Page 81 of Borrowed Bride

“Dad?” he says weakly. “He wouldn’t, there’s no way because he…” He pauses and straightens up suddenly, then turns to Dante.

“That’s what he meant.”

“Huh?” Marco sends up a single glance.

“Remember I told you on his deathbed I overheard him talking about your family and sister? He was talking about Fawn, not Emilia. All those years, he knew she was alive and out there because he put her out there himself.”

“I’m sorry,” Marco says tightly.

“If he wasn’t dead, I’d kill him myself,” Leo grunts, then he moves forward and drags Fawn off of Dante.

Dante is a panting, bleeding mess. His shirt is torn open and blood constantly drools from his lower lip. One eye is swelling shut and his head drifts back and forth.

“You see?” he slurs. “No one’s family is perfect, but at least I never sold my own kid.”

“You tried to though, didn’t you? You were talking about marrying Emilia off before it was too late.” Marco starts to pace back and forth in front of his father. “I never did ask who you wanted to marry her to because I was never going to let you. But it was the Ricci’s, wasn’t it?”

Dante laughs and he sounds like he’s drowning.

“Then why me?” I step forward, my heart pounding ferociously beneath my chest. Each step feels like I’m walking on Jello from how hard my legs tremble. “You hid that I was alive. You hid that I had a child. You kept me a prisoner under the guise of safety. Why?”

Dante lifts his head and when we lock eyes, the faint back and forth of his head stops. “You,” Dante murmurs. “You were an impossible irritation. A piece I never planned for and in truth I just wanted you dead. But then I saw that baby. And I knew. In my bones I knew who the father was. It was the eyes, you see. I looked at that baby and I saw Marco’s eyes.”

My skin crawls and I clutch at my elbow to try and stem the sensation across my skin.

“But I couldn’t raise a baby.” He laughs at the thought. “Setting off the explosives in the safe house was supposed to erase two problems, but Marco survived and with that, you suddenly had use. You could do the raising until the time was right.”

“Right for what?” Marco demands sharply.

“You and Leo would kill each other eventually, then I would marry Gianna makingourdaughter legitimate. Then I’d marry Freya off to the Ricci’s, let them absorb us and power would be?—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish. Marco is on him and there’s no stopping him. The fury he unleashes is unlike anything I’ve seen before, and it matches the flurry in which my mind races.

If Marco had died in that explosion five years ago, Dante would have killed me and taken my baby? And because he didn’t, he locked me up to care for her while waiting for Marco and Leo to kill each other off.

When he looked at my daughter, all he saw was something he could use.

I feel sick. My stomach churns in sharp circles as my mind floods with the awful future that was awaiting me, that I was completely oblivious to.

It hurts.

And as I watch Marco beat his father to a pulp, I catch a glimpse of the pleased look in Dante’s eye.

“Marco, stop,” I say, rushing forward. Marco doesn’t hear me, he’s so blinded with rage. As his arm flies back to punch Dante once more, I catch it and he freezes. When he looks at me, there’s such pain in his eyes that my heart breaks for him.

“Don’t,” I say softly through the tears building in my eyes. “He’s not worth it.”

“But he?—”

“I know, but he wants this. Look at him. He wants you to break while denying the one person who deserves to take his life.”

Marco pants heavily, then we look to Fawn who stares coldly down at Dante.

“What? Not got the balls to finish it?” Dante gurgles behind a smashed jaw.

“Nah,” Marco sniffs and he steps back, his shoulders heaving. “It’s not up to me.”

After a few silent glances, Leo, Marco, and I leave Fawn alone with Dante. We head out of the bakery and gather in the parking lot, giving Fawn the time she needs to put to rest a man who caused her such terrible pain. As we wait, I clean up Marco the best I can, wiping away the blood and trying to clean his busted knuckles.

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