Page 173 of Deceived
Gave my cousin a smile that had her talking even faster.
“I will order Severin to conduct a thorough investigation into the explosion and the resulting fire, but yes, a terrible loss for both of our bloodlines. Thankfully, we both have suitable heirs who can take over.” Giovanni leaned closer to Marcello, lowering his voice. “So,” he remarked, “this ends our… unpleasantness.”
My father’s mouth barely moved. “It appears so.”
“Your son,” Giovanni added softly, “was becoming a problem. You can find a way to thank me later, I suppose.”
Thank me.
I froze, releasing the cousin’s hand as she moved on. My chest was too tight to take a proper breath, and my father’s dark gaze slid to me once more.
Assessing.Suspicious.
I kept my face blank as I nodded in invitation to Rocco Demente, the old male lifting his hand to me as he limped forward, leaning heavily on his cane.
Heading my way with singular purpose.
Marcello’s gaze drifted over to the line of attendees, over the macabre spectacle he’d crafted. “You overstepped, Giovanni,” he hissed. “I did not sanction that bomb. Therewere other ways to deal with Dante. And killing your own niece. I never realized you were a soulless monster.”
Giovanni gave a quiet laugh. “We have all made sacrifices to the cause. Now we are even. For the time being.”
The words were cold, almost gloating, not a hint of grief or regret. This fucking bastard had killed his own niece, drowned her, then had the gall to pretendhewas the one who’d made a sacrifice?
“For the time being,” Marcello echoed hollowly, reaching for Emilia’s hand as she approached.
Giovanni hummed, then tilted his head, as if remembering something pleasantly inconvenient.
“Ah,” he spoke loudly enough for me to hear. “I expect to see you tomorrow evening—Emberline’s funeral is sure to put this one to shame. We’ll both bury our sins and put this matter to rest, once and for all.”
My throat was so tight, I nearly choked, but Giovanni had his eyes glued on my father, watching for his reaction, his smile faltering when Marcello’s cold expression didn’t change.
“I haven’t forgotten, and I do not need reminding.”
“Good. I’d hate for you to miss such a tragic event,” Gio sniped. “We should mourn our losses together, Don. United publicly. There is unity in grief, after all.”
Then he stepped back, melting into the crowd of mourners as Rocco appeared before me, clasping my hand a little too greedily.
“Gabriel, my boy, I am sorry for your brother. He was a bright light, snuffed out too soon.” He paused, a greedy gleam in his dark eyes. “Is there anywhere we might speak privately? I have a business proposition for you.”
I touched my father’s sleeve. “Don, Rocco and I are heading to the main house.” I beckoned two of our soldierscloser. “I should only be a moment. I am sure Signore Demente would not pull me away on the eve of my brother’s funeral rite unless this matter was of utmost importance.” I shot Rocco a gleaming smile. “Follow me. You look like you could use a glass of brandy.”
“That sounds good, my boy.” Rocco’s cane tapped against the stone. “You’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
I seriously doubted that, but this would get me out from under Giovanni’s probing eyes and away from my sire, who I wanted to kill. All I could think about was wrapping my hands around his throat and twisting. All I wanted was to hear him beg for his life.
But Marcello was sick. Sicker than even I knew.
And Giovanni… that pious bastard was behind Dante’s disappearance. Nico watched me from across the open patio, mourners lining up to bow to my father, to kiss his ring. My friend’s fingers flashed.What did you find out?
I know who took Dante.I replied.Giovanni.
One curt nod and Nico was gone, flying across the water to tighten the vise around Giovanni’s spy network and find my fucking brother before they killed him for real. It took me fifty years to free him last time; I wouldn’t fail him again.
My father and Giovanni DiRavello thought they’d won.
They thought they’d removed the volatile pieces from the board and brought the game back under their control. They believed they were safe from retribution. That there was no one left to punish them for their sins.
They were wrong.
Today, they buried my brother.
Tomorrow, they would parade Emberline’s coffin past these same vampires and call her death a tragedy. They would trade the same, empty condolences and pretend theirhands were clean. They would congratulate themselves that they’d gotten away with their crimes.
And I would watch them bury the female I craved with every part of my soul.
The female I had no right wanting but couldn’t stop myself from wanting, no matter how hard I tried.
My brother had made me swear to protect her. To keep her safe. To keep her close. I was a greedy bastard, and chances were, I’d burn in the Underworld for wanting what I could never have, but I was a sinner to the core.
Burning didn’t scare me one bit.
