We glared at each other for a long moment. Vaguely, I was aware of Frankie murmuring something about the Lombardi women stare and shuddering comically.
“You’re right,” I muttered finally, feeling peevish but knowing I was wrong. My sigh was a long ribbon of sorrow. “Some things are just difficult to tell.”
“Yes,” she agreed, her face softening with pleased surprise.
I didn’t blame her for that. Even six months ago, I wouldn’t have capitulated so gracefully to any kind of blame. My defensiveness was almost legendary.
“No more.” The words were a promise as I extended my hand to her and linked our fingers. “Insieme sempre.”
She smiled at the word we’d used in our youth to symbolize our bond as siblings. “Insieme, Elena mia.”
We walked to the table holding hands loosely. The men were already seated, but both Alexander and Dante stood to pull out chairs for Cosima and I.
It was only when his scent hit my nose that I realized what I had forgotten.
I froze then slowly swiveled my head to look up at Dante whose own face was carefully, uncharacteristically blank.
“You knew about this.”
His slow blink was the most eloquent expression.
I pushed back from the table even though he tried to cage me in.
“No,” I growled, ducking out from under his arm and backing away from him as I lifted a trembling finger of accusation. “You knew this? How could you not tell me?”
“It wasn’t exactly my secret,” he tried to explain calmly, opening his palms to the sky in benediction.
But this new Elena was still too tenuous, this thing between us so fresh, we had barely taken off the plastic.
“You lied to me.” I wanted the words to be a shout, an accusation, but they fell waterlogged to the floor between us where we both stared at them.
He was a capo. Of course, lying came easily to him, it was essential to his survival. But…I’d believed him when he told me he was the most honest men I’d ever meet because almost every action up until now had proved exactly that.
Now, though, my mind was reeling.
Keeping the knowledge that Cosima was Tore’s daughter from me felt like such an obvious betrayal.
My gaze swept around the table, tracking Alexander and Frankie’s expressions.
“You all knew,” I concluded hollowly, holding up a hand when Dante stepped toward me. “Everyone in this house knew, didn’t they? And I’ve just been wandering around like an oblivious stronza.”
“No, do not say that,” Dante snapped.
He was coiled with energy, ready to spring at me, to force me to listen to his reason.
I didn’t want to.
That old, bitter self-loathing flooded my veins like water through a broken damn.
“What else are you keeping from me?” I whispered, the words too hot in my cold mouth. “Do really intend to marry Mirabella? You’ll just keep me as some mistress on the side because you know I love you enough to stick around? You’re wrong, Dante, I could never do that. I won’t watch you kiss another woman, have kids with anyone, but me.”
My voice wasn’t hysterical, but ice word was increasingly cold, dry as liquid nitrogen.
“Elena, do not jump to fantastical conclusions,” he ground out. He lunged forward slightly to grab my hand, he grip tender but firm. “I haven’t lied to you about anything. I just kept this secret from you because Cosima and Tore asked me to.”
“And you put them first. I understand.”
And I did.
I thought, for once, I’d found someone who would love me best, but once again love had proved me foolish and naïve.
“He doesn’t feel that way about her anymore,” Tore interjected. “It’s obvious to everyone with eyes that he’s never felt this way about anyone before.”
My eyes clicked closed slowly like a stuttering camera shutter.
There was something there.
He doesn’t care about her like that anymore.
My breath caught in my throat and solidified, choking me. There was wet in my eyes and horror painted onto every inch of my face when I looked between Cosima and Dante.
His face was set in stone, giving away nothing.
Which was how I knew.
Dante had an animated face, a mobile mouth and depthless eyes that usually gave away his emotions.
He’d shut down because once, however long ago, maybe even still, he’d been in love with my sister.
There was an ear-splitting, earth rumbling sound in my ears as a crater opened in my chest and my failing heart fell into my stomach.
“You loved her?” I whispered so quietly, he had to read my lips.
“No, never like this.” He tugged me closer by the hand, gripping my chin tightly in the other so his ink dark eyes were all I could see. They were filled with a frenzied passion, so intense they burned. “Once, maybe, I thought of more, but never ever came of it. Cosima was always in love Alexander. And now I know how sciocco I was because the way I love you makes the possibility of ever having loved someone else or ever loving anyone else again impossible.” He wrenched the hand he still possessed onto his chest over his heart. “You own me, Elena. You and only you.”