Scarred Regrets (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 5)

65

IRINA

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” my father yelled. His voice was distant, coming from outside the house. I furrowed my brow as I went in search of him, walking to the empty bedroom across the hall from our room to look out in front of the house.

He stood across from Scar, my husband speaking in calm tones that I couldn’t even hear, but I could imagine from the forcibly relaxed expression on his face.

I hurried away from the window, moving down the staff hallway in a rush to get between them and diffuse the situation.

I’d known my father would react poorly to our wedding, that he would be furious that his baby girl had given up the high society experience he’d imagined all my life.

He hadn’t gotten to walk me down the aisle or even be present as I said my vows to a man I knew he didn’t approve of.

“Irina, honey wait—” Ivory said, stepping in as if she might try to stop me. I stormed around her, the open windows carrying my father’s voice through the foyer.

“What exactly do you think will happen when she finds out about your little red list, Scar?” my father asked, his face alight with malice as I stepped out the front door quietly.

Neither man noticed me, too caught up in their stand-off to care as I listened to the conversation. Ivory covered her mouth with her hand, her other reaching for me to tug me back into the house as horror stole over her features.

The look of shock on Scar’s face took my breath away, stealing it right out of my lungs. Very little managed to surprise him, his behavior too focused on observing all the little details of those around him for anything to slip by.

“Did you think I didn’t know? That Franco didn’t inform me of all the filthy things he did with my goddamn wife? That he didn’t send me photos of her corpse after you slit her fucking throat and shot her in the head for good measure?”

My ears rang.

Ivory moved at my side, shifting as her mouth opened, but there was no sound. There was just nothing but the buzzing in my head and the inability to make sense of my father’s words.

No. My mother was alive. She’d chosen to leave me. She’d abandoned me when I was just a girl stuck in her tug-o-war with my father.

No.

I shook my head, stepping back and wrenching my hand out of Ivory’s grip as Scar moved. He closed the distance between us, his mouth moving with words I couldn’t hear.

Matteo and Simon stepped out of the house, Don at their side with his aging face twisted in pain. It was his kind gaze that landed on mine, that connected with me through the panic rising in my veins.

The sympathy in them smacked me in the chest, wrenching me out of the overwhelming disbelief. Sound returned in a flood, overwhelming my senses as nausea churned in my gut and forced me to double over to shove it down.

“You have to listen to me. Please, Butterfly,” Scar said, grasping me by the shoulders and straightening me to stand in front of him. His dark eyes were anguished when they met mine, none of the dismissal I’d expected to see when I looked at him.

No denial of my father’s accusation.

“Irina, get in the car. Now,” my father said.

Scar turned to level a glare at him, pointing a finger at Matteo that left no room for argument. “Get him out of here. Now.”

“I want to go,” I whispered, shaking my head from side to side. The thought of what he might have done, of the way he’d deceived me, was too much.

I needed space. I needed a divorce.

Oh God.

“Butterfly,” Scar said, tucking my hair behind my ear. I swatted the hand away, staring up at him in terror as my eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t touch me,” I whispered, pressing my lips together. I couldn’t break. Not here, not with him to witness it.

He’d lost that right.

“I want to go home with my father,” I said, raising my chin and moving to step around Scar.

“You are not getting in that fucking car, Irina. You are my goddamn wife, and I swear to God, I will kill him before I let you leave me,” he said, drawing a shocked gasp from Ivory.

“What’s two parents when you already killed one?” I asked, watching as the words landed. He flinched, reaching out as if he might touch me again before he dropped his hand and sighed.

No denial came. Only silence between us as he offered all the confirmation I needed.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, turning to look at where Ivory and Matteo watched in concern. Worry, but not surprise creased Ivory’s features.

She’d known. They’d all known.

I stumbled back a step as my heart cracked open in my chest. It felt like they could see me bleeding, like they could see the wounds they’d all inflicted with the secret that had the power to destroy me.

“I let you touch me,” I whispered, staring up at Scar. “The things I let you do to me…” I trailed off, raising a hand to my face to cover my mouth and fight back the swirling in my stomach.

I was going to be sick.

“Don’t you dare,” Scar snapped, that deep command in his voice doing nothing to tame the fury rising in me. He had control over me because I’d given it.

But I’d fucking take it all back now that I knew the truth.

“What happens between you and I has nothing to do with your mother,” he said, stepping closer to me.

“How could it possibly have ‘nothing’to do with my mother? You killed her!”

“I didn’t know you then! I didn’t even know she had a daughter at the time. All I knew was that she knowingly supplied the dealer with the dirty heroin that killed my fucking sister, Irina. She was another name on my list to avenge Cesca’s death. You can’t fault me for something I did before I knew you existed.”

“Would you change it?” I asked, the area around us going silent.

Nobody spoke. Nobody breathed. Waiting for his answer.

“No,” he said, shaking his head as he hung it forward.

I broke. All the pieces I’d thought he’d helped me fix crumbling until they landed on the pavement for everyone to see.

“Then I guess it doesn’t matter much if you didn’t know me then, does it? You wouldn’t have done anything differently anyway.”

“She’d already left you,” he said, as if that excused what he’d done.

“She was still my mother, and if you truly believed that you hadn’t done anything wrong, you wouldn’t have kept it from me. Was I ever supposed to know the truth?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head.

The wall between us made my heart hurt, made me curl my arms around myself for comfort. I’d thought I knew what it meant to be alone, to feel lonely in a crowded room.

I’d thought I found a place where I belonged.

Instead there was just more pain.

“You should have just let me die,” I whispered, watching as his face twisted and he clenched his jaw. “It would have hurt less than this.”

“Butterfly, I love you,” he said, stepping closer to me. I backed away again, shaking my head as Aoife stepped in at my side. I hadn’t even noticed her in the chaos, hadn’t seen her or Yavin.

“I don’t think you know what that word means. I guess you were right about that,” I scoffed.

“We have to go,” Matteo said, his stare falling on Scar. Scar nodded, something passing between the men as Matteo, Simon, Yavin, and a massive group of the others climbed into the SUVs parked in the driveway and disappeared.

My father was nowhere to be found. Removed from the chaos, along with my means of escape.

“Let’s go inside, love. You need to breathe,” Aoife said, wrapping her hands around my arm. She pulled me along with her, taking me back into the house. I heard Scar and Ivory following at our heels, my gaze snagging on Yavin’s as he followed after her.

I hoped he never lied to her.