“This isn’t about us, Lucia.” I whisper. “It’s about my father.”
Bruno clears his throat. “We protected you for as long as we could. You were a child when your father made his choices. You don’t know what really happened.”
“Don’t feed me that bullshit,” I spit. “I know exactly what happened. My father wrote me a note the night you killed him.” My gaze locks on Salvatore. “You were in love with Francesca. When she chose my father, you lost your goddam mind.”
Salvatore’s face hardens. “Your father didn’t deserve her. He got her killed. If she had chosen me, she’d still be alive.”
“You and my father were best friends!” I shout. “You held me when I buried him and the whole time you were planning this?”
“I did what I had to do,” he replies. “This isn’t personal.”
“Bullshit.” My eyes flick to the chessboard, resting on the queen piece mutilated by the blade.
Salvatore’s voice is low and dangerous. “You were never in control, Cipriani. Your father wasn’t a king. He was a liar and a thief who took everything from me.”
“He took a girl who didn’t even want you, and you’re punishing me for it?”
“You carry his name. His legacy. His throne.” Salvatore steps closer. “So yes. You get the consequences.”
I want to scream. Tears prick the back of my eyes, but I won’t give them the satisfaction. My hands itch to smash the chessboard into a thousand pieces.
“Why now?” I whisper.
Salvatore’s eyes narrow. “It was always going to come to this.”
He steps forward.
“Yes. I love Francesca. Yes, your father and I were best friends since we were boys. I thought nothing could break that until he met Francesca.
His eyes glaze over as if he’s lost in his own thoughts. “I knew her longer than he did. I’m not a Capuano. I’m a Moretti after all. My family had always been close with the Marconis. We attended church with them every Sunday. When Francesca was away at boarding school we wrote letters. When she came back home after graduation I thought for sure we’d be together until Vincenzo came into the picture.”
Disgust crosses his face. “He told me he liked her and I laughed. After all, the Capuanos and Marconis were sworn enemies. I thought she’d never give him the time of day. But she did. It was a year later that I found out they had been dating behind my back. Then Francesca confided in me that she was pregnant and they were going to run away together.”
Lucia glances at me, then back at Salvatore whose eyes have turned cold.
“I couldn’t let that happen.” He continues. “I couldn’t lose my Francesca. So I gave Aldo a little information, thinking he would stop her. I never thought he’d kill her.” Sadness flickers across his face for a moment and disappears.
“You let a woman come between you two,” I hiss.
“The love of my life died. After that, so did I, but your father never knew I loved her. We were both never the same. When Vincenzo made me consigliere, I swore I’d make him pay and I did.”
“You waited almost twenty years after Francesca’s death to kill him,” I cry.
Salvatore smirks. “Oh, Cipi, you know as well as I do that karma doesn’t have a time limit. We had to build trust so we would never be suspected. After all, anything worth doing right can take decades. But the end result is the sweetest.”
“You’re a traitor,” I spit. “How does Bruno fit into all this?”
He takes a step closer. “I’ve known Bruno for years. After Francesca died, we made a plan. Bruno changed his identity and I brought him on as head of security. But we needed others to carry out our vendetta. Madeline Toma was always money hungry. I paid her to bring over muffins and leave. When your father stepped outside to make a phone call, we injected only his muffin with cyanide. We knew he never ate when we were working, he’d eat later. So we ate our muffins in front of him so he wouldn’t suspect a thing.”
Rage fills me and I want to kill him.
Lucia’s voice breaks the silence. She glares at Bruno. “How could you, Bruno?”
He shrugs. “My name isn’t Bruno De Luca, Lucia. It’s Adriano Bruno Marconi. I’m a Marconi. Francesca was my cousin. My favorite cousin. Vincenzo should’ve left her alone but instead he caused her death. That wasn’t all he took.” He extends his arms out, gesturing to the space around us. “This factory used to be ours. Marconi territory. Until your father slaughtered my family in one night and then claimed our land for himself.”
“You survived the massacre?” Lucia gasps.
“Yes. I was one of the only ones. I lost everything and I swore I’d take it back.”
