“I only just found out myself,” he says.
“Found out what?” I ask, taking a step back.
He allows me the distance. “The day of the attack, your father was getting married.”
“Yes…”
“Did you ever see his bride?” I ask. “Meet her?”
I frown, wondering what relevance this had to do with my mother. “I glimpsed her… I think,” I tell him. “Once. She came to the house to get dressed for the wedding. Papa’s orders. She stuck her head into my bedroom and said hello. But I don’t remember much else.”
Kian nods. “Her name was Isabella Mariani.”
“Mariani?” I repeat. “As in… theMarianis?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, well, that makes sense,” I shrug. “I still don’t—”
“She was your mother.”
I stop short. “I… Excuse me?”
Kian nods. “Isabella Mariani was your mother. She was the one marrying your father that day.”
“That can’t be right.”
“According to your brother, it is.”
“My brother?” I repeat. “He’s the one that told you this?”
“My men know the drill. They know how things work. They don’t kill women or children. Not that we expected to come across any that day. We thought the only people in the house was your father and his men. But there was an unforeseen casualty that day,” Kian continues. “Your mother bled out upstairs.”
I’m still trying to process this bombshell, but Kian never gives me the time.
“That’s why Rokiades approached Drago about a marriage alliance between the two of you. You’re not just a Lombardi, Renata. You’re a Mariani as well. You’re the heir to two families. Throw the Greek forces in, and you’re the key to uniting an alliance powerful enough to take over the whole city.”
I lift my eyes, but it feels like I’m looking right through him. I’m trying to see past him to that day. The day my mother died.
“It doesn’t make sense,” I say stubbornly.
“I don’t know the whole story, Renata,” Kian says, his tone softening slightly. “I know only what Drago told me. But it does make sense. That’s why Drago kept you with him all these years. He knew your bloodline makes you infinitely more valuable. You were the secret weapon all along. Not him. You.”
I just keep shaking my head, as though I can dislodge the revelation from my brain if I shake hard enough. “I never knew her,” I say softly.
“Like I said, I don’t know the politics behind the story,” Kian says. “I don’t know the circumstances that led to your birth… or to the marriage, five years later.”
I turn around and start walking towards the exit.
“Renata.”
I stop and turn slowly. But I don’t look at his face. I can’t.
“I’m leaving,” I tell him.
“You’re in shock,” he says carefully. “You need time to process, to accept. You’re also in danger. Rokiades wants you badly.”
“You won’t force me to stay with you by scaring me.”
“I’m not trying to—”
“If you try and stop me, then you’re as bad as Darragh Kinahan,” I snap, plunging the dagger into his chest from across the boat.
His jaw tightens. I can tell I’ve succeeded in insulting him. More importantly, I’ve hurt him.
Good.
Kian O’Sullivan killed my parents. Both of them, as it turns out. He deserves hurt. He deserves pain. He deserves to watch me walk away, knowing I’ll never forgive him for a single one of his sins.