Page 108 of SINS & Riley
She sips, and continues. “And that apparently your mystery man would do anything for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but he assured me you were taken care of.”
I think it over for a second, and realize it’s true. I was taken care of.
Kennedy pushes a bite of food around her plate, her voice softening as she lifts her gaze. “Are you happy?”
And for the first time in a long time, the truth slips out so fast it stuns me. “Yes.”
…Maybe.
I mean, I’m still bruised from how Zver and I left things. But I’ve got a pretty good idea how to fix that.
“Are you?” I ask in return, suddenly terrified of her answer.
Her whole face breaks into the biggest grin, wide enough to split the world in two. “So happy I feel like I’m gonna burst. Enzo and I are officially Mom and Dad to Sofie and Lili.”
“The adoption went through?”
She nods, beaming. “Enzo calls them diavoletta and angioletta.”
Little devil and little angel. He might be Satan incarnate, but credit where credit’s due—that’s freaking adorable.
“When?”
She says it gently, but guilt claws from all sides.“A few months back.”
My sister adopted two beautiful girls—I’ve officially been an aunt this whole time—and I wasn’t fucking there.
I could drown her in a million excuses. How I was attacked on her wedding night. Kidnapped. Sold to the highest bidder. Shackled to a psychopath.
The one I might actually be falling for.
And lest I forget, the same one who recently ditched me.
Sure, for a glorious life in the north of Italy, but still.
I don’t dump that heaping pile all over our beautiful day.
I just speak the words from the only place that matters—my heart. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
She opens the locket around her neck. “You were there Riles. You just didn’t know it.”
Inside is a photo of the two of us—young and sweet, hair wild and unbrushed, candy canes clutched in sticky toddler hands.
My favorite picture. From the Christmas before Da passed away.
Da.
A flurry of sadness and rage detonates inside me, so fast, so vicious…I have to jam a spoonful of honey-drizzled ricotta in my mouth to muffle the words.
How could you marry the man who killed our Da?
I choke it down, swallowing every feeling that isn’t love for my sister.
She’s married to him.
She’s carrying his child.
And come hell or high water, that child will only ever know love.
