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Inferno(88)

By:Catherine Doyle


She couldn’t look at me. ‘Jack didn’t get as far away from that world as your father did. He was drawing suspicion. And then … then Angelo Falcone started looking into them and—’

‘He murdered him.’ I rested my head on the top ledge of the wardrobe as the chair wobbled beneath me. ‘Dad killed him on purpose that night and you knew!’

‘Sophie …’

‘Don’t lie to me! Stop lying to me!’

‘He told me before they took him in,’ she admitted. ‘He said he had to do it, to keep you safe, Sophie. He couldn’t risk it getting out. He wanted you to live a happy life. Not the one he had. He lost his parents to that world.’

‘You knew he murdered him,’ I cried. ‘And you were OK with it!’

‘I’m not OK!’ She scrambled to her feet. I looked down at her tear-streaked face and saw the desperation in her eyes. ‘Why do you think I don’t visit him? Why do you think I don’t answer his letters? Why do you think I can’t stomach looking at him any more, Sophie? It terrifies me. I can’t stop thinking about it. I hate that world. I hate everything it stands for.’

Where was that damn box? I grabbed their wedding album from the top shelf and flung it to the floor. ‘Then why did you marry him?’

‘I didn’t know his past when I married him! He and Jack were taken away by their grandmother. They legally changed their identities. He was a Gracewell when I met him.’

‘OK,’ I said, forcing calmness into my body. ‘When did you find out he was the heir to a bloodthirsty crime family?’

‘After a few years.’

I fought the urge to take her by the shoulders and shake her. ‘Then why the hell did you stay with him?’

‘Because I was pregnant!’

The chair wobbled again. I shot my hand out and grabbed the shelf to steady myself.

‘I was pregnant and I was in love,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to punish him for where he came from. He was making an honest name for himself. He hadn’t seen his family in years. Nobody was ever going to find out. Sophie,’ she added, her voice turning hard, ‘I fell in love with someone who wanted a destiny different to the one he was born with. A man who was kind and funny and loyal and protective. And when the truth came out, I was still in love with him, because my knowledge of who he was didn’t change anything about who he had become. I loved him, Sophie, in spite of his family. Do you find that so hard to believe?’

I faltered, my words catching in my throat. She fell in love with a mafioso.

Was that really so hard to believe?

No. It was easy to understand. Too easy.

I turned back to my search. ‘You were supposed to tell me everything after Donata left yesterday,’ I said. ‘She was sure you would.’

‘I know,’ she conceded.

‘And you didn’t.’

She raked her hands through her hair, greasy tendrils swiping across her forehead. ‘I didn’t know what to do, Sophie. Your father made me swear to him that I’d never reveal it. That I’d hide it with every last breath. But then … Jack got in hot water and he went to … he went to Donata, of all people, and he broke open the secret. And suddenly she had her eyes on you. She knew who you were. She said she was allowing me the courtesy of telling you. I told her I would.’

‘You really thought you could hide it from me?’ I asked her.

‘I had to try,’ she said, her words cracking. ‘I had to try.’

‘What were you afraid of?’ I asked, feeling marginally less angry now. It wasn’t so hard to understand my mother’s position. No wonder she hadn’t been coping well. She was chewing on a secret so big it was destroying her. ‘Telling me wouldn’t have ended the world.’

She shook her head. ‘You can’t bury something if you keep digging it up. We had to keep going, keep living the life we’d made. I was afraid you would go to them. That they would pull you in and you would see a family with money and protection and support, a family you never really had. And then Jack cut us off and the bills started piling up, and when Donata came I thought she would tell you, and you would leave me for betraying you.’

I reached down and clasped her hand. ‘I would never leave you!’

‘I wanted to do the right thing, the best thing …’ She shook her head, her expression filling with sadness. ‘But I couldn’t tell what it was, Sophie.’

‘What do you mean, Jack cut us off?’

‘Jack handles the diner money,’ she said. ‘He’s stopped sending us our share, and you weren’t well enough to go to work. I’ve been too frazzled to finish my own projects … and …’