The Kiss Thief(93)

I munched on my lower lip. My father had murdered Wolfe’s brother and then his adoptive parents. He then tried to assassinate him right after burning down an entire pub just to get rid of Wolfe’s briefcase.

Yet Wolfe never striked back.

And it wasn’t as if he was incapable of ruining my father.

“I’m guessing the answer is me,” I said. She was relentless.

Ms. Sterling smiled, leaning forward. I thought she was going to pat my thigh as she often did, but no. She clutched onto my cheek, forcing me to look into her eyes.

“You took a hammer and broke down his walls, brick by brick. I watched as they collapsed, how he scrambled to try and rebuild them every time he left your room. Your love story was no fairy tale. More like a witch tale. Wicked and real and painful. I swooned when he began to seek you out in the house. When I noticed he was spending less time in his office and more time in the garden. I was thrilled when he gave you gifts, took you places, and showed you off, barely able to contain his joy every time you entered his vicinity. And I must admit, I was relieved to see him breaking down in your room, devastated and guilt-stricken, when he found your pregnancy test in your pillowcase.”

My head reared back, and I shot her a helpless glance.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Her eyes crinkled with naked joy.

He knew. They both knew. Yet Wolfe still hadn’t come for me. Contradicting, fierce emotions of excitement, dread, and fear stunned me into silence.

“Francesca?” Ms. Sterling probed, nudging my hand. I ducked my head down, not daring to see what was on her face.

“It doesn’t matter. Too many things have happened. I cheated on him, and he cheated on me.”

“Love is stronger than hate.”

“How can he love me after all the bad blood between our families?” My head shot up, tears clinging to my lower lashes. “He can’t.”

“He can,” Ms. Sterling insisted. “Forgiving is one of his more beautiful virtues.”

“Right.” I snorted out a laugh. “Tell that to my father.”

“Your father never asked for forgiveness. But I did. And Wolfe? He forgave me.”

She put her tea down and straightened her spine, delivering the information with a schooled chin and a steady voice.

“I’m Wolfe Keaton’s biological mother. A recovering alcoholic who was too busy drinking herself to death to fix my son dinner on the night he watched his brother, Romeo, get shot to death by your father. After that happened, the Keatons took him. I couldn’t fight the system, and Romeo’s death shook me out of my addiction. I went to rehab, and after I completed my time in the facility, I trickled back into Wolfe’s life—his real name is Fabio, by the way. Fabio Nucci.” She smiled, looking down. “At first, he wanted nothing to do with me. He was blind with anger about my alcoholism, getting thrown into the system, and about how I couldn’t bring myself to fix him dinner so he dragged his brother to Mama’s Pizza. But as time passed, he allowed me back into his life. His adoptive parents hired me as his live-in nanny even though he was a pre-teen. They just wanted us to be together. After they were killed in that explosion…” She sucked in a breath. Tears glittered in her eyes when she spoke of her late employers. “It was two years after I completed my work at the Keatons. When Wolfe turned eighteen. I was working at Sam’s Club when he rehired me to run his mansion. He is taking care of me more than I’m taking care of him after I betrayed him in the worst possible way. I wasn’t able to protect him and his brother from the cruel neighborhood they grew up in.”

I sat back, digesting.

Ms. Sterling was Wolfe’s mother. Biological mother.

That was why she loved him so dearly.

That was why she begged me to be patient with him.

That was why she drove us into each other’s arms. She wanted her son to have the happy ending his brother never got.

“His brother was married.” I sucked in a breath, collecting all the pieces, fitting them into the screwed-up puzzle my father had created. “He had a wife.”

“Yes. Lori. They were having fertility issues.” Ms. Sterling nodded. “Went through several IVF treatments. Then she finally got pregnant. She lost the baby when she was six months in, the day after they delivered the news that her husband had died.”

That was why Wolfe didn’t want any children.

It was also why he knew so much about ovulation and when to have sex. He didn’t want the heartache, though heartache was all he knew. He’d lost the people he cared about the most, one by one, and all by the same man. It felt like someone ripped my chest open with a knife and watched as my organs poured out of me.

I plastered a hand over my mouth, willing my pulse to slow down. It was neither good for me nor for the baby. But the truth was scandalizing and too harsh to digest. That was why Wolfe didn’t want me to know—he knew I’d hate myself for the rest of my life for what my father did. Hell, I wanted to throw up right now.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” I said.

Ms. Sterling nodded. “Give him a chance. He is far from perfect. But who is?”

“Ms. Sterling…” I hesitated, glancing around us. “I’m devastated over your revelations, but I don’t think Wolfe wants a second chance. He knows that I’m here and that I’m pregnant, and he still hasn’t showed up. He hasn’t even called.”