the love of God, we need to find a way to stop this feud between our families. You’re with the Petruccis now. I’m still very much a Mancuso. Maybe we can finally bridge that gap the proper way.”

“That’s why I’m here, Caroline. There were people chasing Luca and me a few nights ago. Luca says it was merely a psychological tactic to scare us and throw us off our game,” I tell her. “Did Papa mention anything about it?”

Caroline frowns and then shakes her head. “He wouldn’t do something like that. The box at your wedding reception was definitely him. It’s typical of his spiteful nature. But Papa is always direct in his confrontations. Physical. Abusive, even. Following you around just to torment you is not his thing, I’m almost certain of it.”

She pauses and leans forward. “Don’t forget the Petruccis have always had enemies besides the Mancusos. It’s been lonely up there at the top for them. It’s the loneliest for Luca, who’s having to deal with the bridges Stefano burned on top of everything else.”

“What do we do then?”

“A peace accord. We draft a peace accord that entices Papa into at least considering it. And I can pick it up from there, talk it over with him until he agrees to sign it.”

I nod slowly, leaning back in my chair. My vanilla latte feels like sweet comfort rolling down my throat. Around us, the café gets a little more crowded. A few students join the others already cramming for their exams. One of the moms leaves with her kid in tow, and two young women in blazers take her table.

“What would a pact like that sound like?” I ask Caroline. “What would the terms and conditions be?”

“Well, it’s always been about territory and resources with our families. That’s what they’ve always fought about,” she says. “If Luca agrees to concede some of the former Mancuso-owned territories, I’m sure Papa will back off his persistence to bring Michael into our family.”

I shake my head. “Papa doesn’t have a leg to stand on from a biological perspective. DNA will show that I am the biological parent, Caroline. Plus, Luca will never even consider surrendering any territories, not after what happened at the wedding.”

“Well, dammit, Valentina, something’s got to give. If push comes to shove, you know Papa will extinguish the rest of the Petruccis. He’ll get to you, too, and Michael will end up being raised by the Mancusos. Both of our families are hanging by a thread. Our bloodlines are messed up. We have to find some kind of middle ground.”