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He was sure of it.
She stood up, A on her chest poking little red dots through the tank that fell past her thighs. They kissed at the door, she went right, he went left. He followed Frankie at a distance, waiting until she’d arrived safely inside Lucia’s—as safe as she could, considering where’d she gone—before going to his bike. Then he rode back to his club.
Inside Crazy A would be waiting to tell him how he planned to kill the woman he’d just branded. With Emilio dead, the Wolves pointed out that the Pavoni throne was back in view. Anteros should have cared. He should have been inside, planning with the Wolves, and seeing what new information Levi had for him.
He noticed he’d been saying that a lot—should.
Anteros had never been a man to shackle himself to shoulds. What he wanted to do was destroy Lucia, raze her empire, and claim Frankie. He was fucking tired of shoulds getting in the way. While Anteros was sitting on his bike, unable to reconcile the shoulds and the wants inside himself, he slid his hand into his jean pocket. He hit scratchy paper.
It was the letter Frankie had given him, the one she’d taken from Lucia—he’d completely forgotten about it. Anteros uncurled his palm and studied the piece of paper. It was a letter in Italian.
* * *
Dearest Lucia,
* * *
My love, you’ve given me the only joy I’ve ever known in this world. I was too harsh with you before, and I hope you will forgive me for my passion. This child ruins nothing, but can give us everything we never dared to hope for. The minute I can get away I’ll come to you in Venice. We’ll figure out a way to keep our child safe, and then we’ll be together. I’ll bring the pendant because even if fate decided against us, you should wear it as all the true matriarchs before you have.
* * *
I love you, my heart.
* * *
Your Lucio
* * *
Anteros read and reread the letter. Even when snow started falling, he stayed in the parking lot reading. His brain told him it had to be wrong, but the lead in his gut spoke the truth. He gripped the page until it nearly tore in two, unbelieving as memories of the first day he met Lucio flooded his brain and puzzle pieces fell into place.
Twenty years ago, almost twenty-one, Anteros had followed Lucio, preparing to pick his pocket. He had been so young, the memories got warped, but one thing was clear: a child had been born.
Years later, Anteros acquired Sofia De Luca’s journal. She’d written in her journal about Lucio and Lucia, speaking of a child born out of wedlock. Anteros had ripped the page out to use as leverage. Sofia never said whose child it was, and Anteros had always assumed it was a De Luca bastard.
Now the truth was blinding.
Anteros had been present the day Frankie was born. She was the child of Lucia and Lucio Pavoni, daughter of brother and sister.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Frankie could never know the truth.
Ten
Light streamed into the church, crisscrossing over Anteros’s naked back. Something was telling us we shouldn’t be together. First I was his slave and he my captor, and now I was walking across enemy lines to sleep with him. Some people were made to be together, the stars aligned for them. Other times they imploded, creating a black hole. Still, even if we were going to destroy everything, I wanted to be with him during the ruination.
I tore my gaze away and forced myself to look at the old carpet. I had come so close to spilling the beans, to telling Anteros about Nikolai, but as I formed the words, I didn’t know how to do that without giving away Levi. I ju
st couldn’t do that to Gabby.
The really fucked up thing? I would have told him everything if only he could assure me we would implode together. I just wanted to be certain I wouldn’t be left alone in the ashes, but he couldn’t give me that. His initial bled through the shirt he’d given me, a scarlet A forming on my chest. How could I go back to Lucia’s after everything?
But I had nowhere else to go.
“Mio cuore.” Anteros’s pointer finger rested beneath my chin, lifting it so I had to stare into his eyes. “What are you thinking?” That I’m torn, lost, living in Limbo. I don’t belong with you, where your Wolves will tear me apart. I definitely don’t belong where Lucia is tearing me apart.
“Nothing,” I said, pulling my chin back. “It’s nothing.” He narrowed his eyes, indicating he didn’t quite believe me, but stood back up anyway.
