Chapter 8
Bianca stopped defending herself.
For almost a minute.
Then she lifted her chin.
“You want to know why?”
Vittorio waited.
“Because Elena was going to destroy Marcus.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed.
“Bianca.”
She ignored him.
“She had enough financial records to remove him from every operation you controlled.”
Vittorio looked at Marcus.
He did not deny it.
Bianca continued.
“And Marcus was drowning.”
Debt.
Bad investments.
Quiet loans.
Promises made to the wrong people.
Nothing large enough to collapse the Romano organization.
Enough to destroy Marcus personally.
Elena found out.
“She wanted you to cut him loose,” Bianca said.
“And you chose him.”
“He’s my brother.”
Her voice cracked for the first time.
There.
The motive.
Not greed alone.
Blood.
Fear.
Loyalty twisted into something uglier.
Vittorio watched her eyes.
“You punished Lucy because she saw him in Elena’s study.”
Bianca swallowed.
“Yes.”
Emma covered her mouth.
Marcus looked at his sister as though he wanted her to stop.
Bianca continued anyway.
“She kept saying she saw him coming out. I needed her to stop before you started asking questions.”
“She's three.”
“I know.”
Vittorio’s voice dropped.
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“You knew exactly how old she was when you put her on the floor.”
Bianca's breathing broke.
Yet she still found something to fight with.
“Elena used Lucy too.”
Vittorio’s expression changed.
“She planned to take your daughter away to force you to choose.”
Vittorio said nothing.
Bianca pressed.
“She knew you wouldn't change unless losing Lucy became real.”
The statement hurt because it sounded possible.
Then Marcus spoke.
“She wasn't wrong.”
Vittorio turned.
Marcus’s mouth curved.
For the first time since the breakfast room, he had regained a fraction of control.
“Your wife knew fear was the only thing that moved you.”
Silence.
Vittorio walked toward him.
Marcus straightened.
Expecting violence.
Vittorio stopped inches away.
Then stepped past him.
Marcus’s confidence flickered.
Vittorio picked up the dog bowl from the floor.
He carried it to the sink.
Emptied it.
Washed his hands.
Nobody understood why.
Then he said:
“Elena left four recordings.”
Bianca looked toward him.
Vittorio dried his hands.
“We've heard two.”
The lab technician had warned that the third file contained another voice.
Not Elena.
Not Bianca.
Marcus went still.
May you like
Vittorio looked at him.
“Yours.”
