Adriano Bruno Marconi - cousin of the bride.
I’m numb.
Any and every emotion I could have ever felt has been sucked from me thanks to the letters and the pictures.
“They did it?” I whisper. “They’re behind all of it?”
No. It can’t be them.
They had been attacked too.
It doesn’t make sense.
They couldn’t have done it.
They are family.
They are second fathers to me.
They looked out for me after Dad died.
I don’t believe it.
I won’t believe it.
Fumbling for my phone, I dial Dominic. It feels like eternity passes between rings.
I snatch up the letters and stumble around Dad’s desk toward the closet to grab my coat.
He doesn’t answer.
It goes to voicemail.
“Dominic, it's me.” I open the closet door and grab my coat. “I need you to come to my house right now. I - I think I know who's behind this, but I don’t know…
A sharp pain cracks through the back of my skull.
The phone slips from my hand. I try to grab it, but my vision is already blurring.
My ears ring and my body slumps forward into someone’s arms.
They pick me up and carry me.
I try to get a look at their face, but darkness swallows me before I can get a glimpse.
Chapter fifty-three
Farfalla.I hear my father’s voice through the darkness. I don’t know if he’s calling me to the other side or if I’m hallucinating.Wake up. You are a Capuano and Capuanos don’t quit. Wake up!
The tone shifts.
It morphs into a feminine voice that quivers at the edges. “Cipi, wake up.”
I know that voice.
A sob catches in her throat. “Cipi, wake up.” Her nails dig into my shoulder. “Come on, please.”
I blink against the darkness. My head pounds as if someone took a hammer to the inside of my skull. I chide myself for not being more vigilant in my surroundings. The top of my scalp scrapes against something rough like brick, and the cold floor presses into my back.
