Chapter 104

CESARE

Fury pounds through my chest with a touch of terror. It's even worse than how I felt when he confronted me at the airport because there's no plane to protect Miranda.

I push her toward my back and say, "Go back inside."

This time, she doesn't argue. With a whimper, she disappears back into the boat.

As soon as I'm sure she's safe, I turn back to the soon-to-be-dead bastard. He sways on his feet, his breath ragged, his eyes getting glassier by the minute.

"What are you going to do, old man?" I say through clenched teeth. "You going to shoot me?"

He lowers his gun. "Be reasonable, Cesare. You're my only son."

"Did you ever wonder how you lost your other children?"

He frowns. "They were assassinated. Why are you getting between me and my daughter?"

"You spent your entire life terrorizing innocent people. Fucking them over. They died because of you. You, your brother, and your twisted associates messed with the wrong people, and they paid the price."

His face crumples, and tears roll down his cheeks. This remorseless monster is finally putting together the consequences of his actions. "What are you saying? What's this got to do with my girl?"

"I want you to know that everything you've done has led to this moment. You losing the family you held dear and being despised by the children you have left."

His eyes widen, and his lips part with a denial. Before he can spew any more bullshit, I shoot him in the throat. The gun drops from his fingers, and he falls backward into the water.

I walk to the edge of the platform and look down at the face of Matty Galliano. The man who raped and impregnated Mom. The man who did the same to Rosalind.

Seeing him floating on his back, choking on blood gurgling from his mouth and throat gives me immense satisfaction.

His watery eyes meet mine, his features etched with betrayal and pain. He mouths my name, but the sound is lost to the crashing of the waves.

"Be grateful you're too repulsive to me to keep alive," I say. "Because I would like nothing more than to torture you for the rest of your pathetic life."

As he coughs out a mouthful of blood, I lean over his body and spit. "But don't worry. I'll make sure your last few moments of life are filled with despair."

Hours later, sunlight streams through the windows, landing on their beautiful faces. They sleep facing each other, looking like angels at rest. Rosalind shivered in the middle of the night from withdrawal, but she calmed when I gave her another dose of Christian's antidote.

My chest tightens at the thought of them leaving. I haven't slept a fucking wink, too preoccupied with engraving every detail of their faces to memory.

Rosalind has completed her end of the bargain. She helped me destroy the Moirai and take down the Galliano brothers. If she decides to leave, I will let her go because I love her too much to keep her captive.

Miranda knows the whole truth, now. She understands that I used her as a pawn to get to Rosalind, that I'm no different from Gunther. The betrayal that flashed across her features when I explained what I had done broke my heart, even though she claimed to forgive my actions.

A soft knock on the door pulls me out of my funk. I go to answer it and find Gil standing in the hallway, with his head bowed.

"Roman wants to see you in the study," he says.

"Later."

"It's urgent."

With a sigh, I cast them one final glance, wondering if Rosalind will use this opening to wake Miranda and flee or if she'll at least stay to get her two million dollars.

My heart pounds as I walk through the hallways and down the stairs. They know. Know that I'm not a Montesano. Know that I'm a Galliano. Know I held this secret for years, living among my brothers like a traitor in their midst.

I pause at the study door, trying to push back a wave of dread, but the weight of my deception drags my stomach to the marble floor. Gil pushes it open, and I step inside.

Roman's desk is empty, and the portrait of him hanging above it glowers down at me, its eyes harsh with accusation. I turn to the sofas, where he and Benito await.

My oldest brother looks so disheveled and half-starved that my jaw drops. His eyes are bloodshot and rimmed with red, like he's spent the entire night crying. And the way he slumps on the sofa makes him seem like he's lost fifty pounds. Roman didn't even look this bad in prison.

"What's happened?" I ask.

Roman's jaw tightens. "How long did you know you were Matty Galliano's son?"

Flinching at the directness, I clear my throat. "I didn't know anything for sure?—"

"When did you find out?" he growls.

"Mom left a letter addressed to me, saying that I wasn't Dad's son."

"Where is it?" he asks.

"I tore it and burned the pieces."

Roman and Benito exchange glances, probably detecting my bullshit. I would never destroy anything belonging to Mom, but neither of my brothers know how to break safes.

"If you're wondering about my loyalty, don't bother. Enzo Montesano is the only father I acknowledge."

Roman nods. "Considering Benito saw your girlfriend blow up Tommy Galliano's helicopter and you shot Matty, I'd say you're still loyal."

"Then why am I here?" I ask. "Is this about Rosalind?"

He waves off my question.

"Then what?"

"I got a phone call from Tommy Galliano's son, saying his father survived the helicopter crash and wants to speak to you."

My eyes widen. The Galliano brothers are as tenacious as herpes.

"He can go to hell," I spit.

Roman clasps his hands together and nods.

"What happened with Emberly?" I ask.

"She found out about Roman's scam and locked him up without his clothes or phone."

Benito's tone is filled with the familiar inflections of an ‘I told you so', as though he predicted that situation with the crazy balcony woman would backfire. Roman shoots him an annoyed glower.

I don't have the mental bandwidth to look too deeply into their interactions, especially when I remember something Tommy muttered.

"The first night Tommy locked us up in his house, he mentioned having a guest. He also said you were tied to a bondage table."

Roman grimaces. "She already left them."

"Are you sure about that?" I ask.

"Tommy's son would have mentioned her if she was still at their house. Ten minutes with Tommy would let Emberly know she was in the presence of a psychopath. She's too resourceful not to take advantage of last night's chaos to escape. Trust me, she's gone."

I nod, not entirely convinced, but then I don't know Emberly. Roman might be right. My brother already took her inheritance, so Tommy wouldn't need her for her money. If they had her, the Galliano family would use her as leverage to at least find out what happened to Matty.

Benito rubs the back of his neck and frowns like he's trying to figure out a puzzle. "Tommy can't have escaped that helicopter crash unscathed."

They continue speculating on whether Tommy's son was bullshitting about his father's survival, and where the old bastard might have crawled. None of these theories hold my interest.

The disgusting words Matty shared about my conception slither through my mind like venomous slugs, poisoning my thoughts. Would bringing up something so terrible dishonor Mom's memory, grant her a form of posthumous justice, or reopen old wounds?

"What do you want us to do with Matty's corpse?" Benito's voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

"We keep the body hostage until Tommy tells us what he did with Mom's," I reply. "He can also explain to us what exactly happened twenty-five years ago."

Roman deflates, looking like time he spent in captivity broke him more than the five years he spent on death row. "Excellent work, Cesare."

Benito nods. "Both of you."

Wow.

The first time neither of them look at me like I'm a fuck-up, and I can't even bask in their praise. I always wanted my brother's approval, but getting it now feels hollow without Miranda and Rosalind.

"If Rosalind is seeking employment, tell her we're recruiting," Roman says.

"Talent like hers is more suited to an establishment like the casino," Benito says.

A possessive rage turns the edges of my vision red. Clenching my fists, I breathe through flared nostrils, ready to claim her as mine.

But she isn't mine because our bargain is complete.

I couldn't imprison her after discovering she was Miranda's mother and I sure as hell can't do the same, knowing that she gave birth to my sister.

"She wants to leave," I say, the words flat.

My brothers rise off the leather sofas. "Are you sure?" Roman asks. "She can't keep you from your sister."

"I already agreed to let her go if she helped with the Galliano brothers."

"Technically, she failed because Tommy isn't dead." Benito rubs his chin.

"She's more likely to cut off my balls if I try to trap her with a loophole."

The corner of Benito's mouth lifts in a smile.

"Offer a place in this family, working or not," Roman says. "And I want to meet my niece."

"Miranda is our step-sister," Benito says, not sounding sure.

"Our step-cousin, since she's our stepfather's niece."

I leave them both arguing about the technicalities of our family tree, my empty stomach roiling with dread. Emberly isn't the only one capable of escaping mafia strongholds. By the time I reach my room, Rosalind and Miranda might be gone.