The Fall(79)

“Well, can you get them to me in the next few days?” She folded her arms tightly against her chest. “You can keep the rest of the trust fund money.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” My eyes narrowed as I tracked her.

She was acting weird. Nervous. Evasive. And she was struggling with making eye contact. It didn’t take a genius to work out that there was more to it than was coming out of her mouth.

“Something happened while you were here?” I gauged her response. “With Catherine?”

Ding, ding, ding. We had a f*cking winner. Because the minute I’d strung that sentence together her eyes gave me all the confirmation I needed. She might have been trying to keep it locked down but her poker face sucked.

“No. Nothing.” She shrugged, continuing to play the game.

“Fine, nothing.” I smirked, stalking a little closer. “Catherine has a heart attack and you decide to go rogue. Sounds like it’s been a busy few days.”

I continued to move closer. Her eyes got wider as I closed the gap between us, but to her credit she didn’t take any more backward steps, holding her ground.

“Let me go, Michael.” She blinked, a long exhale pushing past her lips. “This is where you and I end.”

Any other time, the person on the other side of that conversation would have received a middle finger as I walked out the door. But Sofia had been different from the start. And now, well f*ck if I knew why I was so compelled, but walking away wasn’t an option. Not until I knew why. It wasn’t because I f*cked her. It wasn’t because I felt sorry for her either. And it sure as shit wasn’t out of a sense of duty.

“I’ll decide when it ends,” I breathed into her face. “And it doesn’t end here.”

She looked like she wanted to crumble; her arms twitched at her side while her eyes got glassy, but she stayed standing.

“I promised her,” she whispered. “I owe her.”

“Catherine? What do you owe her?” I asked, the extra words not getting us any closer to a clearer picture. “Tell me.”

“You. I need to save you.”

I’d heard the words, but they didn’t make sense. Like someone had given me an uppercut right to the jaw and rung my bell.

Me?

She needs to save me?

I wasn’t the one whose father had sanctioned her death just to cover his own ass. There was no one out there gunning for me. Well, no more than usual given my line of work.

“Sofia, I’m not the one who needs saving.”

“You do, more than you know.”

There was something different in her face. Something I hadn’t seen before and it made me five different shades of uncomfortable. It crawled up my skin, infecting me like a motherf*cking disease as I felt whatever self-control I had shatter into a million pieces.

“Look at me.” My hands grabbed her chin forcing her to look me in the eyes. “This is not someone you or anyone else can save. If there was any such thing as redemption, I’m beyond it.” I squeezed harder, my fingers bound to leave a mark in her pretty skin as I pushed her back against the wall. “So, if that’s the prayers you’re offering up, save your breath. Ain’t no one up there who’s listening.”

She struggled, trying to fight against my hand as I pinned her, the weight of my body holding her in place. “Now that we have straightened that out, tell me exactly what that f*cking bitch told you.”

Her eyes welled, her head shaking as I held her in place, her mouth clamped shut.

“Tell me.”

“Your mother. She wasn’t a nun.” The words came out in a rush, surprising us both, her chest heaving up and down as she took big gasps of air.

“So, who was she then?”

Her existence had meant so little to me for so long I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. It would change nothing. Except that now Sofia had said it, she looked like she instantly regretted it and I wasn’t about to let it go.

“Sofia. Who was my mother?”

“Michael, you’re hurting me.” Her nails bit into my skin as she tried to loosen my grip on her face. “Let go.”

“Say it.” The words coming out of my mouth barely sounded human anymore as my jaw locked.

“Rose Santini!” she yelled. “Franco’s first wife.”

My hand let go instantly as I stepped away from her, unsure of what the hell I’d heard.

“It’s true.” She coughed. “You’re Franco’s son.”

It made no sense.

No f*cking sense.

It couldn’t be true.

“There is no way Franco would have let her leave with his kid. The man is a sadistic * and he would have chained her to the bed if he had to. There’s no way, especially if she was married to him.”

“He didn’t know.” She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her middle like she was going to split apart. “She left before he found out. That’s why she was hidden in the convent. Why she was dressed as a nun. It was the only chance she had. She was trying to protect you. She loved—”

“Shut your f*cking mouth.” My fists white knuckled at my side, ready to UFC the wall if that was my only option. “Don’t you dare.”

I couldn’t keep still. My nerves jangled as heat rose up my spine, making my skin feel too tight against my bones. I wasn’t sure what pissed me off more, the lies coming out of her mouth or that she’d convinced herself that they were true.