“You’re in the front seat next to me, I’m not chauffeuring anyone,” he replied, unbothered. How could he still be so calm? The more I thought about it, the more it hurt. All those tears, all the begging, everything I’d devoted myself to…the very fact that I became a doctor was because they died….and now…now I knew my life was built on lies…if Dona ever found out—
“Dona…if she ever…”
“It’s only a matter time before she knows, too,” he said, and I could tell he was doing that thing where he got lost in his plans.
“You think they’ll go to her—”
“How convenient do you think Gabriel was?” he asked slowly, and I paused, trying to understand. He went on, “He came at just the right time…he knew exactly how to approach Dona…how to approach us. Nana was on our side from the beginning, and Mother would never have made a deal for Italy. I don’t care how well she knows Dona. She wouldn’t have done it. They planted Gabriel…so he knows, too.”
I couldn’t stop the curses that flew out of my mouth, but who was I cursing? Them? Gabriel. “Cazzo! Che due coglioni! Figlio di puttana!” (Shit. What the fuck. Son of a bitch!).
“Yes, we are,” he whispered, exhaling. “It’s only a matter of time before he tells her.”
“They’d kill him.” They couldn’t kill us. But they would kill him.
“Not if Dona fell in love with him,” he replied, and I was really starting to wonder whose side he was fucking on. “Helen was ready to die at the chance of losing you…what do you think Dona would do—”
“She isn’t that type of person—”
“She’s a Callahan,” he reminded me. “She is that type of person, whether she knows it or not. Did you of all people ever think you’d fall in love, so in love that it’s the sole reason you fight to live again?”
“Helen wasn’t the sole reason,” I muttered, closing my eyes as I rested back. She was a big part of it, but she wasn’t the only reason.
“Whatever the reason, let’s not drag Dona into this,” he said softly. “Let her live her fairytale for as long as possible. She deserves that much at the very least.”
“Careful, your heart is showing again, big brother,” I teased him, expecting him to come back with something. But he didn’t say anything. Lifting my eyelids, I saw he wasn’t listening anymore. He was back to his master planning…but for what? Our parents? The southern gangs? Dona? “Ethan.”
“Hmmm…,” he muttered, proving how deep he was in his thoughts.
Gritting my teeth, I lifted my leg to catch his attention. When he glanced over at me, I continued, “I’m going to walk soon, so whatever you’re fucking planning, you better have me included in it.”
He stared and smirked. “Careful, little brother, your heart is showing again.”
“I can’t let you have all the attention now that you’re back.”
“You did good while I was gone.”
I wanted to thank my dad, really, but now that we knew our parents were alive, it didn’t feel right. There was never a dull moment in this goddamn family.
“What the hell?” he muttered as the gates of the manor opened, and I looked to see what he was looking at as we drove forward.
There were two small black dogs chasing each other around the water fountain in front of the house. What was even odder was the fact that no one was removing them. In the corner, there was a custom red 1953 Maserati A6 Berlinetta, and only one person in the world had it…some old rich in southern Italy who refused to sell it. I knew because Ethan wanted that car years ago.
“Were you expecting a guest?” I asked him.
“That was Mom’s car,” he replied and pulled to a stop in front of the mansion.
I looked back to the mansion, eyes wide. “They wouldn’t.”
He didn’t wait. He opened the door before Monk could, and Greyson opened mine. His face covered in deep scars, the bruises only now starting to fade. He moved to get the wheelchair, but I shook my head, lifting my legs out myself. Despite the pain, there was no fucking way I was going to be wheeled around in front of them.
“Wyatt?!” I felt Helen’s hands around my shoulder.
Leaning on her, I kept walking into the foyer, following him toward the dining room, where he stood at the d
oors. Once I was closer, I saw a white-haired, sun-tanned man wearing very expensive Italian shoes and sitting across from our grandmother.
“Who the fuck is this?” I asked, annoyed…