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“I understand.” He looks to Callum, who nods, stepping aside.
“You heard her. Get out of here,” Callum orders. Ken gives me one last sorrowful look before leaving the room, Romero following close behind him.
At first, I can't move. All I can do is stare at the spot where Ken just stood and remember all the times he had the nerve to grieve beside my father. All the times he sat with him, talked with him. The way he wept at my mother's graveside on the day of the funeral.
He knew exactly what happened to her. All the time. He held the truth right in the palm of his hands, and he never told us.
“Now, will you please sit down?” I'm barely aware of Callum guiding me to a seated position on the sofa. I hardly feel the supple leather beneath my hands.
“Why did you ask him to come here? How much did you know?”
“It's complicated.”
That's not the answer I want to hear. Not after everything we've been through, not after discovering the truth.
“Can you just give me a fucking answer, Callum!! How much did you already know?”
“I promised I would find answers.” I nod, waiting. “Romero finally put it together when he noticed how it seemed like Sebastian recognized Ken the day he and your father came to the house. We dug a little deeper, and Sebastian confirmed Ken took money from his father years ago.”
“Why?”
Callum's voice is edged with hesitation. “Bianca... Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“For God's sake, I'm not a child, and just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm some delicate flower incapable of handling big emotions. Tell me.”
“Salvatore Costello paid Ken to keep your father out of our business. We were in the middle of working out our first deal at the time. He didn't want the extra complications. When Charlie wouldn't back down, Sal decided to get rid of him. I was completely unaware of it, I swear. I didn't know anything about you, your mother, or any of it. And for what it's worth, Ken probably did his best. You know how impossible it is to make your father listen.”
“Okay.” That's not true at all. I don't see a damn thing. “How long have you known?”
“I didn't want to tell you anything until I knew the whole story.”
“That's not an answer, Callum!”
“Weeks. I've known for weeks. It seemed obvious the autopsy was altered, which then got me asking questions. I didn't have anything to do with her death—not directly. I was afraid you would blame me once you found out.”
“I'm not stupid. I know you couldn't have done anything to stop this. And I understand you were trying to protect me.” A sudden sob erupts from my chest before I cover my face with my hands. “My poor dad. All this time. He trusted Ken. He's been suffering alone, no one believing him, wondering who he could trust, and the one person he believed in…”
I can't do it anymore. My heart is going to break.
“Come here.” Callum pulls me closer until I'm in his lap, and resting my head on his shoulder while the tears continue to fall like rain. “If it helps, I do believe Ken was trying to do what he thought was best. He was afraid of telling Charlie the truth. I can understand why. Costello paid him to do a job, and he needed the money. He thought he was helping Charlie. I'm not trying to defend him,” he murmurs, rubbing my back, his breath stirring my hair. “However, I can see his side of the story.”
“He let my father believe it was you who killed my mother all this time.”
“And I'm sure that would have worked just fine if it hadn't been for me falling in love with you.”
“That's not fair to you.”
“You think Charlie Cole is the first person who ever hated me? Please. I can handle that. What I can't handle is knowing how that gets in our way now.”
“I have to tell him the truth, somehow, except I don't have the first idea how to do it.”
“It's good that you don't have to do anything right now. Take your time. Figure out what feels best. You don't necessarily have to put a time stamp on when you tell him.”
How tempting, the idea of pretending this never happened. “No. He needs to know he was right. He needs closure. Or else he will spend the rest of his life stuck in one place. I can't let that happen. I don't want to hurt him in the process, though.”
“I understand.” The touch of his lips to my forehead is sweet, comforting. “Although you know, it would be alright to admit this hurts you, too. It's a betrayal. He betrayed both of you, even if he thought he was doing it for the right reasons.”
“The villain isn't supposed to be the person closest to you.”
