She cocked a dark brow. “Dante might call himself Salvatore now, but he’s still a Davenport. When they see something they want, they don’t only take it, they make it their irrevocably in every way they know how.”
That sounded like Dante.
My sister got up, waiting for me when I hesitated.
But something had caught in my mind, jostling loose a collection of fragments I’d been collecting since my time in Italy.
“Why did you say Villa Rosa was named after Mama?” I asked slowly, because the truth was I didn’t really need an answer.
Everything was falling into place like a tumbling row of dominos.
Cosima wrung her hands then caught herself when I stared at the tell.
“I shouldn’t have said that.” When I only leveled her with a cool stare, she sighed. “You should really ask Salvatore.”
“I think I should ask my sister,” I said slowly, each word deliberate. “You know, Sebastian came to visit me after my surgery. We had a good talk and we decided that secret keeping was corrode this family. I think that stops now, Cosima.”
She winced. “You know I can’t disobey when you use that voice.”
I didn’t even blink when she looked at me beseechingly.
“Okay, come on, walk and talk.”
I got up, but didn’t take the hand she offered me. Old wounds, scars of betrayal, flared up, making my skin hot and cold all over.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until she started to speak in low, fast, but fluid tones. “Amadeo Salvatore and Mama had an affair decades ago, twenty-three years ago to be exact. Sebastian and I are a result of that.”
If she expected me to freak out and throw something like a child with a tantrum, she was sorely mistaken. I only blinked at her behind my icy mask and waited for her to go on.
“It was brief and passionate affair. Apparently, they wanted to run away together, but one day, Tore’s enemies got hold of Mama when she was pregnant with Seb and me. It scared her out of being with him. She stayed with Seamus and never told Tore about the pregnancy. Tore left town and didn’t find out about us until years later when he came back to Naples and became capo dei capi.”
“That’s why he interfered with Seamus,” I said flatly, everything locked into its rightful place. “You have his eyes, those tiger yellow eyes I’ve never seen on anyone else. I should have connected the dots sooner.”
“It’s not exactly something you’d look for.”
We had crossed the lawn, but stood at the edge of the stone terrace, speaking in hushed voices while Frankie, Tore, Dante, and Xan set the table for lunch with patters of charcuterie and baskets of fresh bread, red bowls of gazpacho like blood at each setting.
“So, you aren’t my sister,” I said as I digested the news, my stomach growling then cramping around the weight of the truth.
“I am. Of course, I am,” she snapped, stepping forward with anger tightening her pretty face. “Do not ever say that to me again.”
“I’m not saying it because we have different fathers,” I said, watching each word cut into her flesh. “I’m saying it because you’ve been keeping so many secrets from me, I feel like I don’t even know you right now.”
“And you?” she countered, fisting her hands on her hips. “I show up in Naples because I’ve read in the paper my best friend has fled the country and only when I called Tore did he tell me that you were here with him. I may have been keeping secrets longer, Lena, but don’t be a hypocrite. You’re just as culpable here.”
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.”