I couldn’t.
I call Alessa mine, you see, because I was never very good at turning away from Sara, even if it meant I was selfish and someone was sure to hurt. If my end has come before my second son’s, then I am sure that some of my misdeeds will come to light. Joel’s paternity, for one.
He’s waited a long time for this.
I own that—him.
I tried.
I am not sorry. Not for him though I tried.
That woman gave me three children and I’ve not been able to claim even one of them. I was there to see their first steps, to give them my last name, and to provide for them in the best ways I could. I’ve loved them terribly … from afar and through their eyes, as a grandfather. Giving them more or admitting my wrongs would have put my family front row and center for Sara’s father’s anger and retribution, and for her shame. I’ve not been the boss forever, after all. I had a wife of my own to protect. Two women I adored that I couldn’t dishonour.
And then there’s Joel. Even bad men have good intentions. Joel never has.
I love my children, but I am not required to love their behavior.
I’ve tried, and you should know that. I tried to give Alessa what would make her smile and that was you. For a time, that meant ignoring the passing looks, late nights, and the closeness. It meant excusing your affections as innocent. It meant covering your lies when you were not very good at it.
Your father has never hidden his intentions. Not as well as he would like to think he has and certainly not as well as I’ve hidden mine. He would like to be higher and Alessa would never get you there. Even if she was the granddaughter of the Outfit’s boss.
If this letter has found you, my boy, I’ve failed to give Alessa what makes her smile.
I’m sorry.
Don’t be the next one who fails her, too.
—T. Trentini
Alessa should have stopped reading long before the end. She should have folded the letter back up the moment that sinking feeling in her stomach wouldn’t leave.
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
In a few hundred words, a couple of short minutes, her entire life was different.
Just like that.
Her mother lied.
Her grandfather lied.
Her
father
…
Alessa, shaking and with tears welling, roughly crammed the letter back inside the crumpled envelope.
Adriano knew. He’d gotten the letter, read it, and didn’t say a thing. Instead, he’d given it to her so that she could read it. Sure, he’d told her in a way, but it still pissed her off all the same.
He
knew
.
…
she smiled for you.
I have clearly failed.
Alessa couldn’t breathe. Her chest hurt and her heart ached.
I’ve loved them terribly … from afar.
Why?
Alessa shoved the letter into her pocket, ignoring the way her hands trembled and how her tears fought to fall. She desperately tried to correlate the man she knew as her grandfather to be her father. She couldn’t.
Peter Trentini raised her.
But her mother? Married, sleeping with her old lover, and lying all the same. She birthed children and passed them off as another man’s. It was foul and wrong. So fucking wrong.
Alessa grabbed her phone off the bed and dialed the first number she could think of. Because even if she was pissed, Adriano was still the only person she thought could withstand her confusion and anger.
“A little early for you to be calling back, isn’t it?”
“You knew,” Alessa said the moment Adriano picked up the call. “You knew and you gave me that fucking thing, knowing I would read it alone. That hurts. That makes you just like him. A goddamn
coward
, Adriano.”
“Whoa, hold up.”
Those three words froze Alessa’s blood in her veins. “Excuse me? Where do you get off doing that to me?”
“Lissa, stop,” Adriano growled.
“Why did you do that?” she cried.
Hurt was not a good enough word for what she felt. It could never be enough.
“Go. I’ll meet you in the car, Eve,” Adriano said, his voice faint. Then, he was back to the call in an instant. “I don’t know anything, Alessa. Talk to me.”
“The letter—”
“You read that?”
Alessa’s tears poured faster. “Yes.”
“Fuck, Lissa.”
Oh, no.
No
.
“You didn’t?” Alessa asked in a whisper.
“You interrupted me in the bathroom. I only saw the first couple of lines. I figured you would get the hint and keep it hidden for me. My father was way too interested in the fact I had been included in the Will. According to the lawyer who gave the letter to me, it was intended for my eyes only and I was to make sure it remained private. Lissa—”
“My life is wrong. It’s a lie.”
Adriano cleared his throat on the other end, asking, “How?”
“They lied to me.”
“Who?” he asked.
“My parents.”
“Peter and Sara?”
Alessa shook her head, knowing damn well he couldn’t see it. “No, Terrance and Sara. They’ve been doing this for years. They played a game around everyone else, and we were just products of it. Like fucking chess pieces. They moved us here and there as they saw fit to hide the awfulness of their lies.”
“Slow down,” Adriano murmured.
She couldn’t. “I was so pissed off at Joel because he called my mother a whore for her mistakes when she was younger, but he was right. Nothing he said was a lie, Adriano.”
Adriano grew quiet on the other end for longer than Alessa liked.
“Say something,” she demanded.
“Your father is …
was
Terrance.”
It wasn’t even a question.
“Yes.”
“Shit,” Adriano muttered.
“And that makes my mother a lying wh—”
“Don’t do that,” he interjected, his tone gentle and smooth. “Don’t ever do that to her or him, Lissa. You don’t get that right. I love you, pretty girl, all the way around the world and back but you don’t get to do that. You can’t possibly understand their situation or motives. Maybe it hurt and maybe it didn’t. Maybe they were selfish and wrong and foul. But you don’t get to say because they loved you. They always loved you.”
“But—”
“Deny it.”
Alessa couldn’t. “This hurts.”
“It will.” Adriano sighed before saying, “I want to read that. It was meant for me. Don’t get rid of it, please.”
Her guilt climbed higher. “I shouldn’t have opened it.”
“Yeah, well, I should have just kept it on me but it made me fucking edgy. Everything makes me edgy.”
Alessa swallowed hard. “Everything?”
A hint of a smile colored up Adriano’s words as he said, “Not you.”
Yeah, she knew there was a reason why she called him.
A knock on the bedroom door forced Alessa to end the call out of panic and nothing more.
Abriella’s voice on the other side made Alessa scowl. “Ready to head over to the other wing?”
“No,” Alessa said under her breath.
That meant facing her mother and father while pretending nothing was wrong. Alessa didn’t think she could do that.
“Alessa?” Abriella asked, knocking again.
“Coming.”
Alessa pushed the food around on her plate, keeping out of the light conversation flowing around the table between Peter, Sara, and Abriella.
Did her sister know the truth, too?
After all, Abriella had known about Joel’s paternity before Alessa did.
All through the dinner, conversation between the family members had been mundane and safe. There was no discussion of the Outfit and certainly no talk about Joel. It was almost like Alessa’s parents wanted to keep all that nonsense out and pretend like it wasn’t happening.
How in the hell was that even possible?
She also couldn’t help but watch her parents. She’d always thought Sara and Peter loved each other. Sara said she loved Peter. Alessa’s upbringing was filled with memories of her parents being happy, close, and always together.
They played their roles well.
Even when they didn’t have to, Alessa supposed.
“Alessa!”
Jerking her head up, Alessa met her mother’s gaze from across the table. “What?”
“I’ve called your name three times,” Sara said quietly.
Alessa’s gaze snapped between her mother, father, and then her questioning sister. “I …”
Need to get the hell out of here
, her mind finished when her mouth wouldn’t.
“Would it be all right if I headed back and say goodnight early?” Alessa asked.
Adriano’s words were still repeating heavily in the back of her mind:
Don’t do that to them
.
She understood why he said that. She knew that her life had been a good one with parents and grandparents who loved her dearly.
Their secrets, on the other hand, were an absolute killer.
“Is something wrong?” Peter asked. “I know you have a lot going on, Alessa, but we’re here to talk, sweetheart. What is the problem?”
“Everything,” Alessa muttered, pushing out from the table and standing.
Abriella cocked a brow. “Lissa?”
“Please, excuse me,” Alessa said, spinning on her heel to leave her uneaten food and confused family behind.
Alessa didn’t even make it to the locked corridor that separated the main wing of the Trentini mansion from her parents’ wing before Sara caught up with her.
“Alessa!” Sara grabbed her daughter’s arm and pulled hard enough to stop Alessa from opening up the door that was usually locked. “Hey, look at me.”
Alessa’s stare burned as she leveled it on her mother. “What else did you lie about?”
Sara jerked away from Alessa as if she’d been slapped. “I beg your pardon?”
“Do you really love Dad or have you gotten so used to lying every time you speak that even you believe it?”
“Alessa …”
“Was Abriella why everything changed one day?” Alessa asked, sneering. “Remember when you told me that, Mom? One day, everything changed. Was she why? Did you fuck up again like you did with Joel? Would Peter have known? Did you lie to get him closer, to make him believe? Was Abriella why?”
Alessa’s questions and accusations came out as a rapid fire assault. One after the other. Bang. Bang. Bang. She couldn’t stop the word vomit if she tried.
Sara stepped back from her daughter, pain and shame lighting up her familiar blue eyes. “Alessa, don’t you dare.”
Alessa scoffed.
Hard, loud, and rude.
She didn’t even care.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll keep your secrets. I have to, right? Otherwise, we’re all just stuck swimming in your pool of disgrace, soaking in your embarrassment. None of us deserve that, not even Joel.”
Sara’s tears began to spill, tracking lines over her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Yes,” Sara whispered, nodding. “But I loved him.”
Alessa laughed. “Which one?”
“Both.”
Christ.
Alessa couldn’t do this.
Sara didn’t give her the opportunity to run away a second time. Alessa watched as her mother turned and disappeared back down the corridor without another word. It was only then that Alessa noticed her sister standing at the far end with her arms crossed. Abriella said nothing. Alessa didn’t need her to. The look on Abriella’s face, an expression churned with confusion and pain, was more than enough. She hadn’t known.
She did now.
“Abriella …”
What could Alessa say? Her anger had spilled over. She’d clearly hurt her sister.
“You’re right,” Abriella said. “You need to get out of here.”
“I—”
“Joel’s gone. Don’t leave the property. I’ll cover for you if he comes home early.”
Alessa wasn’t sure what she should say. Abriella should’ve been angry, but she wasn’t.
“Thanks,” Alessa whispered.
“No,” Abriella murmured. “Thank you.”