Page 7 of Cruel Secrets

Mom stands up and moves into the kitchen, swiping the empty bottle off the counter and loading it into the top rack of the dishwasher. “One day, you’re going to be giving lectures constantly too. Bianca’s only eighteen months now, but she’s going to be a teenager just like you.”

“Not just like me.” I grab the baby monitor from the television stand, glancing down at the image of Bianca sleeping peacefully in her crib, her inky-black hair standing up in every direction.

Mom scoffs. “That little girl is just starting to talk, and she already sounds like a teenager. You wouldn’t believe the dirty look I got when I forgot to warm her applesauce earlier.”

Laughing, I set the monitor back down and walk Mom to the door. “Thanks again for watching her.”

Mom’s gaze flickers past me, landing on a picture of me and Zoe with Noah when we were little. “He came by. Wanted to talk to you about moving back to the family mansion. He’s asked me to move back.”

My spine stiffens as I stare at her. “Are you going to?”

“I’m considering it. Your brother wouldn’t ask me back unless there was something big happening. I heard about that mess with Aiden Lynde a few months ago.” She bites the inside of her cheek, worry creasing the corners of her eyes. “I think it might be a good thing for you to think about. You have Bianca now.”

“Mom, I’m not going to move back to the family house. I moved out when I had Bianca. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life trapped beneath Noah’s thumb, especially when I have a daughter. The benefits are good right now, but walking back into that house means that he has total control.”

“And what happens if someone comes for you?”

“The Lyndes don’t know that I’m his sister.” I lean against the door, holding it open as she grabs her purse and pulls on sandals with straps that climb up her calves.

There’s a lot the Lyndes don’t know about the Rinaldo organization. Their ignorance is going to be their downfall one of these days. But then again, they have secrets of their own too.

Royce taught me that. He was always good at keeping secrets until telling the truth benefitted him.

“One of these days they’re going to figure it out. Your name is only a name, but you and Noah share blood. That’s harder to hide.” Mom’s eyes water as she looks at me, putting her hand to my cheek. “I just want you to be safe and happy, Gia, and if Noah is going to be the one to keep you safe, then I think you should be staying with him.”

Sighing, I take my hair down from the bun, running my fingers through the strands at my temples to ease the headache forming there. “I know you think that, but a bit of distance is better. Noah will still protect me, but I’m not going to be running at his beck and call.”

Mom hauls her purse high on her shoulder. “I think I’m going to move back into the house. At least for the time being.”

“Please, just go to your place in Costa Rica if you want to be safe. Don’t move into that house. The first place the Lyndes are going to go is to the house.”

She purses her lips and for a moment, I’m sure she’s going to tell me to mind my own business. It’s a phrase I’ve heard plenty while growing up, and I know it’s one I’ll hear for as long as she’s alive.

Finally, Mom nods. “A trip to Costa Rica might be a good idea.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, hugging her tight before she leaves. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Gia. Stay safe, and you call me if there’s anything you need.”

Mom leaves and the moment she’s gone, I lock the door and slide the painting beside the door to the side, revealing the security panel Noah had installed when I first insisted on living alone.

I pull up the camera feed, watching Mom cross the parking lot and head down the street, off to catch the subway.

When I’m sure that she’s safe, I hide the system again and double-check the lock on the door before heading to Bianca’s room.

She’s standing up in her crib, her black curls sticking up on end. “Mama!”

When she smiles, the little dimples in her cheeks pop, making her look angelic. Her deep-emerald eyes make my heart melt as I lift her out of the crib and take her to the changing table.

“We’re going to have a good afternoon today, aren’t we?” I ask as I change her dirty diaper. “We’re going to go to the park and play on the swings. And then we’re going to have some ice cream.”

Bianca laughs as I tickle her stomach, her little feet flailing. “Buba!”

“Yes, we’re going to go get you a buba.” I slide her into a dusty-pink onesie, wrestling with her flailing limbs until she’s dressed and ready to get her bottle.

Balancing her on my hip, I head back down the hall before turning and checking the locks one last time.

No matter how many precautions I take, it will never be enough. Someone is out there, watching, waiting.

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