“Her hand, there’s a small star tattoo. An ex-girlfriend of mine had one. Joseph used to make me date the daughters of the mob bosses so he could gain intel on them.”
“Makes sense. Polina was able to withstand everything I did to her, even until the end.”
“So does that mean you don’t believe her?” I ask her as she comes and sits next to me.
“About you or Dante?” she asks.
I turn to her, putting my arms around her shoulders, drawing her close. “All of it,” I say, letting out a long breath. Polina said some fucked up shit about my father—my biological father. I don’t know whether to throw up or fuck something up.
“She was lying about Dante. She was just trying to confuse me,” she says, leaning back, resting her head on my chest.
“So do you think she was lying about me?” I say, quietly.
“Who the fuck knows.”
“But it makes sense if what Byron said was true about my parents.”
She looks up at me. “Byron said your parents had to give you up to cover a scandal. That doesn’t sound like something a head of the Italian mob would do. And that doesn’t explain your sister.”
I nod at her. She’s right. The bitch had to be lying.
“I think there were girls who had babies from Joseph’s prostitution ring. And that agency used them to solidify ties with highly influential people who were desperate for children, or at least blackmail them.”
According to Polina, my father’s illegal prostitution ring fuelled an even darker secret—a black market adoption agency. Just the thought of it makes me uneasy. I should have burned his business to the ground the moment I inherited it.
“Do you think your mother was one of the girls in the prostitution ring?” Viola asks, breaking me out of my dark thoughts. “I could ask Quinn to look,” she says after a pause when I don’t say anything.
I’m saved from answering by the dip of headlights as a car turns into the clearing. It’s the Mustang.
I stand up, offering my hand to her. “Come on, let’s burn this shithole to the ground a second time. I still have nightmares about this place.”
“Nightmares?” she lifts a brow.
I roll my eyes at her with a smirk. “And fucking wet dreams, alright.”
“I was never going to kill you, you know,” she snorts, taking my hand.
“Good,” I say, hauling her to her feet, groping her ass as I devour those sweet lips. “Because I was always going to fuck you.”