Page 69 of Secrets of the Brother
After pausing a moment to make sure the church was still empty, she exited and turned. “It makes leaving you for good that much easier. Goodbye.”
She slammed the door shut.
The hard clack of her heels resonated against the marble tile as she stormed away.
I sat on the bench.
The scent of her perfume lingered in the small, enclosed space.
I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes.
If I hadn’t decided to finally embrace my family’s true legacy, those final words from the woman I loved might have been the end of it all.
Instead, all I heard was a challenge.
CHAPTER17
BIANCA
Santo inferno!
It was a fitting exclamation since I was fairly certain people who had dirty, hot sex in church received a first-class ticket straight to hell.
After racing directly home and changing out of my wrinkled clothes, I’d spent the last two hours cloistered in our family’s rarely used library with my sketch pad.
Every time I heard the scuff of a heel outside the closed doors, my stomach clenched, and I braced myself for the possibility of my scandalized mother crashing into the room, telling me I was excommunicated because I had been seen on my knees sucking Enzo Cavalieri’s cock like a Jezebel.
My mind still reeled from the revelations he'd forced on me.
Renata had tried to kill Milana. What the fuck?
Judging by how my mother spewed venom when Amara appeared in Barone’s life, I couldn't imagine either she or my sister took Milana's appearance any better, but to try and kill her? Why?
It didn’t make any sense.
And what could my parents possibly be involved in that would have gotten Renata killed?
I knew they needed money. Not in the way normal people needed money. We weren’t hurting to pay our bills or put food on the table. No, my parents were upset that their obscene amount of money had dwindled to merely a ridiculous amount, especially now with the lost Cavalieri connection. I knew my father and sister had exploited that connection for at least one land purchase.
I had overheard them talking about it before I left for New York.
Something about a warehouse and a man named Agnello.
Thinking about this wasn’t getting me any answers and it was only providing a thin distraction from thinking about what was really bothering me. Enzo.
I meant what I said.
At least Iwantedto mean what I said.
We were over. Done. Finished.
We had now been in each other’s presence three times since the death of my sister and all three times we'd had a fight that then led to an explosion of unholy passion. As if our anger was driving our desires. That might make for exciting drama in romance novels or in movies but in the real world, that was a dangerous and toxic foundation to build a relationship on. Never mind the fact that ours was already teetering on shaky moral ground.
Secrets. Lies. Betrayals. Murder. And now sex in a church.
If that wasn’t a recipe for a relationship doomed to burn in the fires of hell, I didn’t know what was.
My only recourse was to stay as far away as possible from the man.
