Page 48 of By Fate I Conquer (Sins of the Fathers 4)

“Don’t try to find the photo. I don’t want you to feel bad because of me.”

“But you want Cressida to feel bad?”

“I’m a very bad man, Greta. Do not mistake me for anything else.”

“I know what you are. I’ve grown up among bad men.”

“And yet you turned out like this.”

My brows snapped together. So many people in my life thought I was good but there was dark inside of me too. “Some might not see me in such a positive light considering I’m turning you into a cheater.”

“You’re not turning me into anything. First of all, I can’t cheat on someone I’m not in a relationship with. Cressida and I are nothing. And I’ve been with other women before you, so if anything, one of them first turned me into a cheater.”

“So I’m one of many.”

Amo looked as if I’d said something outrageous when I’d really just based my words on the facts that he’d given me. His fingers against my cheeks tightened. “Don’t you ever dare thinking this. You are everything.”

“How can I be everything if you still need other women?”

“I don’t.”

I searched his eyes. “I can’t ask you to stop being with other women. It’s not my place. Because I can’t give you what you’d give up.”

“You can ask anything of me, Greta, and I’d give it to you.”

Ask him not to marry Cressida.

To what avail?

I could not take her place. I belonged in Las Vegas. I didn’t want to be a Capo’s wife. I wanted to live in the shadows not as the main attraction of the mafia world.

The door swung open and Amo dropped his hand and took a step back. It was Marcella and her eyes narrowed. “We need to return.” Her voice was hard.

I nodded, because she was right. It was a good thing that she’d burst in when she had because I had been on the verge of asking something of Amo I shouldn’t.

She walked past me and grabbed a jar with olives, a ciabatta and the oil. Together we returned to the dining room.

When I sank down beside Fabiano, he leaned over. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t dare look at Amo again all evening. I was at a complete loss at what to do.

I couldn’t think straight after the kisses Greta and I had shared. She’d left without looking at me again. It was the worst torture, but I knew why she did it. Greta was too fucking good. She didn’t want me to do something stupid.

After dinner, Dad stalked into his office, pissed. I went after him but fingers clamped down on my arm. I stopped and glared down at my sister.

“Sleep over it.”

“Sleep over what?”

“Do you want war? Is it worth it?”

I leaned down, bringing our faces closer together. “Was Maddox worth it?”

Marcella’s expression became pained. “Amo, this is different.”

I shook her grip off. “Will you have my back?”

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