She lifts her chin, her posture shifting to one of defiance. But that chin lift, it triggers a memory. I see a flash of her as a young child in my mind. It’s not a still image I’m remembering from a photograph, but something buried much deeper that’s come to the surface. The four of us, playing tag outside, running through the vineyard, hiding in the vines, a warm breeze tossing our hair. Lili always wanted to be It, even though she was the slowest to find us all.
The accusatory edge to her voice is going to take some time to go away, I realize. It will, but first she has to accept that the story Sergio Bruno sold her was a complete fabrication.
“But even if that story about my parents dying in a fire is bullshit, I know Enzo Bellanti passed a few years ago, so I don’t have a father anyway,” Juliana says gruffly. She looks at me, Dante, Marco. “But your mother…our mother…is she…alive?”
The guarded but desperate hope in her voice crushes my soul.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “She died in a boating accident two decades ago. The same day, we were told, that our sister died. But you’re alive and well, and that’s…a gift.”
Juliana visibly slumps on the couch as she realizes she’s still an orphan.
“Mom loved you more than anything,” Marco blurts suddenly. “All of us.”
But his words seem to do little to perk her up.
“You’re positive the DNA test was accurate?” Dante interrupts. “Beyond any reasonable doubt?”
“She matched all three of us,” I tell him. “The margin of error is less than 0.05 percent. That margin goes down even further considering that we all share virtually the same genes.”
Marco sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “Jesus Christ! What the fuck did Dad do?”
Juliana leans forward on the couch, hugging herself tightly. She looks around the room assessing each person, and, if she’s anything like me, calculating how dangerous we are.
“Okay, so what happens next? What are you going to do with me now?” she asks.
“What are we going to do with you now?” Frankie repeats incredulously. “You’re ourfamily. The only thing to do is to get you acclimated to your new…circumstances, I guess, and help you settle into things. I’m sure it won’t be easy, and I know you’ve lost a lot of years, but when you’re ready, we can all move forward. Together.”
Juliana swallows hard.
“I just…I’m so confused,” she says. “The day of the boat accident, somebody killed our mother, so that part is real, but…but what happened to me? Who took me? And why? How did Sergio end up fostering me? And why would he raise me as a Bruno? He told me formyentire lifethat my parents were dead because of your family.Myfamily.” She looks around again and takes a deep, shuddering breath. “What was her name? Our mom?”
“Gabriella,” Dante says softly. “Gabriella Camille.”
“What about Enzo? Our father. Was he…as bad as Sergio says?” she asks hesitantly.
Dante’s brow furrows. “He was…a very focused man. Focused on power. On the Life. Hisfamiglia. His actual family at home, though…not so much. None of us had a great relationship with him. I’m sure, over time, Marco and Armani and I can tell you everything.”
“I’d like that,” Juliana says, her voice barely a whisper. When she looks up again, her eyes are glittering with tears that she’s too stubborn to let fall. “Everything I thought I knew about myself is a lie. I have no idea who I am. But that’s something I need to figure out.”
“You will, Jules,” Candi says, speaking up for the first time. “Besides, you’ve always known exactly who you are, and it’s got nothing to do with Sergio Bruno. You’re strong, you’re fearless, you’re resilient and whip smart. You love intimidating men and…and blowing money on designer shoes and getting into mischief. That’s all stillyou. Maybe you just need to take some time to sort out the real you from the version of yourself that felt beholden to him.”
Juliana nods. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”
Some of the tension leaves the room. Even my brothers seem more relaxed now that Candi has, at least partially, diffused the existential crisis that Juliana is going through.
Marco and Karina ask Juliana a few more questions, and soon enough, a conversation starts. Everyone is still proceeding with caution, but they’re getting closer, asking bigger questions. Jesus, it’s going to take months if not years for us to get to know each other. Juliana was a child the last time she saw any of us. We’ve lived half a lifetime since then.
The talk starts to lull, and Juliana sighs to herself and then looks around at everyone. I don’t need to be a professional interrogator to read the fury in her eyes.
“I’m not going back,” she says. “Not to my unc—to Sergio, and not to my fiancé, either. At least, not until I figure out how I’m going to play this thing. I mean, I’m supposed to marry Orloff and play mafia wife, but I have no fucking clue what I want to do with my life now.”
“You’ll need to figure out your next move soon,” I warn her. “I’m sure Bruno and Orloff are already looking for you. We can keep you safe here for a few days, but it’s only a matter of time before they track you down. Better to preemptively take control of—”
“Control of the narrative,” Juliana says, her words blending with mine. “You’re right. I can’t let them start coming up with their own theories. I have to spin this to my advantage. But I need to stay away from Orloff. He’ll see right through me if I try to lie. He’ll know something’s off. And then I’ll be dead.”
“No. We won’t let that happen,” I tell her firmly.
“Good.” She looks over at Candi. “Remember that girl time you offered me earlier? Does the offer still stand?”
