Page 14 of Reign of Psychos

“He knew Thea’s mother,” Cassian said out of nowhere. My attention switched from the small blip on screen, which told me Dario was in a cemetery, to Cassian.

“What?”

“He didn’t give me any details, but he says they connected at Cambridge.” Cassian looked ill, and I frowned. “He thinks that’s why Francesco tried to discredit me and mess up the deal with John Bale-Lyon, which he achieved.”

“Why would Francesco care if your father knew Thea’s mother? Presumably it was before they got married, if she was also at Cambridge?”

Cassian threw me an agonized look. “What if…” His voice trailed off and I cocked my head to one side, curious as to where this was going. He seemed way too invested in whatever relationship Lucian had had with Thea’s mother.

“What are you worried about?” I asked, hoping to cut to the chase. Counseling wasn’t my strong suit. If he wanted empathy, he was better off talking to Landon.

“Fuck!” I watched with interest as he picked up an energy drink bottle and threw it at the wall. Luckily, it was empty. We didn’t need Declan’s housekeeper bitching about the mess in here.

I was so busy imagining what Declan might do if he decided we were abusing his hospitality that I almost missed what Cassian said next.

“What if Thea is my half-sister?”

The words sank in.

Fuck.

8

Thea

Dario pushed me back against a tall tree, out of sight. His eyes flashed with fury, which sent a spike of irritation through my veins.

I’d come here to pay my respects to Fausto. Yes, my disguise wasn’t perfect, but I figured nobody would pay much attention to a feeble old woman carrying a bunch of flowers. They’d assume I was visiting a grave.

Sure enough, none of Francesco’s guards paid me any attention when I shuffled into the cemetery from the south entrance. I kept my head down and stooped like an arthritic old crone. The god-awful polyester dress and brown tights helped, as well as the wool hat and shawl that covered half my face.

“You shouldn’t have come, Thea!” Dario hissed. “Your father and Torrance have only just left. Fuck. If they’d seen you…” He raked his fingers through his damp hair, the gaunt lines of his face betraying how much his father’s death had affected him.

“I know. I watched the funeral from the trees. None of them saw me.” I’d made sure to keep back while pretending to weedan old grave that belonged to some guy called Antonio, beloved husband of Clara, who died aged 87.

Antonio’s grave was now tidy and weed-free. I’d even left the flowers for him. Hopefully Clara wouldn’t show up and wonder who’d been visiting his grave.

Dario cursed some more and then stepped back. The rain fell harder, dripping down my face, soaking the shawl wrapped around my neck. Because it was wool, it itched horribly. Behind Dario, the open grave yawned, abandoned floral tributes scattered around.

The staff were nowhere in sight. I assumed they were sipping hot drinks somewhere, waiting for the last of the family to leave before they filled in the grave.

Dario scrubbed his tight jaw. “We need to get out of here.”

I felt like rolling my eyes, but my irritation melted away seeing how upset he was. Dario was right to worry. If my father had seen me here, he’d have stopped at nothing to capture me again. Funeral be damned.

But he hadn’t.

“Go. You need to show your face at the wake.”

“I know.” He gritted his teeth, not making any move to leave. Knowing how worried he was softened my feelings toward him. Every time he showed me this side of himself, I forgot why I hated him. “Where are you staying?”

“Via San Angelo, near the train station.”

“Cazzo, Thea, that’s one of the worst areas!”

This time, I failed to stop my eyes from rolling back in my head. “Do I look worried?” I reached into the voluminous handbag I’d found in a thrift store and showed him my gun. “See? Anyone tries to mug me and I guarantee they’ll regret it.”

His lips curved up in a faint smirk. “I doubt anyone would look at you twice in that…” He grimaced as he took in my dress andtights. I guessed the ‘old lady’ aesthetic wasn’t doing much for him.

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