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"What are you talking about? I never touched your mother," Raphael objects with confusion, "and your father never suffered. I killed him quickly, which he didn't deserve after what he'd done to my family."
"Don't lie to me," Leo threatens, and I can see that he’s moved the knife closer to Raphael's neck; the blade digs into the thin skin.
"Why would I lie to you? I'm already doomed."
"Our housekeeper found them; they were both dead," Leo hisses through clenched teeth, and I can see how tightly he’s clenching the knife; his hand is almost shaking with fury.
"I never touched your mother," Raphael repeats, looking directly into Leonardo's eyes. "I killed your father only because he ruthlessly murdered my parents; he burned them alive."
"You're lying," Leo hisses angrily, and I can see his patience running out.
"I swear on my sister's life," Raphael continues. "The great London fire started with a bakery, my parents' bakery."
"My father wouldn't stoop to killing some bakers," Leo protests, even though I see a hint of hesitation on his face.
"He collected tribute from all the business owners of London," Raphael keeps going. "Every month, he came to our bakery, and my parents paid him. There was one time when they delayed payment due to Beatrice's illness. And that's when he ordered his subordinates to burn the bakery."
That is true: I got sick, and my mother couldn't work and had to take care of me while my father did his best to keep the business going. Raphael was in the army then, and when he came back, our parents were already dead. They died in the Great London Fire, with many more other people. I survived only because I stayed at the hospital that night.
Leonardo keeps silent; he stops arguing, and I can see that he’s wondering whether it could be true.
"So many innocent people died that day," Raphael continues, still looking at Leonardo from below, his back pressed to the chair while Leonardo is standing above him. "I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t kill his subordinates because it wouldn't change anything; he'd keep collecting tribute and hurting more people. I had to stop him."
"Why should I believe you?"
"They left a message in our house. Your father's signature metal feather, the coat of arms of your society. He did this every time he wanted people to know about his deeds, to make them afraid of him; to make them pay."
"What happened to my mother then?" Leonardo asks after a moment of silence, and I can see that the pressure of the blade on my brother's neck has decreased.
"When I came to your house, she was nowhere around," Raph explains, and I know for sure that he's telling the truth.
"But she was dead as well!" Leo yells, and I can see an intense pain in his eyes, one he tries to hide from others. It's still there, like an unhealed wound.
"I never touched your mother," Raph repeats calmly.
"Don't hurt him, please," I beg, getting on my knees in front of Leonardo, looking at him from below with my eyes filled with tears.
If he killed my brother, my only family, I would never forgive him, not in a million years. And I'd be lonely for the rest of my life.
"I love you," I say quietly, and they both turn to face me with surprise. "I love you," I repeat, looking straight into Leo's eyes. "You don't have to do this; it won't ease your pain. I know because I lost my parents too. Raphael just wanted to protect us, protectme." I emphasize the last word on purpose because I know that Leo understands perfectly what that means when you're ready to do anything it takes to protect your family.
There’s a long pause as we stare at each other motionless, diving into our gazes.
"I love you more." He finally breaks the silence, and his hand slowly lowers.
CHAPTER TWELVE
BEATRICE
"Please let me in," Leonardo begs from behind my bedroom door, which I locked when I heard him coming up the stairs.
He didn't kill my brother. They talked, and Raphael proved that Leo's father was the one responsible for the death of our parents. It was hard for Leo to accept that a man he had wanted to kill for centuries was just a man who was protecting his own family. He also saved a lot of other Londoners who suffered from the attacks of that horrible man. I still can't believe it's Leonardo's father.
We have no idea who killed his mother, though. The only thing I know is that it wasn't my brother. It must be true if Raphael says he didn't do it. He would never lie to protect himself. That's not the way my brother is. His principles always win over his sense of self-preservation.
I wish Raph had told me why we were hiding for so many years, running from one of the most influential vampire families. I wish I'd known. Maybe I would be more careful.
But in that case, I would never have met Leo. I try to wipe away the thought, but it's all in vain: I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop imagining what would happen if I knew about everything in advance and didn't go to that ball.
