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A gunshot ricochets through the studio, and I yelp in shock. Lucas’s shirt dangles from his hand, remnants of a smoking material that he was seconds away from pulling onto his body. He looks at Diego in shock and fear.
“It’s Greco.”
“What?” Lucas breathes, on the verge of tears.
“Her name. It isn’t Bianchi or Lincoln. It’s Greco. AlessiafuckingGreco. Don’t make me shoot you by disrespecting our marriage again.”
Lucas scrambles to leave, yanking up his jeans as he hurries out the door Diego burst through only seconds ago.
Now alone, Diego turns his attention to me.
I focus my attention back on my drawing.
“I’ll put a bullet through that, too, if you continue to pay it more attention than me right now.”
I put my charcoal down and push my stool away from the easel.
He holds up the yellow envelope. “What the fuck is this?”
“Divor—”
“I know what they are, Sia. I’ll ask again, what the fuck?”
“I tried to talk to you, and I don’t hold it against you for ignoring me…”
“Ignoring you? Are you fucking kidding?”
My brows pull together. “I have been calling you nonstop, and you send me to voicemail. I flew to New York, Diego. You weren’t there. You wouldn’t see me. I couldn’t find you.”
Rubbing a hand down his face, he laughs, the sound too unhinged for me to find joy in the gesture. “Ignoring you.” He shakes his head. “Where do you think I’ve been, Sia?”
I lift my shoulders awkwardly. “Taking time to think.”
“Oh, I’ve done plenty of thinking about all the ways I want to kill your fucking brother.”
“What?”
“He’s kept me fucking captive, Sia!”
“What!”
That doesn’t make sense. I’ve been reassuring Salvatore all week that Diego has promised me his silence. He listened to my lies and didn’t bat a fucking eyelid, knowing it was all fucking made up. How could Diego reassure me when he was locked away?
“No. No.” I shake my head, knowing it's true.
Of course, it’s fucking true.
“Heturned up at your mother’s to facilitate cleanup. He took one look at me, and when I had my back turned, he pistol-whipped me over the back of the head. I woke up tied to a chair in his stupid house.” Fury radiates through his entire being. “He threatened to kill me a minimum of a thousand times. He asked me what I planned to do with what I’d learned, but nothing I said resonated. Then he delivered me these, preening like a fucking pigeon, offering me something I don’t want.”
“I don’t want to hold onto something that I stole. I borrowed your love, Diego. It’s not fair.”
He stares me down.
I’m going to kill my brother, but first, I need to work out what the fuck is going on.
“I wrote you a letter,” I murmur absently, confusion twisting my words and letting them trail off into nothing but a whisper. “It’s in there. It explains everything.”
“Oh. You wrote me a letter?” he growls. “Tell me what it says.”
