“Are you sure I look okay?” I rub my hands down the front of my dress, wondering if I should’ve worn something else.
“For the hundredth time, you look stunning, and my mother is going to love you.”
“Your mother,” I breathe. I’m going to meet his mother. “And you’re sure your dad isn’t going to be here? Not that I don’t want to meet your dad,” I explain. “I’m just not sure I’m ready for that.”
The other night when Rex dropped the bomb about his father, I couldn’t even be upset. It was easy for me to tell him I understood, because I truly do understand. He doesn’t know how alike we are.
The real fear for me came because I don’t know what sort of connection Sal had to my father, and whether or not he would recognize me. I tried to remember if I’d ever heard his name, but I kept drawing a blank.
I have no reason to believe he would recognize me. I’ve been gone from the area for almost fifteen years, but you just never know. It crossed my mind to come clean to Rex, tell him who I am. Bianca DiMarco. But then I remembered Bianca DiMarco was a witness to her father’s murder, and right now I can’t take the chance of anyone finding that out.
“I promise you, he won’t be here. He’s in Florida for business.” Taking my hands in his, Rex leans down and gives me a reassuring kiss. “Relax, baby. My mother is going to love you, and she’s probably the sweetest person you’ll ever meet.”
I doubt that. My mother is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.
“Okay.” I blow out a breath and nod. “Let’s do this.”
Laughing, Rex rings the doorbell, and a moment later the front door swings open.
“About time you two showed up,” Dante says, shutting the door behind us. “Shae, you look beautiful as always.”
I shoot Dante a wink. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“Get your own fucking girl,” Rex says, playfully shoving his brother. “Where’s Mom?”
“I heard that,” a woman yells from the other room. “Why do I feel like I’m constantly telling you boys to watch your language?” she asks as she walks around the corner, a dish towel flung over her shoulder.
Her dark brown eyes catch mine, and for a split second I swear I see her breath hitch and her step falter, but she covers herself well, plastering on a welcoming smile and heading straight toward me.
“And you must be Shae,” she says, drawing me into a hug. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
I look up at Rex, and he just smiles.
“All good things, I hope.”
“Of course, darling.” She pulls back, holding on to my upper arms. “So beautiful. Welcome.”
“Thank you. And it’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Rex speaks very highly of you.”
She offers Rex a warm smile. “My boys are too good to me.”
“When will dinner be ready?” Dante asks.
She steps back. “Always hungry. These two nearly ate me out of house and home when they were growing up. Come on, I just pulled the chicken out of the oven.”
Dante follows his mother, and Rex and I lag behind.
“See? I told you you’d do great,” he whispers.
“You were right.”
He leans in close. “What was that?”
“I said you were right.”
“I still didn’t hear you.”
Rolling my eyes, I push past him as he laughs.
My mouth waters as soon as we hit the kitchen. “This smells fantastic.”
“Thank you.” Rex’s mom sets a large dish in the middle of the table. “Baked chicken with a mushroom and provel cheese sauce and green beans.”
“I think I gained a pound just staring at it.”
“Wait until you taste it. Rex, would you grab a bottle of wine from the refrigerator?”
“What can I do?” I ask.
“Nothing, dear. You are our guest. Please, have a seat.”
Rex pours each of us a glass of wine, stopping to kiss my cheek as he passes by. When I blink up at him, I catch a glimpse of his mom watching us, but she quickly turns away.
“I hope your mom likes me,” I whisper.
“She loves you. I can already tell.” Rex drops another kiss to my forehead before corking the wine and placing it back in the refrigerator.
Once we’re all settled, we say a quick prayer and dig into the food.
We fall into easy conversation. Rex’s mother asks me a few surface questions about how I’m liking Chicago and working for Josalyn, but that’s it. She spends the rest of the time telling me stories about Dante and Rex growing up. By the time we’re done eating dinner, I’m certain I’ve got a few embarrassing stories I can hang over each of their heads if needed, and Mrs. Ambrosi has even offered to get me pictures to back them up.
“You’re evil,” Dante says, grabbing his empty plate, along with his mother’s, and walking them to the sink.
“Us girls have to stick together. Isn’t that right, Shae?”
“Absolutely.” I wipe my mouth and set the napkin on the table.
“You done, baby?” Rex asks.
“I couldn’t eat another bite if I tried. I’m stuffed. The meal was delicious, Mrs. Ambrosi.”
Her beautiful face lights up, and now I see where Rex gets it. He has her smile and her beautiful eyes. “Please, call me Isabella.”
“Call her Isa,” Dante says, sitting back down at the table. “That’s what everyone else calls her.” Bending down, he places a kiss on her cheek, but his mother’s wide eyes are locked on mine.
“Isa,” I say, rolling the name around on my tongue. Not Isa with a long I, but with a long E.
Oh, God.
No.
My body stiffens as everything drops into place, and I can see it on Isabella’s face. She knows I know, and thanks to her son no less, who called her by her nickname. Otherwise I’m not sure I would’ve put two and two together as quickly—if at all.
I suck in a sharp breath as my stomach rolls.
Isa’s lips tighten, her eyes silently pleading with me to keep my mouth shut, which is fine because if I open it there’s a good chance I’ll throw up.
Isa is Rex’s mother.
The words from the letter play over and over in my head.
My dearest Isa,
Time has not been our friend, neither has fate. But you have my love, always, as does our son. Please give me more time. I know you’re anxious to get this over with, as am I, but please let me do this the right way. I hate the way things have unraveled but right now I must think of your safety as well as the safety of my children.
Love Always,
Luca
Our son.
Our son.
Our son.
Oh my gosh, Rex is Isa’s son.
My head swivels toward Rex as I search his face for pieces of my father.
Pieces of me.
“Shae.” Brows dipped low, Rex places a hand on my mine, and I pull my arm back. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head because I still can’t find words, and he reaches for me again.
“Shae, you’re scaring me.”
“Rex, sweetheart,” Isa says. “Why don’t you get Shae a glass of water.”
Sweetheart.
Sweetheart.
Sweetheart.
She’s his mother.
Which means he’s my brother.
Oh, God, I’m going to be sick.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
Rex points down the hall. My stomach dips and turns like a rollercoaster, and before he can verbally respond, I fly up from my chair and run.
Flinging the door open, I drop to my knees in front of the toilet. The tile is cool against my heated skin, and I lean forward as my stomach heaves, expelling my dinner.
A dinner I had with my brother right after I fucked him.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push the thought from my head.
I fucked my brother.
My stomach heaves again, this time bringing with it a wave of tears, and I choke back a sob.
The bathroom door flies open, and a delicate hand lands on my back. I don’t know whether to be relieved or pissed that it’s Isabella and not Rex, but right now I’m facing the lesser of two evils, because how in the world am I supposed to look Rex in the eye again?
“Don’t touch me,” I cry, and she pulls her hand back as though I might bite her. A second later a cool, wet cloth wraps around my neck.
“Shae, I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well.”
I narrow my eyes. “Cut the shit, Isabella.”
Her lips pinch together in a thin line. She watches me for a moment, as if she’s trying to read my mind.
“I know it was you. You sent me that letter. You had an affair with my dad”—and the very worst part—“and he’s my fucking brother!”
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I know this is a shock for you. We have so many things to talk about, and we will talk about them, but right now I need you to hold yourself together because Dante is out there—”
“Hold myself together?” I yell.
Isa’s eyes dart toward the door, and she places a finger over her lips. “Please. Please, Shae, keep your voice down. This is not how I wanted you or my boys to find out.”
“Tell me how the hell I’m supposed to keep myself together,” I whisper-hiss, “when I’ve been fucking my brother!”
She jumps back. “You’ve slept with Dante?”
“What? No!”
“Oh, Shae,” she says softly. “No. No, sweetheart, you haven’t slept with your brother. Rex is not your brother.”
“He’s not?”
My stomach twists again, but this time I don’t have the urge to throw up.
“It’s Dante,” she whispers. “Dante is your brother.”
Oh, thank God.
My body sags in relief and happiness and grief as the weight of her words descends on my shoulders. My eyes shoot to the bathroom door. Dante is my brother. My flesh and blood. My living, breathing relative, and he’s right out there.
Everything I’ve longed for and dreamed of is right behind that door—and I’m not just talking about my brother.
“You can’t tell him,” she whispers.
“What do you mean I can’t tell him? Of course I’m going to tell him. He’s my brother. He’s a part of me and a part of my father.”
Then, in a flash, all the tiny things about Dante I’ve noticed over the past few weeks snap into place—the sidelong glance he gave me that reminded me of my father, his loud, boisterous laugh and over-the-top personality. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.
“I know this is shocking and scary and probably a little exciting for you. But please, please think of my boys. This will devastate them. This will tear my family apart.”
“But isn’t that what you wanted?” I ask, remembering my father’s words to her. “You wanted Dante to know my father was his father.”
She nods. “You’re right. I did. But that was before your father’s death. I can’t fight my husband on my own. If he finds out Dante isn’t his son, he’ll have me killed, and I don’t even want to think about what he’ll do to Dante.”
“You were willing to risk that fourteen years ago.”
“I loved your father, Shae. I would’ve done anything to be with him—”
“Does that include killing my mother?” I’m slightly pacified by the look of horror on her face.
“No. Absolutely not. I would never do that to your mother. Elena was a wonderful woman.”
“But you slept with her husband.”
Her eyes drop to the floor. “I’m not proud of what I did.”
“Then why do it?” I yell.
Her eyes find the door again, and I take a deep breath. If I want her to keep talking, I have to stay calm.
“Why did you sleep with my father when he was happily married to my mother?”
“Because he wasn’t happily married,” she says nervously. “They went through a rough patch after Camilla was born, and I hated my husband. I hated the way he treated me, and I hated the way he treated Rex.”
She shakes her head. “Your father and I grew up together. We were neighbors. He was my best friend, and at one time I thought I would marry him. But that’s not how this life works. I was promised to Sal, and I had no choice in the matter. Your father and I eventually went our separate ways. He married your mother, and I lived in a proverbial hell for years until one day…”
Her words trail off, and I wait with bated breath.
A loud knock sounds on the door, followed by someone jiggling the handle. Thank God she had the sense to lock it when she followed me in because I’m not sure what Rex and Dante would think if they walked in right now. And I can’t promise I’d keep my mouth shut.
“Give me a second,” I holler, trying to pacify Rex because I know in another minute he’ll be knocking down the door just to make sure I’m okay.
“Shae, baby, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just need a minute.”
“Okay.” He pauses, probably trying to decide whether or not to barge in anyway. I breathe a sigh of relief when he says, “I’ll be right out here if you need me.”
“Rex, sweetheart, could you and Dante run and get Shae some Pepto?”
He huffs from the other side of the door, clearly not wanting to leave while I’m still in here. Finally, he concedes. “I’ll be right back.”
When I turn back to Isabella, she has tears running down her cheeks, but I try my hardest not to let them affect me.
“Until one day what?” I ask, needing her to finish the story.
She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “One day I ran into your father at the country club. We had lunch, which was incredibly risky. I was the wife of a boss, having lunch with another boss. But I knew he was upset—I could see it on his face—and no way was I walking away from him that day. Anyway, we had lunch, and he told me that Elena was asking for a divorce. He was devastated—”
“I don’t remember that,” I say, trying to remember a time when my parents didn’t live together.
“You wouldn’t. You weren’t alive yet.”
Oh.
“Your mother took Camilla and moved in with her parents. She filed for legal separation, something you don’t just do in this life—not without a damn good reason and a million repercussions.”
I don’t need her to explain what this life is. It’s the mafia. They live and breathe by their own set of rules, and if you act outside them, it could mean your life.
“After that, your father and I started talking in secret. We would meet up when we could, and I promise you, at first it was innocent. We were old friends who could confide in each other. He listened to me cry about Sal, and I listened to him talk about Elena. As time passed, we grew closer, and one night…”
She clears her throat. “I’ll spare you the details, but one night we were intimate, and that’s when I got pregnant with Dante. By that time, he and your mother had been separated for over a year, and there were rumors that your father’s family had put a hit out on Elena. There’s no way they were going to let her walk away from your father—from them. She knew too much, and they didn’t trust her.”
Her eyes go misty as she looks at me. “Your father was a good man, and he didn’t want that for your mother, so he did what he had to do. She and Camilla moved back in. He had to show his family they had reconciled and that all was good so they would lift the hit. And it worked. He loved your mother very much, Bianca.”
My breath hitches, and I have to look away. No one has called me Bianca since the day my father was murdered.
“But he loved you more,” I state, meeting her gaze.
She nods, wiping a tear from her face. “We wanted to be together. I was insistent that it be sooner rather than later, but your father was born and raised in this life. He knew it would be damn near impossible for us to make it work. But he promised he would find a way. But that day never came.”
“Is that why he’s dead? Did someone find out about you two?”
“I honestly don’t know.” She shakes her head and shrugs. “As far as I know, no one ever found out. We were extremely careful, and I didn’t tell a soul. And he was murdered years after our affair.”
I sit with my back pressed against the tub, absorbing everything she’s told me. My head is spinning with information, going over timelines, trying to fit together the missing pieces, and then it hits me.
“What about me?”
“What about you?” she says.
“I was born after your affair.”
Isabella leans back against the tub, mimicking my position. “I can’t speak for your father, but I know he loved Elena. He loved us both, and I can’t imagine how hard that was. I’ve always wondered if he really did try to make things work with her again. And not just as a show for his family, but for Camilla, or maybe for Elena.”
“You sent me the letter, didn’t you?”
She nods.
“Why, Isabella? Why now after all these years?”
“I have cancer, Shae.”
Oh, wow.
“I haven’t told the boys yet, so I would appreciate it if you kept that information to yourself. I’m going to tell them, it just has to be the right time. I don’t know how this is going to play out, and I wanted to get you into Dante’s life. If something happens to me, I want him to know who his father is and the family he rightfully belongs to.”
“He belongs to Rex. He’s an Ambrosi, Isabella.”
As much as it pains me to say that, as much as I would love Dante to take on the DiMarco name, I know what it would do to Rex.
“You’re right, he is, and nothing will change that. They will always be brothers. But I would really like for him to get to know his sister as well. I’m hoping you can tell him how amazing his father was.”
Overwhelmed, I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling.
“I kept tabs on you because you’re Dante’s sibling. I have an old friend of a friend who works for the government. That’s how I was able to find you. I wish I could’ve done something to get you away from the Blacks, but my hands were tied. I couldn’t risk it. For all I knew, your father’s murderer had the same connections as me and knew who you were and where you were. I couldn’t risk your life by drawing attention to it.”
As fucked up as her explanation is, I get it.
“Is my life in danger now?”
“I honestly don’t know. I have no reason to believe it is, but in this world, you can never be sure.”
I blow out a breath, looking down at my hands.
“You look so much like your mother,” Isabella says softly. “Your parents would be so proud of the woman you’ve become.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, choosing to stay silent because my thoughts are racing around so fast I can’t seem to get them in order. Several moments pass.
“Now what? How am I supposed to go back out there and look Dante in the eye without seeing my father? Without wanting him to know who I am? How am I supposed to go to bed with Rex tonight and lie to him when he asks me what happened?”
“I hate that I’m asking you to stay silent. It isn’t fair to you, and it isn’t fair to my boys, but I have to figure out a way to do this without anyone getting hurt.”
“You mean without anyone getting murdered.”
“This is a fucked-up life we live, Shae. It’s not pretty, and it sure as hell isn’t easy, but one thing I’ve learned is that family means everything. Blood means everything. And I will find a way for this to work out. I just need you to give me more time.”
Ambrosi blood doesn’t run through Dante’s veins, DiMarco blood does. But does that mean that if push came to shove, if someone figured out who I am, Dante would protect me? And what happens if Sal Ambrosi wages war with me? What will Rex do?
The questions running through my head prove to be too much. Right now I just want to go home so I can process all of this.
“You’re running out of time, Isabella.”
“Shae,” Rex calls. The door handle jiggles again. “Unlock the door.”
Isabella places a hand on my shoulder, and I jerk away. She pushes to her feet, unlocks the door, and sticks her head through the crack.
“She’s fine, sweetheart. The food just didn’t agree with her. Give her a second to freshen up.”
“Let me in, Mother.”
I hear some shuffling, and next thing I know I’m lifted into Rex’s strong, warm, familiar arms.
“I’m taking you home,” he says against the side of my head.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lean against his chest, grateful that I have someone to take care of me.
“Did she bring in a purse?” Dante asks.
“No. It’s in the car. Can you get the door?” Rex asks, striding through the house as though I’m light as feather.
The door opens and a gentle hand strokes the top of my head. “Feel better, pretty girl.”
I blink up at Dante. His warm eyes are so tender and kind. How did I not see it before? The high cheekbones, thick brow, and the gold flecks that sparkle in his dark brown eyes. I want nothing more than to reach out to him, pull him into my arms, and beg him to be part of my life.
My lips part, prepared to say something, but the moment passes as Rex rushes from the house, intent on getting me home.