Her father nodded. “In my eyes, you and Diego will always be mine.” He smiled at her mom before he turned back to her. “I’ve never treated you differently, and I never will, but you’ve asked for the truth so we owe it to you.” He looked at Eric. “You’ve known?”
“Since Thanksgiving.”
“Okay,” her father started as he turned back to Emelia. “You know that your mother was good friends with my first wife, Francesca?”
Emelia nodded.
“Lucia had been dating someone. She was in love…or thought she was, but he grew increasingly violent. By the time she realized how extremely violent he was, she was pregnant by him. Francesca knew…she also knew that she only had a short time left. To protect her friend, and her friend’s babies, she begged me to marry Lucia, to claim her children as mine. I refused at first because the thought of being married to anyone other than Francesca made me sick to the stomach.” He wrapped his arm around his wife.
“She eventually wore me down because she said that she couldn’t go peacefully until she knew that me and her children would be looked after...emotional blackmail...myself and Lucia agreed…I loved your mother, Eric. She was my life before she died.”
Eric cleared his throat. “I know.”
“Of course when you,” he looked at Emelia, “and Diego were born, it caused so much conflict between me and Dante, and you, Eric, but Francesca had sworn us to secrecy. No way could your biological father find out about you. My heart was broken back then so I didn’t really care, which I should have. Perhaps if I had, then I’d still have the friendship with Francesca’s brother, Elias McKenzie, which I once had. It wouldn’t have ruined my relationship with my oldest son if I’d been honest, either. I have regrets about that time in our lives, but we just couldn’t risk it back then.
“Over the years, I fell deeply in love with Lucia, and that’s when we renewed our wedding vows. I love your mother, Emelia, with all my heart...and Eric, your mother is still in my heart and she always will be.”
Emelia sniffled into a Kleenex, and stood to accept her mother’s arms around her. “I’m so sorry we never told you.” Her mother kissed Emelia on her cheek. “We nearly did so many times after we knew he’d died, but as time went on, it became more difficult. Everyone seemed settled in their lives that we just left it.”
“We know now,” Emelia pulled away, and looked at Eric.
He hadn’t said much and he was old enough to remember that time in their lives, but as she looked at him now, he looked as though he was fighting back his anger.
“Eric?” she reached for his arm and, after he glanced at her, he looked at his father.
“Our lives could have been different if you had told us the truth. We all missed our mother, and I know Dante and I thought you’d been having an affair,” he paused, and Emelia saw the anger he tried to hide, “while our mother had been dying,” he shouted.
Emelia felt numb while she watched Eric get angrier by the minute. He had every right to. Before he could carry on, she asked, “Who is mine and Diego’s biological father?”
Silence followed, and was finally answered by their father, “He was a violent man, and we got word that he’d died, which is what you overheard nine years ago,” her father answered. “If you really need to know more details, we will tell you, but that is something I want you to think very carefully about first because once you know, it isn’t something that can be unknown.”
She gasped when the office door was pushed open, and Dante stood there, his expression clouded in anger.
A stunned silence followed before she watched Dante pull himself together. “Emelia isn’t my sister?” he asked so quietly that she didn’t think anyone could hear.
“Of course she is,” her father stated, a trace of anger in his voice.
“No...she isn’t,” Dante growled.
“How much did you hear?” Eric asked.
“Fucking everything.”
Emelia’s eyes widened in shocked surprise at hearing the curse leave Dante’s mouth—a true sign that he was angry and upset.
Emelia was glad that he’d overheard everything because it meant that she didn’t have to work up the courage to tell him. If only she could get her legs to move, she could go and offer him comfort. He looked sick at what he’d heard…sick and angry.
“Why?” Dante asked. “Dammit to hell, answer me,” he shouted. “All these years I thought you’d betrayed my dying mother with Lucia. Why the hell did you let me believe that? From the moment that you told us about Lucia and her pregnancy, our relationship has never been the same. Do I mean so little to you that you didn’t care?”
“That’s not true,” their father started, tears hovered on his lashes. “You’re my son, and I love you...I promised your mother. It was her last request before she died. It wasn’t a promise that I made lightly or that I was willing to break.”
Dante looked ready to break when Emelia took a step toward him. Her heart broke, as he took a step away without even looking at her.
“As I got older, became a man, you had plenty of time to tell me then, to explain...except you never did.”
Dante looked ready to break, so she took another step toward him. When she moved to touch him, he finally looked at her. “Don’t, Emelia. I can’t deal with you right now.” His black eyes looked straight through her—hard and uncaring.
The man standing in front of her wasn’t the man that she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He wasn’t the man that she still loved. There didn’t appear to be any sign of her Dante when she held his gaze—it was empty.