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“What are you doing?” he asks, eyes narrowed.
I swallow hard. “Just replying to a text.”
“Hand me the phone, Bella. I’m not going to hurt you.”
I swallow hard and place the phone in his outstretched hand. “Are you sure about that?”
His jaw clenches. “There’s no chance in hell that I’d ever hurt you, love.” The sincerity in his tone reassures me a little, as my mind and heart are at war with one another.
After a fifteen-minute drive, he parks outside of the entrance of Dumbarton Oaks Park and kills the engine.
“Why are we here?” I ask, looking at him.
All of a sudden, the normally arrogant and cold man looks ready to break. He’s withdrawn, and the expression on his face is one of pure anguish. “I’m going to tell you everything inside that park,” he murmurs quietly, getting out and waiting for me to follow.
I do silently, staying a few steps behind him as he leads me into the park. After a tense fifteen-minute walk, he comes to a stop at the foot of a large oak tree. He looks so small as he stands there, staring at the ground.
“Fifteen years ago, almost to the day, I lost the one person that meant the world to me.”
I swallow hard and move to stand next to him, taking his hand in mine as it feels right in this moment.
He takes a deep breath. “My brother,” he starts, his voice breaking as if from the emotion. It’s so strange seeing him like this. “My twin brother, Aiden—he was killed on your father’s orders.”
It feels like all the blood leaves my body at that moment. “What?” I whisper.
“You heard me, Bella. Don’t make me say it again.”
I clench my jaw, instantly feeling bad. “I’m sorry. Why would my father kill your twin?”
“A warning,” he says.
My brow furrows, none of this makes any sense. “I don’t understand.”
He closes his eyes. “This is the first time I’ve ever told anyone this story.” The look of pure anguish on his face makes my heart ache for him, and he hasn’t even told me the story yet. “We were fourteen years old and playing video games at home alone one night. Our father was out working somewhere.” I notice the visible shudder that moves through him. “It was getting late, about eleven o’clock, when we both heard a bang and four masked men broke into our home. They demanded to speak with our father, but he wasn’t there.” He clenches his jaw, as if it’s hard for him to continue.
“You don’t have to tell me anymore,” I say softly, as I’ve already heard enough. My father is the reason his twin is dead. It all makes sense now why he harbors such hatred toward him and my family.
“I want to,” he says softly.
I nod in response, unable to refuse considering how haunted he looks. It’s clear he needs to tell me his story, even if it only makes my hatred for my father deepen.
“After they checked the entire place over to ensure we weren’t lying, one of the men approached us and aimed his gun at Aiden.” He draws in a deep breath as if he’s struggling for air, his mouth opens a couple of times, but no words come out.
I squeeze his hand in encouragement, realizing how hard it must be for him to tell me this story if he’s told no one in fifteen years.
Isiah looks me in the eyes then and the pain in his own is palpable. “He shot him in the head without a moment’s hesitation, and then he said to me, tell your father that Gio Benedetto sends his regards and if he doesn’t get the fuck out of town tonight, he’ll be as dead as his son.”
I feel his pain and sickness claw at my insides as I wonder how my father could be so heartless to send men like that into the home of two children, but one thing doesn’t make sense. “Who was your father?”
“Samuel Dalton. My real name is Joe Isaiah Dalton.”
Dalton. I remember James Wick mentioning that name the night of the party. “James knows who you are, doesn’t he?”
He bares his teeth at the mention of him. “Don’t speak his name. He’s part of the reason my brother is dead.”
I straighten. “How?”
“I don’t know exactly. All I know is that my father treated him like a son. He lived with us but was a little older, so he was supposed to be with my dad when Aiden died. There was a fire at one of my father’s warehouses and we assumed he’d died in that.” Isiah clenches his fists by his side. “He clearly had something to do with it, as the snake is alive and well. Only men who defaulted to your father’s side lived.”
