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I widened my eyes. “What does Pa—” I nearly said Papa but then thought better of it, afraid Lucia would think I still harbored sentiment for my old life. “What does Antonio have to do with it?” Lucia shook her head like I was foolish for asking then turned from the window and walked back to me.
“When Antonio discovered the truth of your birth father he set up a meet between Lucio, your guardian, and you. It was all a ruse to blackmail Lucio with photos of you and him together. Of course that didn’t work, but discovering I’d kept you alive made him…angry.” She touched her cheek as if recalling the memory. “Wh
en I confirmed it, I thought I would lose you for good.” Lucia placed her hand on my cheek and I dug my fingernails into my palm, fighting the urge to jerk my head away. I looked to the right of her head, close so she would think I was still making eye contact, but far away enough that I could stomach her touch. It was still early in the morning and as the winter sun slowly rose, it illuminated her perfect ringlets like pieces of molten silver.
She continued. “I didn’t hear anything for almost two months. I was put on lockdown and I assumed you’d been killed.”
“What happened?”
“Sofia De Luca,” she responded simply.
“What?” How the fuck did Sofia fit into this?
“Have you heard the story of Sofia De Luca?” I nodded. “Well, then you know how it ends. The only reason you’re alive, bambina, is because of Sofia De Luca, because Lucio’s sons Emilio and Alessio aren’t.” My confusion must have showed because she elaborated. “By the time you were revealed to Lucio, years had passed since the end of the First Blood War. Lucio had no heirs, no wife, no sons—nothing. You were it, and even though you were nothing but a girl, you were all he had.”
The air in the room was too thick, taking up too much space in my lungs.
I had to sit down.
I walked over to the bed and put my head in my hands, struggling with the weight of the revelation. It was like my very existence had cursed Gabby and her entire family—first her mother, then her brother, then her very life. Anteros had told me about the false history, but I never thought about it that way. If Sofia, Emilio, and Alessio had lived, I would have been murdered as a child.
Lucia sat next to me, her weight dipping the bed. “Lucio created the rumor and the rest is history.” She placed a hand on my cheek again. “You should have had a very different life. You should have been a princess, but Lucio couldn’t see past his desire for a prince. I tried to give you a normal life, but your guardian fell in love with a man who liked to hit women.”
“What?” I stood from the bed so quickly I nearly tripped over the plush white rug at my feet. “Are you saying Papa killed my—” I nearly said mother, but I stopped myself. I had a feeling if I called her my mother, it would destroy whatever I had built with Lucia. The question was a stone in my gut, though. It suddenly made sense, why Papa never liked to talk about it, why the whole fistula thing never made any sense. Mom hadn’t fallen down anything.
When would I stop being so stupid?
“I’m saying that stupid girl fell in love with a hitter. When you fall in love with the wrong people, you pay prices.” She gave me a pointed look.
Taking deep breaths, I turned my attention to anything else in the room. The birdie clock still hanging on the wall. The alarm on the nightstand. The double doors guarding the wardrobe—were there still clothes inside? I had to keep it together. We had a plan. The plan did not involve slapping Lucia in the face.
But how dare she say those things about my mother?
She tilted her head like she could see the itch in my palm.
With a slow, deep inhale, I lied. “I’m tired of the past, of being tied to people who are dead. I just want to be family.”
Slowly Lucia stood from the bed, grasping my hands. “Tonight we will slay the Beast and finally be a family.”
“How?” I asked, hoping she would spill the details.
Instead she pulled me into a hug and whispered into my ear, “In time.” She held the hug a moment longer than I wanted. My skin crawled, her muggy breath too hot on my ear, her Chanel No. 5 like funeral flowers in my nose. When she released me, I fought the urge to suck in breaths like I’d just been underwater. She walked to the door and held her hand out to me. I had no choice but to grasp it and together we walked back to the foyer.
Right before we arrived, she gripped my arms and said, “Whatever happens out there, remember bambina, I love you. I have always loved you.”
I remembered the words the woman had yelled in the shipping container: someone who loves you doesn’t put you there. I thought Lucia did love me in way, but it wasn’t the way Mama had loved me, and it wasn’t the way Anteros and I loved each other. It was a twisted, ugly emotion she called love because she didn’t know anything else.
I glanced down the hallway, where Nikolai held a gun to Anteros. I bet Anteros’s parents thought they loved him too.
Smiling thinly, I said, “I love you too.” The words tasted like rotten milk on my tongue.
When we got to the foyer, Lucia slapped me across the face, winked at me, and pushed me to my knees next to Anteros.
“You must pretend to be upset,” she whispered.
“I think I can manage,” I said wryly, rubbing my cheek.
If Nikolai heard anything, he didn’t let on. I was pretty sure he was too busy focusing on Anteros, anyway. As Lucia went to stand by the stairs, he bent to Anteros, putting his lips to his ear and gun to temple.
