Page 39 of The Secrets We Share

I don’t follow up on my request; instead, I let it lie between us. Alina’s look of disinterest while studying her cuticles tells me she’s nothing more than a true pawn for Domenico to moveabout his little chessboard. I should feel bad for her, but there wasn’t an inch in my heart that gave a damn.

“I commend your directness, Keira. Why don’t we get down to it.”

I motion for him to continue, waiting to see if he’ll play his cards or create another maze of nonsense for us to dig through.

“I want you to join the family.”

“Pass. I’m not interested in having anything to do with you or what you seem to think is a family endeavor. You made sure of that the first and last time we met.”

“I think we got started on the wrong foot. I can see that now.”

“You think? Kidnapping doesn’t really instill much trust in a budding father-daughter relationship.”

“Understandable, but hear me out. I think you’ll want to stick around this time.”

“Really, and why’s that?”

Domenico reaches into his jacket pocket. Harkin tenses next to me, his trigger finger sliding into place and asserting the slightest bit of pressure. He doesn’t relax when Domenico pulls out a small piece of paper. But then he flips it right side up, pushing it across the glass table with stiff fingers.

It’s an old photo, crinkled and torn at the edges, with a yellow tint. When my fingers snag it from the table and bring it into view, I lose the oxygen filling my lungs. She’s beautiful, and her vintage ensemble is something I’ve only seen in movies. That’s not the piece that shocks me. We’re almost identical, and it’s as if my twin status has been bumped to one of three.

“Who—who is this?” I stumble out.

“Your namesake.”

“Wait. On Mom’s side?”

“Keira isn’t exactly an Italian name.”

I do my best not to lose my shit at his condescending tone. “Okay, but who is she? Our grandmother?”

“Close, your great-grandmother.”

I take in the small details of the photo. How our noses slant at the same angle or the way our foreheads share the same deep crease. “Thanks for the family ancestry lesson, but I don’t see how you think this will sway me into the fold.”

“Keira Fitzpatrick has a nice ring to it. But Donahue is your mother’s real surname. Though you technically should be a Morelli.”

“I, technically, don’t give a shit. And to be quite honest with you, I’m glad Mom picked something all her own. It breaks my connection to both of you.”

“See, I told you she wouldn’t care. Selfish as ever,” Alina adds for the first time since she walked into the room.

My body lurches forward, hands slapping against the glass table. The noise grabs her attention, and her eyes widen. “Don’t fucking act like you know me, princess. But I sure as hell know you, and if you want to point fingers at who’d be the selfish one, it sure as shit isn’t me.”

Harkin’s warm hand wraps around the front of my bare thigh, squeezing to draw me back to center. The point of this meeting is losing traction. Was there once a time when I wanted nothing more than to be the little girl with a big, happy family? Sure. But that little girl is long gone. I’d rather never hear a word from these people again than have to jump through hoops to earn the affection of a stranger. Shit, at this point, I’d rather go back to my boring life of stalking Harkin online and working at the airline.

I settle back on the chair as my point strikes home. She knows, I know, exactly how she used to be with Harkin. Not to mention everything I learned from watching her life through the scope of the lens she aimed at herself.

“What about my father?” Harkin sidesteps the current sisterly vendetta.

“Your father owes me a lot of money, Mr. Greyson. Most men in his predicament aren’t offered options.”

“So, he’s still alive?” I throw it out because I’m nosey, and I’m sure Harkin wants to know, but won’t ask.

“For now, but it won’t be that way much longer.”

“If it’s your missing money you want, I can get it for you. Just hand over the account you want it wired to. We can handle this right here and now. No need to drag it out.”

“That won’t be necessary. Plus, that brings me to my proposition for you both. Grant me a single favor, and I’ll release the elder Greyson with no more harm done to him.”

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