Page 58 of Conall's Reign

“About what?” My voice dropped, and my patience wore thin. “What kind of information? That slimy bastard.” Her words gradually seeped into my consciousness. Cosimo had been trying to extract information from her for years? My mind raced with possibilities.

“About Fausto,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know something regarding the night he died.”

The room felt as if it were closing in on us. My pulse throbbed in my ears, drowning out the soft sound of Theodosia popping another bubble. “You were there,” I said slowly, piecing together the connections. “The night Fausto was killed.”

Francesca nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, but her shoulders squared. “I was there,” she said. “And I’m the reason he’s dead.”

Her confession struck me like a freight train, leaving me reeling. My grip tightened on her hand as my mind raced. “Tell me everything,” I said, my voice firm as I struggled to stay calm. No more secrets.”

The room was so silent that I could hear Francesca’s unsteady breathing. Her hand trembled, and I tightened my grip, anchoring her to me—or perhaps anchoring myself to her. The weight of her confession pressed heavily on my chest, but it wasn’t anger that I felt. It was something else, something darker and more dangerous. I suspected there was a reason why Fausto was dead, and I suddenly regretted that I couldn’t bring him back to life and kill him all over again.

“I need you to tell me every detail,” I said, my voice calm and steady. “Leave nothing out.”

Francesca nodded slowly, her fingers clenched around mine. “I didn’t plan for any of it to happen,” she began, her voice thick with emotion. “That night, I just wanted to escape for a while. I went dancing, and Fausto noticed me at the bar. It wasn’t a good choice, but I left the club with him. I didn’t know his name. If I had, I wouldn’t have gone.”

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay calm even as my fury brewed. Francesca’s voice trembled, but Theodosia intervened.

“He stopped the car in a shitty neighborhood,” Theo said bluntly, her sharp gaze locking onto mine. “Tried to act like she owed him something. When she tried to tell him no, he got violent. He knew she was part of the Santellifamiglia. He’d trapped her on purpose.”

Francesca nodded, swallowing hard. “I had no other choice.”

My pulse roared in my ears, yet I remained silent, allowing her to continue. Her gaze flickered to Theo and then returned to me, and her lips trembled as she spoke.

“I didn’t think—I just reacted. There was a knife in my purse. I grabbed it and swung. I didn’t even realize I’d... hit him until he let go of me and fell back. There was so much blood.” Her voice broke, and tears streamed down her face.

“And then what?” I pressed, my voice sharper than intended. “What did you do next?”

“I called Theo,” Francesca whispered, her eyes pleading for understanding. “I didn’t know what else to do. I was terrified.”

Theodosia leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest, popping another bubble. “She called me, and we handled it. It was that simple. I wasn’t about to let that scumbag ruin her life. So yes, we cleaned up the mess. We ditched the car, torched it, and made sure no one could trace it back to us. Fuck that guy.” She practically spat the words at me.

I ran a hand through my hair as the weight of their words settled over me. My mind raced, connecting dots and forming questions I wasn’t sure I wanted answers to. “The Olivetos never suspected?”

Theo snorted. “They had their suspicions, sure, but without a body or weapon, they had nothing to go on. They attributed it to one of Fausto’s enemies taking him out. And trust me, that bastard had plenty. Cosimo was suspicious, though. He began digging and found someone who knew that Francesca had been at the same club as his brother. Cosimo asked her a couple of times about it, but we’d prepared for that. There was nothing to connect them, so it was deny, deny, deny.” She grinned at me, and I thought it was a shame she wasn’t part of the mafia. If anyone was born for it, she was.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” I asked, my voice barely rising above a whisper as I cupped one of Francesca’s cheeks. “Your brothers? Me?”

She closed her eyes as fresh tears spilled over. “Because I was ashamed and scared. I didn’t want anyone to see me differently, and I didn’t want anyone to go to war with the Olivetos because of it.”

“Francesca,” I said firmly, forcing her to meet my gaze. “You don’t have to carry this burden alone anymore. Do you hear me? Whatever happens, we face it together. I mean,we. All our problems are faced together.” I had no intention of excluding the others from this. If I were to take out Cosimo, I’d do it with the full weight of the Commission.

Theo cleared her throat, drawing our attention. “That’s sweet, but this is a serious problem.”

“What sort of problem?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Cosimo sniffing around,” Theo said, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “If he connects the dots back to Francesca…”

“He won’t,” I interrupted, my tone frosty and determined. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Theo raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Cosimo’s many things, but he’s not stupid. What he’s been doing makes me think he’s acting in his own interests for one reason alone: to find his brother’s killer.” She poked a finger in my direction. “That’s the only reason I agreed to tell you. If his entire play to get into your boy gang has been about his brother’s death… well…” She let that linger for a moment. The implications were stunning.

“I don’t care how smart he is,” I snapped. “If he comes for Francesca, I’ll handle him.

Francesca tightened her grip on my hand, her eyes wide with worry. “Conall, please. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

I kissed her forehead, letting my lips linger for a moment. “I’d walk through hell for you, Francesca. Never doubt that.”

Theo stood, brushing off imaginary dust from her pants. “Well, this has been fun, but I have things to do. If Cosimo is poking around, we need to stay ahead of him.”

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