Page 90 of Read This Before the Villain falls in Love with You

A quiet sound by the door makes me turn. Nonna stands in the doorway, framed by the hall light. She does not look surprised like the boys. She just looks at the radio and the books with deep, tired pain in her eyes.

Luca turns toward her, stepping forward as his voice falls to a low whisper. "Nonna. You knew. Uncle Vittorio stayed locked in this room for years. He could never look at us, even when we went to visit him. What are you hiding?"

Nonna closes her eyes tight, her fingers white around her prayer beads. When she opens them, tears run down her face. Nonna whispers, chin trembling. "Because thirty years ago, Vittorio lost his lover. That is all I will tell you. The rest of the truth... you must hear it from his own mouth."

Luca stares at her, his face turning to stone. He turns on his heel without another word. "Adrian, get the car. Enzo, Matteo, Nora. We are going to the care home right now."

No one argues. Leaving Nonna in the quiet hallway with Sofia, we head straight out into the night. Within half an hour, the car pulls up outside the private sanitarium on the outskirts of town. The clinical white corridors smell of antiseptic and sickness, completely empty as we make our way toward the room at the far end.

Luca pushes the heavy wooden door open without knocking.

An aged man sits propped up in a medical bed by the window, breathing slowly. Tubes run from his thin arm, but his sunken eyes brighten with cold realization as we step inside.

"You guys came finally," he murmurs, a hollow rasp in his voice.

The words hit the room like a physical blow. Matteo stumbles back a half step, Enzo's mouth falls open in complete disbelief, and Luca's jaw clenches until the muscles tick beneath his skin. There is no denial in his eyes. He really did it.

"Why?" Luca demands, his voice low and vibrating with raw fury. "Why would you betray us, uncle? You raised us!"

Vittorio looks at Luca, his gaze cloudy with decades of grief and exhaustion. A ghost of a broken smile touches his pale lips.

Vittorio stares straight into his nephew's eyes. "Have you ever loved someone hard, Luca? Hard enough to destroy your own family for them?"

Chapter 35

VITTORIO

The room smelled of bleach, damp stone, and cold rain. I sat in the motorized chair by the tall windows, my paralyzed legs covered by a wool blanket. Outside, thunder rumbled across the Sicilian hills. Inside, the small room was crowded. Luca stood near the door with his jaw clamped shut, his dark eyes fixed on me. That little British girl stood next to him, watching every machine and every line on my face. Matteo, Enzo, and Adrian waited at the foot of my bed in complete silence.

Luca stepped closer, his knuckles white with anger. "Start talking, Uncle."

My cold hands rested on the armrests. I pointed with my chin toward the wooden box on the nightstand. "Open it, Luca. If you want to know why your parents died on that mountain road twenty years ago, you have to look at how it began."

Luca stepped forward, his leather shoes clicking against the tile floor. He flicked open the tarnished brass clasp. Inside lay the badge, the tarnished cufflinks, the folded letter, and the old photograph.

"Thirty years ago, I was the youngest son in the Moretti family," I told them, my voice scratchy and dry. "Your father was the favorite child, Luca. The perfect heir. We held the power, the money, and the city. I thought nothing could hurt us. I thought I understood how our life worked."

I looked past Luca's shoulder into the rain. "Then Gabriel Rossi crossed my path in Palermo. Not at a party or a dinner. I met him in an alley by the harbor, with broken bottles on the ground and three Bellini men trying to shoot me dead."

Thirty years ago, rain beat down on the stones outside a Palermo warehouse. I had two cracked ribs and my back pressed against wet brick, holding an empty gun while three Bellini men came closer with open blades. Suddenly, a man jumped over the brick wall behind them and struck the first fighter with an iron pipe.

He dropped the second man with a quick hit to the throat, dodged a blade, and slammed the last man into the brick wall until the alley went dead quiet. When he turned to face me, blood dripped from his knuckles and his wet hair clung to his forehead.

He dropped the metal pipe onto the wet pavement with a loud clang. "You look like hell, friend."

"I had it under control," I coughed. My hand pressed against my sore ribs to keep from falling.

"Sure you did. That empty gun was terrifying." Gabriel wiped dirt and blood across his sleeve and held out a hand. "I'm Gabriel. Gabriel Rossi. A soldier from Chicago."

I knocked his palm away, dragging my shoulders up against the slick bricks. "Vittorio Moretti. And I don't need help from a stranger wearing boots two sizes too big."

Gabriel looked down at his scuffed boots and laughed softly. "The airline lost my bag. But you are welcome for the help anyway."

I gritted my teeth against the sharp stab in my side. "Why the hell did you jump in?"

Gabriel grinned and closed the space between us until I caught the scent of rain, sweat, and cheap soap. "As a charming knight, it's my duty to save the prince. Besides, I saw three cowards jumping someone who was fighting back with everything he had. I liked that about you."

I leaned back against the wet brick, staring right into his dark eyes. "You don't know who I am, or who owns these docks. My family runs this entire territory."