“Well, I got to say, Nico,” Luciano drawled. “Your wedding day went even better than mine.”
“Fuck off,” I muttered. “Asshole.”
“Your wife assigned that name to you,” Luca mumbled, rubbing his cheek. “Jesus, Nico. Who in the fuck did you marry?”
“Your sister,” I told him.
The silence followed, everyone debating whether I was joking or not.
“I’m not sure if I should laugh or not,” Vasili ended up breaking the silence. “Was it a joke or not? Or is it an inside joke?”
“It’s not a joke,” I answered, locking eyes with Cassio and Luca. Their eyes, so similar in color, just regarded me with leery calmness.
“Tell me you are joking,” Cassio’s voice sounded strained.
“I’m not.”
Another heartbeat of silence.
“Her mother is not our mother,” Luca justified, the wheels turning in his head. “We would fucking know. And she is not Benito’s…” His voice trailed off, realization hitting him. “No fucking way.” Luca held my gaze as the puzzle came into place. “No fucking way,” he hissed, shaking his head. “He didn’t look at her as his daughter. If she was his daughter, it wouldn’t have mattered that you married her. He’d have dragged her out of here. His men would have started a war right here. We’d be having a blood bath.”
“Nico, explain,” Cassio growled. He was pissed. I didn’t blame him. Shit, maybe today would turn into a bloody wedding after all, and Bianca would get her wish. She’d be a widow before I even got a taste of her.
“Damn it, Nico,” Cassio roared when I didn’t answer. “What the fuck? Explain!”
“I’ll start with this,” I told him in a cold voice. “You try to take her, and we’ll have a war.” Our eyes locked, the words I had just spoken looming over. Nobody dared to chime in, not even Sasha with his dumb comments. “She is mine, Cassio. My wife. And I intend to keep her as my wife.”
“She’s my sister,” Cassio said, pissed off.
“That you didn’t know about,” I reminded him.
“Just fucking explain,” Luca interrupted the anger brewing. “The suspense is killing me.”
“Bianca’s mother got wrapped up with Benito twenty-six years ago,” I told them both, while everyone listened in suspense like it was some damn soap opera. “She was engaged to be married to someone else. Obviously, she didn’t marry him. She had a baby not long after and left the baby with her ex-fiancé and her mother. Somehow Benito believed it was her ex-boyfriend’s baby. She rarely came around. That pretty much sums it up.”
“That can’t be right,” Alexei chimed in, a frown on his tattooed face. It didn’t surprise me to see Bianca gawking at the dude, though it made me jealous. The ink covering his skin always drew stares. “Those two seemed close. Like they were in sync.”
“My sources tell me she visited her daughter less than a handful of times since she was born,” I told him.
“What makes you think her father is not her ex-fiancé?” Cassio asked. “Does her birth certificate indicate Benito as the father?”
This was the kicker. If Bianca wouldn’t have gotten sick as a child, nobody would have ever known.
“No, Benito isn’t listed as a father. Ten years ago, Bianca got sick and needed a blood transfusion. She is AB negative,” I explained. “Neither her mother nor the father listed on her birth certificate are that blood type.”
“Benito is that blood type,” Cassio rasped. “So am I.”
I nodded.
“Well, fuck me,” Luca muttered. “I’m guessing she got the transfusion. Did Benito give it to her?”
“Not directly. Her mother bribed a group of doctors to falsify that she herself needed a transfusion. Benito donated blood for his favorite mistress and Sofia ensured her daughter got the needed blood.”
When Nicoletta was brutally murdered, I started digging through everything and anything. I used my vast resources to look into every single person Benito had contact with, including his mistresses. It was how I found out about Bianca and started planning my revenge, but I kept those words for myself.
“Does Bianca know?” Cassio glanced towards the house where the women sat on the patio. My mother, Isabella, Grace, and Ella were laughing at something Bianca was telling them, while the kids ran around the yard. It pleased me to see my mother sitting next to Bianca, smiling and somewhat sober. She was in better condition today than I’ve seen her in a very long time.
“I don’t think so,” I told him. Like a magnet, my eyes went back to Bianca and found her watching me. The moment our eyes met, she narrowed her eyes, then turned her head. Yes, my wife and I would be a volcano together.