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He shook his head. “I must admit, I’ve waited so long for this. Years.”

Finally, I found my voice, and I hated how small I sounded, “What are you talking about?”

My father started to circle me, stopping when he stood behind me, his hands finding my shoulders. Though the shirt I wore had sleeves, it was like I wasn’t wearing anything. He squeezed my shoulders so hard they’d bruise, and he kept up the pressure, even as he started to speak.

“When I hired those goons to take care of that priest, I never expected we’d end up here, but it’s quite fitting.”

The words hit me like a brick wall, and if I wasn’t already sitting, I would’ve fallen. My father was the one who’d hired those Serpents? Not to steal from the church, but to kill Father Charlie?

“I didn’t think you’d find them as they were doing the deed, but it worked out well enough. The Serpents are on their way here now to get you. As much as you’ve been a thorn in my side, Giselle, I do have some standards. I am a man who’d much rather have someone else do the dirty work, but I’m not opposed to getting involved myself, if need be.” His hands left my shoulders, and he once again stood in front of me, looking quite proud about all of this.

The fact that the Serpents were coming to get me, to probably kill me, wasn’t what I was focusing on. No, I couldn’t get past what he’d said before, about Father Charlie. “Why? Why have them kill Father Charlie?”

He held his hands before him. “You two were close, weren’t you? So very close.”

“You told me I should try to find myself in religion, like mother did—”

My father nodded. “That I did. I pushed you to go to that church after I gave you to Rocco.” A sick, twisted smirk crossed his face. “The funny thing is, you weren’t even part of the deal. I gave you to Rocco because I could, because I knew exactly what he’d do.”

Just when I thought my father couldn’t be a bigger asshole, he went and proved me wrong.

“After all this time, you should know the truth.” He shrugged. “It isn’t like you’ll live to see another day, so it isn’t any skin off my back.”

The truth? What the fuck was this madman talking about?

His dark stare studied me, drawing along my face, glancing at what must be my hair. “Tell me, Giselle, have you ever wondered how you turned out to be such a natural blond? Your mother was blond, yes, but if you know anything about genetics, you’ll know that any child of mine would have my dark hair. Perhaps a grandchild could be blond, but not a son or a daughter.”

He stepped closer to me, a hand shooting out and gripping my chin, forcing me to tilt my head back and look up at him. “At first, I thought your hair would darken. I thought, as you grew up, your hair would change. A lot of babies are born with blue eyes that change, so I hoped… I wanted—well, it doesn’t matter what I wanted, because you’re obviously not mine.” He let go of my chin, though he didn’t go to step back. He stood next to me, towering over me, glaring at me like he hated me.

“I got rid of your mother, as much as it pained me to do so. I couldn’t let her get away with her affair.” He carried on, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on me, “And as you grew up, I did my best to track down who she could’ve fucked to bring you into this world. I looked at her childhood friends, killed a lot of them—and they all vehemently denied it.” He scoffed at himself. “It took me years to figure it out, and honestly, I hate that it took me so long, but in the end, I do think it worked out.”

I didn’t know what he was saying. Everything… it was too much, too much for my frazzled, pounding brain to comprehend.

“I gave you to Rocco, knowing it would destroy you, and then I suggested you visit your mother’s priest. I knew he would recognize you, because you’ve grown up into a mirror image of her. Seeing you destroyed like that… it destroyed him, and what’s worse, he couldn’t say a single thing about it, lest he risk his entire life.”

Something stabbed me in my gut. A deep pain that threatened to drown me, a hurt that wouldn’t simply disappear with time. No, this particular pain felt like it was currently in the process of swallowing me.

“No,” I whispered.

“Yes. Father Charlie, a man of God, was your father. I let you have time with him, let you grow to care for the man—and then I hired those Serpents to take him out. This whole time, you were never going to make it out of Cypress alive. That was the plan. Handing you over to the Serpents wasn’t a part of the original plan, but since you didn’t die that night, I had to reevaluate things. Marry you to Luca, force you to live with Rocco—”

The more he talked, the more I couldn’t believe it. I literally couldn’t believe it. Everything in my life had been a lie. A lie I’d believed because I’d known nothing different. All the pain I’d gone through while in Cypress was because he hated me, because he wasn’t my father.

Miguel Santos wasn’t my father. Father Charlie was, and knowing I’d arrived too late to save him hurt me even more now. Miguel had killed my mother, had my father killed, and tried to do the same to me, and when I’d survived, he simply tried to make my life as miserable as he could.

What the actual fuck?

“You’re quiet,” he went on. “Nothing to say, Giselle?”

“Fuck you,” I whispered. It was the only thing I could say, the only words that came out of my mouth. I couldn’t… how could I process this information? Everything, literally everything in my life had been a lie.

My father—no, Miguel, because that’s who he was—smirked. “So vulgar. I didn’t raise you to be vulgar.” His hand shot out, grabbed my neck, and lifted me up off the chair. He picked me up like I was nothing, and I was too out of it to do much of anything. He spun us, slamming my back against one of the rickety metal walls. “I raised you to take everything life throws at you. To be meek. To accept your place in the world. You’ve been a bad girl lately, don’t you think?”

That hand tightened around my throat, and I struggled to breathe. I couldn’t push him off me, so I instead felt fumbled around his belt, trying to find a gun—but there was nothing. Nothing I could take from him and use to get out of this fucked up situation.

He had me at his mercy, and if there was one thing I’d learned about Miguel Santos, it was that he had none.

He flashed his brilliant white teeth at me. “Did you think I would be stupid enough to bring a gun in here with you? You should know better than to underestimate me by now.” His other hand moved to my stomach, pressing against the spot where I’d been shot.

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