Page 54 of Enemies in Ruin

“I can’t.” I shake my head.

“What?”

“I can’t be with Luca. Not for you, not for this family, not for any reason.”

Father half-rises from behind his desk, then sits back down with a nervous expression when Baccio growls. “Explain yourself. And contain that animal.”

I stroke Baccio’s head. “He killed Francis!”

“Carina…” Father rubs his forehead with both hands, everything about him weary suddenly.

Tired, but not surprised.

“You knew,” I whisper, shaking my head.

He raises a blank gaze to mine. “Some gambles don’t have the payoffs one expects them to.”

I lift my chin. “Francis was the price.”

His shoulder lifts in a shrug. “Vitto and I got drunk one night at Bastoni e Pietro. There was this whole thing with the Romanovs and the Marzanos. The Romanov boy had already done his time in the Pits. I bet Vitto that Francis could best Luca in the Pits.”

“But Luca was so much bigger! He was substantially older—”

“I needed the money. Vitto agreed to the gamble.”

My fingers are tight in Baccio’s fur again, but this time he merely turns his head and licks my hand, seeming to understand that he’s my anchor in this moment. “How could you? How could a father do that to his child?” After what he’s been pushing me to do with Luca, I shouldn’t be surprised. And yet, I am.

He’s calm when he explains that it was a worthwhile gamble, that the Marzanos had one son, and he had two. “I could have taken away their only heir in a single night.”

I open my mouth to reply when two of his men reappear, diverting his attention. It’s probably a good thing. I’m not sure what I would have said, but I don’t think it would’ve been polite or respectful.

With a flick of his wrist, Father dismisses me and everything I feel, just as he’s done my entire life. I set my jaw and leave, Baccio following with a click of nails against the floor.

I walk to my old room, fury building with every step. I hold it in, though, until I close the door behind me with a soft, controlled snap. Only then do I reach for my hair and pull. Only then do I shove at a stupid-looking fake pedestal, letting the vase it holds fall upon the floor and shatter. Only then do I sink to the floor and dissolve into the tears I’ve been holding back.

Luca had to have known about my father’s involvement. Why didn’t he tell me?

Would I have listened to him? Believed him? I was done with the conversation there at the safe house by the time his police friends arrived.

A soft tap comes at the door. “Miss Carina? Everything okay?”

It’s the housekeeper.

“Go away!” I scream the words, startling Baccio before I’m able to grab hold of my tenuous control and pull it tightly around myself. Rushing to the door, I throw it open. “Wait! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scream at you.”

The housekeeper nods stiffly and walks away, and I close the door again, returning to stand at my vanity and stare at my reflection. I don’t recognize the woman looking back at me. Something has blossomed inside me and carved out a space for itself in the hollows of my eyes, but it’s not pretty or flowery. It’s a thorny vine, twisting itself around everything soft and vital.

It smothers my heart with every beat. Every lie and betrayal and manipulation is a barb threatening to spill my blood.

I know now, looking at myself in the mirror: whatever darkness lies inside of Luca that allowed him to snuff out Francis’s life… It’s in me, too. It’s a hunger. A need for vengeance.

And I can no longer pretend it doesn’t exist.

I need to think, to process, and so I do what I always do. I dig out the leather-bound volume from the bag at the foot of my bed, uncap a pen, and begin to write.

Chapter 21

Luca

---