Page 124

“Your mother,” I mumble, touching my lips. Signing, I glance back at Roman, who watches us with thinly veiled contempt. “Are you my father?”

My guard nods. A small one, as if he’s ashamed.

Mio Dio. I’m not a Bruno.

“You were a happy accident,” he says quietly. “Someone made from true love.”

“Papa killed Mama when he found out.” Ello nods, somber and sad.

My stomach drops. There was no car crash. It was a lie.

“You were using Mama’s money to finance us,” I accuse, glancing at Roman. “Money she left me.”

“It should’ve been mine,” he seethes. “As the eldest, it is my right⁠—”

“You already became head of the family!” I shout. “You had the name. The power. Mama left it to me, to take care of me because none of you would. I’m the only child she loved.”

Valentina. Saint Valentine. It all makes sense.

Roman staggers back, holding his chest. As surely as I had stabbed him, he feels the same type of pain, and I smirk.

“What made you better than me?” he asks. “Better than Julian? You’re defective, and yet she left her fortune to you? Papa had nothing and lived off her money. But somehow, she kept it from him, leaving the rest to you. When he was arrested, I found that out the hard way. We were broke.”

His eyes, twin spots of coal, dance with evil.

“But I figured out how to fix it. There’s a clause. The money can be used to take care of you until you get married. Papa did it, so I did too.”

“You dangled me like a carrot to the Scipione family,” I say grimly. “Let them pay for everything and use my money for whatever you want.”

He shrugs. “It worked. Until you had to get married to an O’Brien.” He rears back as if he smells something rotten. “You’re tainted. And now, I’m destitute.”

“Good.”

“Unless I get that will.” He kneels at the box, scooping the notes back together. “She hid it, and I’m sure she put it in this box. If I can change it…” He looks up, face dark with rage. “Tell me where it is, and I’ll protect you from Scipione.”

His desperation hangs in the air, and I laugh, body shaking with each chuckle. He’s insane to think I need him. That I’ll help.

“I’m an O’Brien now, Roman.” Hands on my hips, I glare down at him. “And the clan protects its own. I don’t need you.”

“That’s a relief,” a deep voice says behind me. Ello struggles, and Hayes almost breaks free before more men come in. It takes double the number to subdue him, and it’s only enough.

Marco Scipione stands there, in a pinstripe gray suit, and a bright red tie around his neck. His peppered locks are combed over his head, his weathered face grinning from the shadows. I don’t see Freddie.

“Marco.”

“I’m so glad you no longer need your brother, bimba,” he drawls, pulling on his cuffs. “That means you’re ready to be a Scipione.”

I fist my hands at my sides. “No. I’m already married.”

Pushing me, I’m forced against the desk. He yanks down my sundress and traces the branding on my shoulder. I shudder against his touch and try not to vomit all over the desk. His touch is the cool caress of death, and I want no part of it.

“This? This says you’re a Scipione. Your marriage is void.” He tosses me into two men’s waiting arms. “Take her to the car. She has a duty to perform.” His brown eyes flash as he sees Hayes and Ello. “Put them downstairs. By the time the clan captain finds them, we’ll be long gone.”

“Afraid she’ll kill you?” Hayes taunts. Another man hits him, and I shout, begging them to stop. Hayes coughs, blood trickling into his beard.

Marco chuckles, adjusting his tie. “I’m not afraid of any woman.”

As he walks with me to the door, I sneer at him, “You should be. But not of her. Of me.”