All I Believe (Firsts and Forever, #10)(57)

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Later that night, we were both reading on the couch, bundled up with a fluffy blanket. Luca’s head was on my chest, and his arm was draped across my stomach while I embraced him. He’d put his own book aside and was reading from mine. It was incredibly cozy, and I was filled with a wonderful sense of well-being. I could easily imagine a thousand more nights exactly like this one. I could imagine a lifetime.

It was peaceful, too. The only sounds were the wood crackling in the fireplace and the ever-present rhythm of the waves meeting the shore, muted from our cliff-top vantage point. I’d stopped reading, but kept advancing the pages on my e-reader with a flick of my thumb, because Luca was engrossed in the mystery. Watching him was far more interesting than the story.

The sound of a distant car engine caught my attention after a while. It was always so quiet at the cliff house that it stood out. “Who do you think that could be?” I asked. It was definitely getting closer.


“No clue.”

“I’d better get dressed,” I said as I rolled off the couch, since I wore only a pair of briefs. Luca got up too. He was wearing pajama pants, and put on a hoodie that was draped over the back of a chair.

I went upstairs and pulled on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a crew-neck sweater. By the time I was tying the laces on my sneakers, the car had parked in front of the house. A minute later, I heard yelling outside and rushed back downstairs and out the front door. Luca’s fists were clenched at his sides, and he was facing off against a tall, muscle-bound man of about thirty-five with light brown hair and a square jaw, dressed in a dark suit that seemed barely able to contain his huge shoulders. I looked from one to the other and asked, “What’s going on?”

The large man turned to face me. He seemed familiar, but I didn’t know why. “Get your things,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”

“Like hell I am!” All of a sudden, recognition dawned on me. “You’re Andreo, right? Luca’s brother?” The man nodded, his hazel eyes appraising me, taking in every detail. I flinched under his gaze and asked, “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” I looked at Luca, who was ashen and staring at the ground. He didn’t move, didn’t respond at all.

Andreo knit his brows. “My brother made a grave mistake by continuing to see you after he learned who you were. I came here to try to talk some sense into him, which of course is proving to be impossible. But perhaps you can be made to understand how dangerous this game is that you’re both playing.”

“You’re making no sense right now,” I said.

“My brother told you who our father is, yes?” Andreo asked. When I shook my head, his frown deepened.

“Please, just tell me what’s going on,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Luca still hadn’t moved, hadn’t responded. He just kept staring at the ground, a muscle working in his jaw as he ground his teeth.

Andreo’s voice was clipped when he said, “Our father was a man named Sal Natori. I assume you know that name.”

I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. For a long moment, I just stood there, shell-shocked, staring at Andreo. I wanted to believe I’d misheard him, but I knew I hadn’t. Eventually I whispered, my throat dry and tight, “He can’t be.” I turned to Luca for confirmation that this was all a big misunderstanding. Why wouldn’t he look at me? “Your last name is Caruso. I know that for a fact, I’ve seen your passport.”

“He was given his mother’s surname in order to keep him safe from your family,” Andreo said, his voice quieter. “That’s also why our father never married Luca’s mother. They wanted to keep him a secret, so he wouldn’t be a target in the blood feud with the Dombrusos.”

“No way can that be true,” I stammered. “He can’t be the son of the man who murdered my uncle and aunt and their baby daughter in cold blood. Right, Luca?” He turned his face away from me. “You’re not, are you? Tell me you’re not.”

He still wouldn’t look at me. He couldn’t, and that confirmed his brother’s words beyond a doubt. I felt sick. I felt like screaming, or crying, or throwing up. Maybe all three. My voice sounded choked when I asked him, “How could you keep something like that from me?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

An ice cold feeling of betrayal washed over me. It literally left a bad taste in my mouth, sharp and bitter. “You’re sorry? I trusted you. Do you know how hard it was for me to let you in? And then you keep a secret that big from me?”

Luca turned his back to me, and I took a couple steps backwards, away from him. He felt like a stranger all of a sudden. I looked around me, feeling so lost. It was almost impossible to think clearly when a hundred emotions were flooding me, overwhelming me. I was breathing hard, on the verge of becoming light-headed, my heart pounding in my ears. I looked at Andreo and he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, “Get your things. I’ll take you to the airport.”

Yes. That was what I needed, to go home. I turned and dashed into the house and up the stairs, and grabbed my backpack and wallet with shaking hands. I then ran to the closet and did the fastest packing job of my life, flinging my clothes into my suitcase, stuffing them down and zipping it shut in about thirty seconds flat. It was a mess, but whatever. I just needed to get out of there.