“I hate you!” she snarled.
“Already? We haven’t even walked to the altar.”
He flicked his fingers. His magic twisted around him, delivering weapons into his right hand in a shower of orange sparks, a katana, a machete, Winchester, Little Brother, a tactical sword one after the other. He walked toward her, dropping the swords and guns the moment they touched his fingertips, leaving a deadly trail behind him.
His fingers closed about a short black blade. He’d summoned my favorite gladius. He spun it lightly, letting the blade glide over his fingers like it was glued to them by some mystical force.
“This idiotic nonsense is over,” he said.
Of all the swords at his disposal, he’d chosen that one to end his engagement. I got the message loud and clear.
Christina took a step back. Tomorrow both of her thighs would be bruised, and she would need help to get out of bed. Her nose had stopped bleeding—Alessandro must’ve barely tapped it, but her eyes were still watering, and he’d thrown her on the ground none too gently. Right now, her whole body was in pain, but the sting to her pride was much worse.
The goon on the right with a ruddy thick face stepped forward. The bones of his skull crawled.
Lilian slipped off the bench and raised her arms in a smooth elegant move. Orange sparks clutched at her fingertips. Two guns barked in unison and the goons fell to the patio.
Leon fell off his bench. She was holding a SIG P226 in one hand and a Glock 17 in the other. She’d copied his guns.
Lilian glanced at the two men bleeding onto the stone. “I’ve waited a very long time to do that.”
Um . . . What just happened?
Alessandro stared at his mother. Christina’s mouth hung open.
Countess Sagredo arched her eyebrows at Christina. “You heard my son. Run along now.”
Christina woke up, clenched her fists, opened her mouth to say something, changed her mind, and took off across the patio. One of our guards stepped out from behind the bushes and trailed her.
“Leon,” I said. “Please give us some privacy.”
“Nice guns,” Lilian told him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Leon picked himself up and walked away.
Lilian gently lowered the two guns onto the stone bench and turned to Alessandro. “To answer your earlier question, your sisters landed in Chicago last night. Your grandfather has no idea where they are.”
He just looked at her, mute.
“Well?” Lilian asked softly. “After all this time, do I not get a hug?”
Something broke in Alessandro’s gaze. He stepped over the blood and hugged his mother.
Lilian sipped a glass of mineral water. She seemed different now. The meek air had vanished. Some of the fragility remained, but it was an entirely different kind of vulnerability. Lilian Sagredo was fragile like a very sharp stiletto. You could break it, but the blade would slice your hands to ribbons in the process.
Alessandro sat across from her, the wrought iron table between us. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“Would you like me to . . .” I started.
“Stay,” he said. “Please.”
Lilian smiled at me. “I don’t mind. Go ahead, Alessandro. Ask.”
“I don’t understand,” he said.
She sighed and traced the rim of her glass with her delicate finger. “I hoped to avoid this conversation because you worshipped Marcello. A lot of little boys worship their fathers, especially if they are as cool as Marcello was. Your father could be breathtaking. I suppose it can’t be helped.”
She paused.
“Marcello was an attentive husband and a caring father. He showered us with attention, and he made us feel special. But when it came to the matters of money and succession, he had no thoughts of his own. He opened his mouth, and his father would speak through it. Franco Sagredo is a monster.
“The moment I landed in Italy, your grandfather took my passport for ‘safekeeping.’ The next time I saw it was two days ago. I was very naïve. My parents were older, and I grew up as an only child, cherished and sheltered. Franco seemed kind and caring, and his wife was this sweet lady who was always smiling. I thought I was lucky to have such kind in-laws.
“The first time I realized there was a problem, we were on a holiday in Greece. Marcello met some friends, another couple. We went shopping, and he bought me a beautiful necklace among other things. The next day his friends continued with their vacation, and Marcello gently explained to me that we would have to return our purchases, because it wasn’t in our budget. I couldn’t understand it. I had married into a wealthy House and brought thirty million dollars’ worth of stocks to our marriage. We’d been married for less than six months. How could we be tight on money?”
Lilian’s smile turned bitter.
“I convinced myself that Marcello was simply frugal in the way rich people are sometimes. After you were born, I wanted to visit my parents so they could see their grandchild. I was told it was unsafe. I attempted to access my accounts and found that I was locked out. I didn’t know it at the time, but your grandfather had me declared mentally disabled. Franco had done a very thorough job of it, complete with medical opinions from two different doctors and eyewitness testimony. He was given complete control over my finances. He had my passport, he had my money, he had my husband in the palm of his awful hand, and you were barely two months old. I was trapped.”