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“Are you aware of Sofia De Luca?” she asked.
“Not really,” I lied.
“My daughter, your mother, got pregnant around the time Sofia was enthralling Alessio and Emilio. When Alessio and Emilio killed each other over her, the Pavoni line ended, or so it was thought.” I fought to keep my face blank. I’d read the journal—Sofia hadn’t enthralled anyone.
Lucia took a bite of her cookie and continued. “Lucio was supposed to keep you secret, but he reneged and the rumor got started. That’s all ancient history anyway. My brother has been dealt with.” I thought Lucio was sick, but that was the second time she’d made it sound otherwise.
“And Isabella?” I hedged, testing out the name she’d used. “Isabella was my real mother? The one who died when I was young? Red hair, green eyes?” I wanted to be very specific, to make sure she couldn’t backtrack on the lie.
“Yes,” Lucia said, dipping another thin cookie in a porcelain cup. None of it really made sense. Why would they keep me secret if they wanted to keep the Pavoni line going? I’d seen the photos—why had Papa met with Lucio? But I’d known she was lying from the minute she’d called mom Isabella, so I just held the oily, crumbly cookie and let her talk. Her lies were letting me know more than the truth.
There was something she didn’t want me to know, something about my family that she desperately wanted to keep hidden. She was constructing a whole web of lies around it, and the more she tried to hide it, the more tangled it got.
“I hope this calms some of your questions, and you can rest easy.” She reached out, placing her palm over mine.
I smiled, the stretch hurting my face. “It does.” She showed me out of her room and I made certain to keep my back hidden so she couldn’t see the phone. When she shut the door I stared at the way the faint eggshell-colored sheen caught the light. This was the topmost floor and it was all ivory and gold accents, not even a speck of dust on the crown molding. All the light was natural, spilling in from oversized windows that grew from the floor to the ceiling and gave way to brilliant views of Manhattan.
It was such a stark contrast to the basement, but in a way, it was exactly the same.
I headed toward my room, but at the last instant, veered into Gabby’s. Earlier that morning I’d snuck down to Papa’s cell; I hated it down there, especially after being imprisoned behind my very own curtain, but I was hoping he could repair some of the light bulbs Lucia kept smashing. Living as a princess in this palace of lies was driving me to madness. It was empty, though, the only sign he’d been there the puddle of piss in the corner.
With Lucia refusing to tell me anything and Papa MIA, I hoped Gabby might give me something. Somehow we were tied together—my family, her mom; I didn’t know how yet, but I was determined to find out. Gabby never liked to talk about it, but she was wrapped up in this shit too.
I pushed the door open gently, calling her name. It was empty. Warm sunlight streamed in through sheer ivory curtains. Feeling defeated, I walked to her bed and sat down. Minutes passed and sunlight swam across the floor in patterns. I wasn’t sure where Gabby was, but her room was without cameras. It was smaller but cozier, and her bed wasn’t as lumpy as mine. The air felt lighter too, but that was probably just in my head.
After a few minutes, I pulled out my phone. The inbox was still empty, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I typed out the words I miss you, but then deleted them just as I finished. I wanted Anteros to miss me first. I wanted to know he missed me as much as I missed him. Two days without so much as a Hey after the word
s he’d spoken to me, the way he’d made me come—I mean, what the fuck? What was that?
At the same time, it wasn’t fair to want any of that after lying.
I thought about what I’d overheard with Nikolai and Lucia, and I wondered if I should just finally come clean to Anteros. I had no idea what they’d meant, but it had sounded like they were planning something. Whatever it was put a deep weight in my chest.
I started typing again, warning him of something I didn’t fully understand. My hand hovered over the send button just as the door flung open. Gabby rushed into the room and sat on the bed, sobbing. I quickly shoved my phone into my pocket.
“What happened?” I tried to pull her into a hug but she shrugged me off. “Gabby, what—” I was cut off by the telltale click-clack of shoes echoing in the hallway. A few moments later, Lucia was in the doorway.
“Gabriella,” Lucia said sharply and Gabby lifted her head. “It’s time you ended this foolish relationship with that man Levi.” Gabby started bawling again and Lucia came to her feet.
“What the fuck happened?” I asked.
“We wouldn’t want you to end up like your mother.” Lucia put a manicured nail to Gabby’s cheek, gently running it down to her chin. “Such a tragic tale, leaving you motherless because she couldn’t keep her legs together.” I gasped, shocked she’d say such a terrible thing. Gabby hiccupped, wiping snot from her nose.
“How can you even say that?” I blurted.
“We’ll find you a good De Luca husband,” Lucia continued as if I wasn’t there.
“You don’t own us, Lucia,” I said. “We can leave whenever we want. Gabby can date whoever she wants.”
Lucia’s nail at Gabby’s chin was a polished dagger. “You can, but here you’re under my protection. Out there, it’s much less certain.”
“She’s right,” Gabby sighed. “Mother destroyed us. She made the last Pavonis kill each other.”
“She’s not right!” I stood from the bed. “Emilio was a fucking rapist.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say about a deceased Pavoni, about my nephew.” Fuck your nephew, was what I wanted to say, but I’d already said too much. I’d let my emotions get the better of me—again. I bit my tongue as Lucia slowly pulled her finger from Gabby’s chin.
“I’ll find you someone handsome and kind, Gabriella.”
