Of course, her birth certificate would list Franco as her father. “Photos can be faked.”
“True. I have the negatives as well.”
Right. The photos would be on film black then. Could negatives be faked? Surely not as easily as something digital. “Is that all?” Gia asked.
“No. Your aunt kept everything she had relating to her brother and you, but it’s all unofficial. A…um…DNA test would provide the most conclusive proof.”
Goddammit. This was actually happening. Gia sank to the floor. “I can’t do a DNA test. And you can’t send me any of those photos. Nothing about this can arrive at my house,” she said, in case the lawyer had found her address along with her number.
“I can text a picture through if you’re doubtful. Otherwise, I don’t know how to show you, except in person.”
And lead Salvator straight to this guy? Not a chance. “Meeting would be a terrible idea for you. I can’t get anywhere without…” Wait. Why was she telling him anything?
Ramirez proved unfazed by her implications, continuing on as normal. “Your aunt made me aware of the problem your family poses. She tried to contact you over the years.”
“Well, she failed.” Gia would obsess about Susan later.
“She may have failed to get ahold of you in her life, but she made it her dying wish to bring you home. All you need to do is finalize everything with me, and there’s a condo waiting. A business.”
What?This guy had a whole new life waiting for her?
She imagined leaving her family behind and staring over. God, she wanted nothing more than to escape. To clean her conscience of the crimes they committed, all the bad they brought to the world that she did nothing about.
Maybe she could even do something to stop them if she were free.
Gia’s stomach twisted, and she banged a fist against the counter. Stop the Balzano family? How? Rival gangs couldn’t even get the drop on her father. Who was she? No one but the weak daughter. She couldn’t even run away.
What would she do when she got sick on her own? What if she were in public when a migraine stole her consciousness? How could she take over her aunt’s business when she routinely couldn’t get out of bed?
Helplessness threatened to swallow Gia whole.
She pushed it away. “Do you know what happened to my mother?” she asked the lawyer.
He let out a sad little sound. “I don’t know exactly how she died, but she and Jeffrey were planning to take you away from Ashton Lakes to move in with Susan. This is all according to Susan herself. I never knew Jeffrey. Susan said Letti and Jeffrey never made it to Shearwater Landing, and when Susan looked into it, she found Letti’s obituary. Officially, Jeffrey is still missing, but well, it’s been twenty years.”
A wave of darkness washed over Gia, and she thought it might obliterate her.
“Text me the picture of them together. I’ll call you back.”Gia hung up and clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a choking sob, her chest hollowing out.
She didn’t doubt the lawyer anymore. Why would he make this up? Her father was the one with a motive to lie, and the means—not to mention mentality—to pull off a double murder and cover it up.
Franco had killed her mother, hadn’t he? And then he’d looked Gia in the face every day since and lied abouteverything.
Fuck this. Fuck staying here and tiptoeing around the man who’d killed someone he was supposed to love. It wasn’t as if Gia had never thought of running away before. She had, but she’d always been too scared.
Well, screw that.
Screw everyone who said she couldn’t survive on her own. She knew she wasn’t weak, even if her father never missed a chance to tell her otherwise. Even if she’d let his judgments seep under her skin, keeping her trapped and dependent.
This was her life, and she was going to start living it on her terms.
THREE
AURORA
Aurora Thornfield clenchedher fists on her lap in an effort not to scream. She stared down the long table at her mother, who sat silently beside her uncle as he spelled out Aurora’s fate.
“This alliance is vital for the coven, and Arthur Nightingale has been most accommodating. His son will be here in two weeks for a betrothal feast. The wedding—I think the Nightingales will agree—should be held shortly after. At the new moon.”
