“I’ve never heard of you. Now let me go. You have no right to…”
“This is Dante Luciano, and this is Dominic Luciano. Are you telling me you’ve never heard of them, either?”
“Of course not. Why should I have?”
“Because we grew up together—all four of us. Don’t tell me you don’t remember Archhurst. We used to carry you around on our backs and brush your hair. I took a whipping for you after you destroyed the kitchen making Dante’s birthday pancakes. Are you telling me you don’t remember any of that?”
I gaped at him with my jaw on the floor. I couldn’t breathe. “That’s… That’s impossible. That… That was… just a dream.”
“It was no dream, my dear. You lived with us for five years. You were born at Archhurst, and we grew up together. You were like our little sister.”
My eyes skipped over to the twins. They gazed back at me with their steady, unwavering black eyes. They never fidgeted once. Luca wasn’t saying anything they didn’t already know.
My hand flew to my head, and I reeled in my chair. “This can’t be! My parents…”
“Your father is Matteo La Rosa. He worked for my father, Antonio Fortino.”
“No, no, no, no, no!” I countered. “He’s an accountant. His name is Martin Anderson, and he works for TaxBreak.”
Luca burst out laughing, and the twins both chuckled. “Good one!” one of them snorted. Which one was that—Dominic or Dante? I couldn’t keep them straight.
“Your father was a member of the Fortino crime family for twenty years. He was my father’s accountant, and he handled every transaction in our business. He was my father’s most trusted advisor… until your father betrayed him and sold him out to the FBI.”
My eyes hurt from staring at him so hard. “You’re insane.”
He nodded. “What’s your earliest memory?”
I thought back. “I was about… maybe four.”
“Yes? What do you remember?”
“I remember the day we moved into that house—the house in Providence where I grew up.”
“What do you remember about moving into that house?”
I struggled to put the puzzle pieces together. “I remember seeing my room and standing on the balcony. I went downstairs, and my parents were putting food in the fridge. My father was drinking a cup of coffee, and I asked him…”
Luca peered down at me with his head on one side. He waited for me to say something. “Yes? What did you ask him?”
I looked away. Was my memory betraying me? I hadn’t thought for years about what happened when we moved into the house. I never thought about the fact that I didn’t always live there. What had my life been like before that?
“I asked him why we had to leave.”
“What did he say?”
I shrugged. I still couldn’t meet his gaze. I was afraid I might see something that proved he was right. “He said we needed a break from all our relatives.”
Luca relaxed and paced back and forth in front of me. Whoever he was, he must be in charge of the twins. He was the one who did all the talking.
“Anderson is a fake name. Your father went into witness protection, and the FBI changed his name. We’ve been looking for him ever since.”
“That’s impossible. My father is NOT a mobster.”
Luca came to a halt, and I really didn’t like the look in his eye at all. “Tell me about this dream.”
“Why should I?” I blustered. “It’s none of your business.”
He smirked a toothy, predatory grin. “It’s my business if I’m in it.”