“That one,” he rasps, “that one hurt, didn’t it?”
I look at him for a long moment. Then I nod once.
“Yes.”
The relief that flashes through him is astonishing. Fucking idiot.
“You should have chosen a different last bombshell,” I tell him. “That one buys Fran mercy. Not you.”
The smile slips.
And then I shoot him right between the eyes. The shot cracks through the warehouse and vanishes into the rafters. I lower the gun and stare at the body.
Federico Marino sold me his daughter while protecting the man who put a child in her. Cesaro stood at my shoulder while sleeping with Fran. And Elizabeth was ripped from her life to preserve a marriage that should have never existed in the first place.
I have never wanted to kill so many people at once.
“Clean this up,” I say.
Then I leave before the blood dries.
Fran is in the sitting room when I arrive.
I take her in for a moment. Her perfect posture. Pale blue dress. Hands folded in her lap like she’s posing for a painting of female composure while the world collapses around her. There’s tea beside her, untouched.
When I step into the room, she looks up. One glance at my face and all the color leaves hers.
“Lorenzo. What a surprise.”
I close the door behind me. “I know everything, Fran. Cesaro told me before I killed him.”
Her face crumbles. “He’s… he’s gone?
I walk farther into the room and stop opposite her chair.
“He’s dead.”
Her eyes close and grief etches her face.
When she opens them again, they’re glassy but steady. “Why?”
“He helped move Elizabeth.”
Something in her face tightens. “I know.”
“Yes,” I say. “I believe you did.”
The words land. She absorbs them without flinching.
“I wasn’t trying to kill her,” she says quietly.
“That does not improve the story.”
“No.” Her fingers tighten once over each other. “I suppose it doesn’t.”
I study her in silence. All this time, I thought Fran was one more piece in a political arrangement. Decorative. Useful. Passive, even. I was wrong. She’s something sadder than that.She’s a woman raised by monsters who learned how to survive by lying very still. And somewhere in the middle of all that, she made the mistake of falling in love with the wrong man. She should have known her father would latch on and use her pregnancy against her.
My voice comes out colder than I intend. “Is the baby his?”
