Page 59 of The Don's Secret Heir

He blows out a breath. “His parents were killed.”

“I know, but that doesn’t negate?—”

“My problem wasn’t with Dario,” he says firmly. “And I’m not holding onto a decades-long grudge after Arturo’s death. My beef died with him.”

“That’s... mature of you.”

He smirks at me. “Do you think of us mobsters as immature?”

“Sometimes,” I admit, knowing that I can speak freely with Vincenzo. He’s practically family. “Vincenzo, do you know what happened to my father?”

He shakes his head. “I wish I did,cara. But he just... disappeared.”

I nod, tears still burning at the backs of my eyes.

“He used to be good at that, disappearing,” he says, but there’s something in his voice that tells me he knows this is different.

Before he married Felicia, my father had been a womanizer, for sure. He’d taken off a dozen times, but he’d always kept in touch with me, and with Vincenzo.

This time, it’s been radio silence.

That only means one thing in this lifestyle—he's gone.

I sniffle, lifting my head, and Vincenzo makes a distressed sound in the back of his throat.

“I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,cara?—”

"You didn’t,” I say quickly, patting the creases out of my dress. “Thank you for your time.”

He nods and I walk into the hallway, taking in a deep, shaky breath to calm myself.

Once I’ve collected myself, I walk down the stairs, looking for Beth.

She’s dancing with that tall man and looking up into his eyes.

I chuckle, hoping for the best. Beth has... attachment issues, and she falls in love fast.

Probably too fast.

But who am I to judge?

“Excuse me,” a low voice says from behind me, and I turn around, recognizing one of Dario’s cousins.

“Benedict Conte,” I say with a smile, giving him a half-hug. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since our high school graduation.”

He’s fifteen years younger than Dario, just like me, and we were in the same grade. We even went to a dance or two together.

He chugs out a laugh, looking down at me with glassy eyes, and I realize he’s drunk.

I can’t help but giggle when he braces himself on a nearby table.

“Jesus. I didn’t even recognize you, Liana. You look... amazing.”

“You look good too,” I say. It’s true, he does look healthy despite his level of intoxication.

“Do you want to dance?” He leans down close to my ear when he says it.

I put my hands on his chest, smiling at him and opening my mouth to say no, when a large shadow falls over me.