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“Leo said you orchestrated her death—and my sister’s.”
“I think your sister was an unfortunate accident,” I tell her, and that’s the truth. I don’t think Romano would ever give an actual shit about his children—biological or not—but he would have wanted to protect Isabella as much as he had Alice—as much as he would any valuable item in his possession. “And depending on how you look at it, I suppose that might be considered the truth.”
Her eyes widen a fraction. “I don’t understand.”
“I fucked your father.”
Her jaw snaps shut, and I almost laugh, but not because any of this is funny. This is not the conversation I want to have with the woman I intend to make my queen. “Why?”
“Because he took something from me.” I feel the old, atrophied pain of loss in my chest, and I breathe through it. “He was a priest, and he killed someone I loved. I decided in that moment I was going to ruin him, and the first step was destroying his faith and his reputation with the church.”
I can see all the thoughts racing behind her eyes. “Was this before my mother?”
I nod. “I don’t know why that was the thing that broke him—giving in to those carnal desires he’d spent most of his life trying to ignore. He had already committed so many unforgivable sins. I was going to use what happened to blackmail him, but something in him shattered that night when I put him on his knees.” It’s strange telling Alice this, but it feels almost cathartic. I’m not ready to tell her everything, but this is enough for now. “He left the church of his own free will.”
“That’s why he hates you,” she whispers.
I nod, then drag the tips of my fingers along her jaw. “That, and more. There has never been peace between us, Alice. And you know that is the main reason I wanted to keep you.”
Hurt flashes in her eyes, but my brave, beautiful future queen straightens her shoulders and nods. “Yeah. I do know.”
“That doesn’t mean it can’t be more than that,” I remind her after a beat. “But hurting your father—ruining every atom in his body—will always be a priority.”
She breathes out, then shrugs. “He’s not my father. And I don’t know that he was ever a good man.”
I laugh—I can’t help it. “No, my sweet. He was anything but. He didn’t just stumble onto this empire once he left the church. He was involved even when he was in his fucking vestments. Taking his vows might have been a last-ditch effort to save a soul that had long since been damned, but I don’t think that’s what it was. He was unholy. The Romano family is big, and it has connections and money, just like mine. Only he rules with fear, and in the end, he won’t have anyone loyal to him. When I finally get my hands on him, there will be no one coming to his rescue.”
She breathes out softly. “Won’t someone just take his place?”
I shrug. “One of your cousins, I assume. Leo or Marco. It doesn’t matter to me. I plan to make it very clear that they are no longer welcome in my city if they want their family to survive. The world is too vast for them not to take me up on my offer of peace—so long as I never have to see any Romano ever again.”
Her eyes flash with hurt again, and I realize my misstep.
“Alice, you’re not—”
“I should go get you something to eat,” she interrupts, slipping from my grasp.
I let her go, mostly because I can’t promise that I will eventually stop seeing that bit of her who still belongs to that family. I want to believe it’ll happen—that it’s already starting—but it’s too soon to know.
And after all, if I’m anything at all, it’s a man who knows himself.
Chapter10
ARIEL
There’ssomething about touching the skin on my wrists that is rubbed raw from cuffs that James had me hanging by most of the night. My back stings from the welts, thanks to the flogger, and my head finally feels clear since we got home. I didn’t sink into the edge of madness until we got the confirmation from one of the doctors that Kane wasn’t just going to make it but that he was just fine.
And then I let go.
The last two nights are nothing but a blur of silent screams, my throat raw from trying to make noise, being edged to the point of begging, and passing out more than once in a haze of desperation and pain. It was everything I needed.
I was able to let go and pour every ounce of anger, fear, and desperation into James’ perfectly capable and clever hand.
And he didn’t let me down.
I had worried at first, because Kane usually did this for me, and it was the first time since I arrived here at the manor that he wasn’t able to give me what I needed. But the playroom—the death sentence for so many—was my sanctuary until I could breathe again.
Then James let me down, bathed me, tucked me into the cot in the corner, and held me until I got some actual sleep.
