“What did he do?” I demand and look at Luca. “I don’t under …” But one look at him lets me know he does. Perfectly.
He takes a step toward my mother, hands fisted and eyes now black as the night. “He set me up too,” he growls.
She sniffs. “You have to understand. There was nothing I could have done. He and my husband agreed. I had no say.”
“Bullshit!” he snaps.
Why am I the only one lost? “Luca—”
“I had to keep her safe,” my mother wails, interrupting me.
“I could have kept her safe!” he shouts. “You should have come to me. Been honest.”
“You’re in the Mafia!” she shouts back at him. “I know what you’re capable of. And how much your father hated you two together.” She shoves his chest, but he doesn’t move. Fresh tears run down her face, and she looks at Nite. “At the time, I felt helpless. My hands were tied, and I couldn’t lose her. Luca couldn’t have run forever. If his father wouldn’t have found him, Rossi would have.”
I look back at Luca, confused. Why is she talking to Nite?
“I couldn’t stop what had already been done,” she goes on.
“What had been done?” I ask.
Everyone turns to me, but Luca is the one who speaks. “Rossi set me up. He kidnapped Nite and tortured him to talk about Mia. He knew she existed because he and my father were friends when she was born. He had threatened her life. But …”
“But what?” I ask breathlessly. My chest already tight.
“He knew I would run to her to protect her. But he was never going to touch her.” He shakes his head, his jaw sharpening. “No. He did it to get me away from you.”
My eyes slam to Nite. “No,” I whisper. It wasn’t Mia’s fault. She didn’t do that to him. It was me. “Oh, God.” I fall into the seat, but no one pays me any attention.
“Do you have any idea how hard I tried to find something you could use against him?” my mother asks Luca. “How I put my life in danger every day snooping around trying to find you some leverage?”
“And why was that, Misty?” he snaps.
“Because you leaving ripped my daughter apart!” she shouts in his face. “She loved you. She needed you. And I know you loved her too.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Un-fucking-believable. Do you have any idea what kind of danger you put her life in?” he growls. “How me leaving left her wide open? A target? I thought … I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving her,” he continues.
“If you would have known the truth, you would have acted. Thought irrationally. I just needed some time. I knew where you went. You hadn’t run off with another woman. You were just trying to protect your sister. And I knew once I had the info I needed, you’d come running back to her.”
How does my mother know about Mia? I thought she was kept a secret. How … my chest aches. I hurt Nite. I was never friends with the guy, but he was used as bait because of me. They were all tricked because of me.
“I’m sorry.” I stand, looking at Nite with tears running down my face. “I’m so sorry, Nite. I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I hate that I hurt you. I hate that Rossi used you.” My voice breaks. “I’m so, so sorry.”
His eyes cut to Luca, and he nods once.
“We’ll leave you two alone for a second.” My mother looks like she’s about to argue, but Luca grabs her arm and drags her back into our bedroom, closing the sliding glass door behind them.
“I’m so sorry. I wish I would have known. I would have …”
“I forgive you.”
My eyes widen, and my lips part on a gasp. I stare up at him in shock as he kneels in front of me. Placing his hands on my shaking knees, he repeats, “I forgive you, Haven. Do you understand? It wasn’t your fault.” His voice is deep and rough but in a soothing way.
My wide eyes go back and forth between his. “You spoke,” I choke out.
He nods.
“Say something,” I demand, placing my hands on his broad shoulder, gripping them tightly, wanting to hear it again. I didn’t imagine it.
“I said I forgive you.”
“But … but, they cut your tongue out.” I can’t help but blurt out. “Because of me. Because.” My bottom lip quivers.
He gives me a cocky smile that lights up his face. Oliver Nite never smiles. Not even before …
He sticks his tongue out, and my eyes widen even more if possible. “There’s a difference in being unable to talk and choosing not to.”
“But … what … how?” my brain can’t comprehend what I’m hearing. All this time? Why is he pretending to be a mute? And what is he gaining from it?