Page 71 of Sinful Secrets

Elizabeth answers for him with a sneer. “It was a tragic car accident. No survivors.”

There is no emotion in her voice, as if she’s known about it since it happened. As if it wasn’t really an accident.

Son of a bitch. Did Giuseppe kill his wife to steal Arturo’s?

Giuseppe clears his throat. “We also have matters to discuss regarding the local gang, but Arturo and I can do that in my office. I believe there are conversations that need to be had.”

Arturo stands and follows Giuseppe out of the living room, leaving us in an awkward silence.

Elizabeth uncrosses her legs and stands before walking over to the bar cart. “I suppose you want to know why I faked my death all those years ago?”

Joey huffs and stands. “Honestly, I don’t give a flying fuck what your reasoning for faking your death was. I’m going to find Dad and see what we can do about the gang.”

He disappears down the hallway.

Francesca leans back, resting her body tightly against Rhett’s. “Well, go on.”

Elizabeth purses her lips. It’s identical to the way Francesca looks at Rhett when she’s annoyed at him.

“Wow.” I murmur to myself.

Rhett gives me a knowing glance, like he sees the same thing I do.

“A long time ago, before I met your father, I was in love with Giuseppe, but my parents didn’t approve. Back then, his family was poor and barely a functioning mafia. My father had big dreams, and they all depended on me marrying into a rich family.”

She downs her drink before making another one.

“My father made me marry Arturo. We never got along, but it was a business transaction. One that required me to produce an heir.”

Francesca stands. “You gave Dad an heir when you had Joey. Why did you stick around and have me if you were so miserable?”

Elizabeth clinks her nails on the crystal wineglass. “Don’t ask questions you aren’t ready to hear the answers to.”

“Tell me.” Francesca growls out.

“You weren’t planned. It just sort of happened one night after I was with Giuseppe. I was tipsy and horny and your father was a willing participant.”

“So you slept with Giuseppe, then came home and slept with Dad?”

Why is she even asking this? Does she really want to know about her mother’s sex life?

Elizabeth shrugs as she sits back down. “Don’t think you’re any better than me. You were sleeping with my boyfriend’s son. You are just like me, going after your family’s rival.”

“I’m nothing like you. I’m in love with an outsider, someone who didn’t know about the mafia, and things were going great for us until you came back to life.”

Elizabeth fakes a yawn. “I’m sorry to put a halt to your plans.”

This is a weird interaction that seems to serve absolutely no purpose.

Francesca moves to stand next to the couch. Right next to Rhett. Her hand rests on his shoulder. “The plans are still on. I will marry him one day. If he will still have me.”

Has something happened to them since the funeral?

Elizabeth finishes her wine and sets her glass on the end table. “Francesca, don’t beg or grovel. It’s beneath you.”

“So what was the point of the visit? You just needed to tell me how in love with a Rossi you are? Did you want to rub it in our faces that you were living your best life while we were mourning you?”

A tear falls down her cheek, but she swipes it away before more can fall.

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