I returned my gaze to his face, saw his grin widen. The darkness in his eyes reminded me who he was.
He tucked the gun into the back of his jeans before reaching into his pocket and taking something out.
I cocked my head to the side when he held it out to show me, not understanding right away.
“I have a key.”
It dawned on me that he held a key to my old house. To the house where my sister and niece lived.
“Isabella gave it to me.”
“I don’t understand.” But I did. I just hadn’t come to terms with it yet. I studied him, taking in his features, comparing them to Effie’s. Although she hadn’t inherited his blond hair, she had similar eyes, although hers were warm, innocent. The rest was Isabella, but there was one thing she shared with Dominic: that dimple in her right cheek. That was from her father.
No.
I had to stop this. What was I thinking? I was talking about my sister here. And Effie’s father could be anyone. It wouldn’t be him.
What about the tests?
Nothing was definitive, not yet.
And the key. Why did Isabella give him a key?
“You’re lying. My sister wouldn’t have given you a key.”
“Why not?”
“She hates you.”
He snorted then went to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. “Want one?”
“No.”
He leaned against the cabinet and watched me as he brought the tumbler to his lips and swallowed the deep amber liquid. I hoped it burned on the way down.
“What do you see in my brother?” he asked.
“What do you want, Dominic? What are you doing here?”
“He’s a puppet to our father. A weak little windup toy who does as he’s told. Who humiliated you. What in hell do you see in him?”
“I see his heart. I see what’s real behind the mask he puts on for you, for your father.”
At that he chuckled and poured himself another drink. “That’s fresh. Now Sergio,” he began, drinking deeply. “He was a man’s man. A man to be respected, like me. Even Franco Benedetti respected him.”
“And you think kidnapping his son makes you respectable? It makes you a monster. A weak, hateful monster.”
He laughed and stalked toward me. I forced myself to stand my ground, even when he stood only inches away, breathing whiskey on my face as his gaze roamed over my body. He looked me in the eye.
“Well then, you may need to actually open your eyes and see the other monsters much closer to home.”
A car pulled up outside, and I exhaled in relief. He stepped away just as a key turned in the lock, and Isabella walked into the house. She stopped in the doorway as soon as she saw him. They exchanged a look before she turned her gaze on me.
I watched her, then him, then her again.
And I was certain.
“What are you doing here?” she asked Dominic, her tone much too casual as she closed the door behind her.
“What, do you two compare notes or something?” he asked, finishing his drink and setting his glass down. “I’m hungry.” He went into the kitchen, leaving us alone.
“Izzy? What the hell is going on?”
She plopped her bag down on the coffee table and rubbed her eyes with her hands. She looked defeated in that moment, and I saw through the tough facade she put on more and more.
“Luke’s out of surgery,” she said, heading to where Dominic had left his glass, filling it with the same whiskey and drinking it down. “He’s going to make it.”
She stood quietly a moment before her body slumped, and she broke into sobs. I went to her and embraced her, the crutches tucked awkwardly under my arms. I held her so tight that she finally surrendered herself, letting herself go, weeping, hugging me back.
“I thought…I thought…God, if he died?” She sucked in a loud breath and wiped her eyes, leaning back. “I prayed, Lucia. I haven’t prayed in five years.” She shook her head. “I love him. I love him, and all I’ve done is hurt him.”
“Luke?” I was so confused.
She nodded, and we walked over to the sofa and sat down.
“He was adopted,” she started, as if that was what I was concerned about. “We’re not blood relatives.”
“I know, Izzy. God, I know. It’s okay. I don’t care. It’s fine.”
“I owe you an explanation. Multiple, probably.”
I nodded.
“Five years ago, more than that, actually, I met Dominic. It was accidental, nothing planned. I was seventeen. It was a party in the woods, and I didn’t know who he was. Same for him. He didn’t know me, and we didn’t exchange last names. It was just Dominic and Isabella. That’s all. We hit it off, and things got heated over the next few weeks. Months.”
“You still didn’t know who he was?” I didn’t believe that.
“By then we knew. Hell, by our third date, we knew. But there was something there. I don’t know what it was, maybe even the whole Romeo and Juliette with warring families and the romance of it all, the sneaking around, meeting in the woods, sitting under the stars. Just us. Together.”