Page 64 of Malevolent Secrets

Daniella’s personal touch was evident in every corner—from the carefully chosen artwork on the walls to the plush cushions on the sofa. All the furniture in the house was mismatched in a way that would normally have been too chaotic for me to handle, but Daniella makes chaos look good.

Despite its size, the house felt open and airy, with plenty of natural light streaming through the windows.

“She put her heart into that place,” Renee continues, and it’s so rare to hear my sister sound like she actually cares about someone.

“She did,” I say, thinking back to the details I noticed. “It might be small, but it’s beautiful and inviting.”

“Anyways, Jeremy clearly wasn’t bringing any of the big bucks he was earning into their home. Unless she has a secret penchant for suffering and poverty, then she didn’t know about it.”

I turn to Vincent.

“You knew about this?”

He is twirling his glass in his hand and still looks like sitting here with us is the last place on earth he wants to be.

“Yes.”

“Don’t give him grief. He told you what you needed to know and I asked him to keep my business private.”

“Except, it wasn’t just your business. This concerns me too. This concerns the entire family.”

Renee has always been a lone wolf, running off on her own and making a name for herself completely separate from us. It’s something I’ve always admired, except for when it pisses me off, like right now.

“I know that. Which is why he told you about the relationship between the two in the first place. I thought that learning that she was Jeremy’s fiancé would be enough to get you to stay away, but clearly I underestimated your ability to think with your dick.”

“Really, Vincent. You allow a woman to tell you what you can or can’t tell me?”

“Don’t fucking talk about me like I’m not here, and what do you mean ‘a woman’?”

I turn my glare away from Vincent and back to her.

“You’re a woman, or is that something else you’ve had changed?”

She opens her mouth and closes it two times before she raises her finger to point at me.

It is so similar to how Mama would always wag her finger at me when I'd done something she considered wrong. It amazes me sometimes how similar they look.

They have the same ebony hair and green eyes, the same fire in their hearts. But while Mama had been an expert at keeping that fire contained, Renee never cared much for extinguishing her flames, and they always ended up burning those around her.

“This ‘woman’ is the one who told you not to trust Jeremy. This woman, is the one who thought to investigate him. This woman is the only reason you know that she is Jeremy’s widow. Do not call me ‘woman’ like it’s a derogatory term.”

I know that it is wrong to have said that, that this is a problem she always had with our father. He never believed that women could do the things that we do. He always felt that women should be taken care of, protected and provided for, rather than them taking care of themselves.

His grand plans for Renee’s life had been for her to marry a man in the Cosa Nostra, have a bunch of sons and live out her life planting magnolias. In fact, he had betrothed her to Massimo, but she and I had decided that she didn’t have to honor that promise once our father died. He might have been our friend when we were children, but he was not a fit friend or husband as a grown man.

Renee had nipped any ideas of compliance in the bud as soon as she went off to boarding school. Her choice of lifestyle was always a bone of contention between herself and my father, even at the end of his life.

“I suffered years of discrimination and condescension from Dad and the rest of the men I'm surrounded with. I won't take it from you too.”

“I shouldn't have said that. It was wrong, and I apologize.”

“I was right. I need you to say that I was right.”

It’s not a hard ask. I've never been one to withhold compliments, especially when they are earned.

“You were right.”

She exhales and nods.

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