Page 65 of Vicious Secrets
If the man who spoke to Tiff was telling the truth, that raid was pointless. And I almost lost Siro to it.
The tremor in my body returns in a fury as I angle myself to face him. My eyes are squarely on his chest, on the gray t-shirt that conceals his wounds. I grab one of Siro’s hands and hold it tightly between both of mine. His arm stiffens, but not out of pain, out of surprise.
Siro’s free hand tilts my chin up. His eyes pierce my soul as he searches my face. “Robyn, babe, what’s wrong?”
My jaw twitches as I open my mouth. My lips drag over my dry teeth as they quiver in a pitiful attempt to create language. Where the fuck do I even start?
“Siro, listen to me. Listen. To. Me. Okay? Fucking promise me you won’t act without hearing everything. Okay?” If there were spit in my mouth, it’d be dotting his shirt right now.
His lips part, and his eyes dart about my face. “I-I’ve done that? I didn’t let you—”
“Fuck!” I shout as I yank away from him and catapult myself onto my feet. I fist my fingers in my hair at the temples and stare at an empty spot on the bed. “Siro! Just fucking promise me and keep the fucking promise! This isn’t about us! Or me! It’s about you, alright?”
My pulse pounds in my ears, but I swear I hear footsteps in the hall. The bedspread is thrown back, and Siro slides into my field of vision. His eyes are narrowed, but he doesn’t look angry. If anything, he’s frustrated by his own confusion from my behavior.
“I promise to listen before acting, Robyn.” He reaches up and forces my fingers to release the grip they have on my hair. Taking my clammy hands in his, he lowers my arms.
I feel faint and regret jumping out of bed. I try to take a deep breath, but my lungs refuse to fill until I’ve spit out the words I’m holding back.
Lying through omission is not protection.
“Renzo had evidence that Reg Dirosa is not your father, that your bio dad is in the Bratva. Renzo approached the Bratva, and they killed him to keep it secret.”
Siro stares me directly in the eye. His upper lip moves like he’s about to speak, but no sound comes out.
“Renzo has a list of names, flights your Mom took, phone calls she made, and”—I finally get a deep breath in—“a paternity test.”
Siro’s hands drop into his lap, unintentionally pulling me forward and between his knees. His gaze droops, and his blinks look forced by how his face scrunches.
“Six people know: me, Tiff, Danny, Ari, Fabi, and Vittore. Alic doesn’t know, but there’s already talk about spinning the explanation of the attack as Renzo being treasonous. Tiff suspects that your—” I’d slap myself across the face if he weren’t holding my hands right now. “That Reg knows too.”
“What the fuck,” Siro says under a heavy exhale. “What the fuck?”
“Tiff said that Reg has never considered anyone except you to succeed him.”
He scoffs and turns his head away to sneer at the wall.
I lean in and kiss his temple. “You’re turning thirty-three in a few weeks. Think about it, Siro. That’s a long time to keep a secret that would hand over power to another crime family. If others knew, they would have come out by now or helped Renzo; and look who’s dead. Just him.”
“Wait, does that...” His eyes roll around in his sockets like he’s literally searching his head. “Am I a Spring Break baby?”
My brows jump into my hairline, and I lean back to see if he’s losing blood. He isn’t, but I think the full weight of his shock is at bay because of his injuries. There’s a snort-laugh in the hallway.
Siro leans to the side, peering around me. “Is my math wrong, Vi?”
The door creaks open behind me. “Fuck if I know. But there isn’t a chance she unknowingly hooked up with Bratva. One, your mother was born into the Fedeltà, two, Renzo knew where to look, and three, she’s a lazy, vindictive bitch.”
Siro’s shoulders sag. He hisses and raises them. “The confusing question Tiff mentioned, it was about my father?”
“No, I think it was about a fish.”
I whip around to look at Vittore. His brows raise when our eyes meet. I’m sure Siro is giving him an equally baffling look.
“Or that’s what Google told me.” Vittore shrugs.
Siro’s eyes narrow. “A sea star?”
“I got starfish. So, maybe? Yeah?” Vittore shrugs again.
