Page 13 of Dishonorable


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He spoke the words quickly, as if determined not to let them affect him.

“She wasn’t supposed to be there,” I said. I’d read that. That his mother had come home with a headache and had gone to lie down. His father hadn’t known that.

“She was. That’s all that matters. And if she wasn’t, it would have killed her to know he destroyed her legacy. So one way or another, she was finished.”

He took a breath and didn’t look at me anymore.

“And the bastard couldn’t even cover his tracks. Insurance didn’t pay him a cent in the end, and he still died.”

“Why did he owe Grandfather money? He runs the family business, why would he—”

“Truth, Sofia. Can you stand it?”

“Raphael—”

“Wondering why your grandfather agreed so easily to this? To handing you over to me?”

Could I take this truth?

“I have proof of his deal with my father, for one thing. He’d go to prison if it got into the wrong hands. He’d lose everything, and so would you.”

God. This couldn’t be true. My grandfather wasn’t evil.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Facts are facts.”

“Guardia Winery is a legitimate business. A successful one.”

“Sure, he hides behind the legitimate business. Yes.”

“Raphael…”

The car came to a stop. Raphael opened his door and got out. My brain whirled with Raphael’s ‘facts,’ and it took me a minute to open mine. I climbed out and just stared at the grand estate, then took in the house, part of which was black from the fire.

It was a huge, two-story building, the stone and color of which fit perfectly into the Tuscan countryside. The front doors were recessed behind three arches, which were duplicated on the second floor. Large windows with intricate ironwork stood open on both floors, and I wondered if the house was air-conditioned.

Raphael went to greet the older woman who’d walked out of the house with a huge smile on her face, wiping her hands on her apron. I watched as they hugged, watched her rub his back then stand holding his hands and looking him over. She wiped her eyes and released him. When Raphael turned toward me, I didn’t miss the look of tenderness on his face, even if it did disappear when he laid his eyes on me.

Then someone else walked out of the house. I did a double take and glanced at Raphael. I knew they were twins, but to see them in person, it was weird. Amazing, that nature could duplicate life so flawlessly. Damon stood as tall as Raphael, his hair just as dark, his build big and powerful. The only difference between them was in the eyes. Damon’s seemed kinder.

He greeted his brother with a handshake, and I could see from the expressions on both their faces that their relationship was strained.

Damon looked at me and smiled. The brothers approached together. Watching them was almost surreal.

“You must be Sofia.”

His voice was as deep as Raphael’s but had a different tone altogether. I wondered if this was how Raphael would sound if he hadn’t spent the last several years of his life behind bars. If circumstances had turned out differently for him.

“I’m Damon Amado, Raphael’s brother. Welcome to Italy.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, Damon.”

“Damon is the slightly nicer version of me.”

Raphael came to stand beside me and wrapped a hand territorially around the back of my neck while he held his brother’s gaze.

“Holier than thou and all that.”

Damon didn’t reply to his brother’s jab but shifted his gaze to me.

“Raphael’s been very secretive about you.”

I knew from the look in his eyes, he knew this was no normal romance. Not a romance at all, actually.

“I’m looking forward to getting to know you,” Damon added.

Raphael snorted. “Amazing how two people sharing a womb can be so different, isn’t it?” he asked of no one in particular.

Damon continued, taking me from Raphael and leading me toward the house.

“You will always have a friend in me, Sofia,” he said quietly.

I wasn’t sure if I was the only one meant to hear it, but the way he said it, it made my eyes mist.

“What did I say? Holier than thou,” Raphael grumbled, knocking Damon’s shoulder with his as he passed.

“This is Maria, she’s the cook and pretty much manages everything having to do with the house,” Damon said, introducing me to the older woman. “She’s been with our family for as long as I can remember.”

That’s why there was the obvious bond between her and Raphael.

She gave me a courteous smile and said something in Italian.

“Only speaks Italian, though.”

Raphael took me from his brother. I felt like a yo-yo.

“I studied a little Italian.” I said. Freeing myself from Raphael, I greeted the woman with my passable Italian, which I could see from the look on her face she appreciated.

“I’ll take you inside. Maria made lunch, so you’ll have to wait to get settled.”

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