Page 76 of The Golden Hour

I find my tongue. “She died of an aneurysm.”

“Right,” Vivian scoffs, “just like your father died of a heart attack.”

Lizzie jerks forward. “You killed Daddy?”

“No. You can thank Enzo for that gift. And you should. Rafael wanted to have you committed.”

“He did? Why?” she whispers.

“Because he found your trophies, you imbecile! I told you to get rid of them!”

Enzo’s bulk moves in my periphery. “We’re getting off track.”

Vivian fluffs her hair, visibly calming herself. “Yes, right, we are. Callisto, it’s time for you to call your troublesome boyfriend and have him join the party.” Almost as an afterthought, she nudges Meredith’s leg with her shoe. “She can go once we have what we want.”

She doesn’t bother sounding sincere.

“No,” I answer. “Let her go now, and I’ll write my suicide note myself. I’ll make it ten times more convincing than whatever bullshit you’ve come up with.”

Vivian’s eyes narrow, glittering with twisted humor. “Tempting, but no. I don’t negotiate.” She nods at Franco, who tosses me a cell phone. “Don’t make this difficult. Do it, or I let Enzo play with our guest.”

Bile burns my throat.

I’m running out of time.

Think, Calli. Think.

“Since it doesn’t matter anyway, what did you want me to find at Uncle Ant’s ranch?”

“Curious till the end, aren’t you? I guess there’s no harm in the truth. Your father, sentimental as he was, wrote Anthony a letter from prison. It’s rather inflammatory. A lot of false accusations.”

I nod, understanding. “It was about you.”

She clicks her tongue. “It’s irrelevant now. Wherever it is, it will be smoke and ash soon. Just like you.”

It takes everything I have and then some to keep my expression neutral. “Ahh, so that’s how it’s going down. Let me guess—I’ve been hiding a secret drug addiction. Finn must have gotten me hooked. We went to the ranch to partake, only we ended up burning the place, and ourselves, to the ground. Tragic story with a tragic end. The press will love it.”

Vivian only smiles.

I make myself look at Enzo. “Dad didn’t give the order to kill Anthony, did he?”

Enzo stares at me coldly, unblinking, which is answer enough.

“Of course not,” Vivian supplies. She’s gleeful. Gloating. “Rafael didn’t have the balls to do what needed to be done. None of them did.”

“But you did,” I tell her. “You rose up from nothing, didn’t you?”

“You’re damn right I did.” She points at Lizzie. “You should be proud of your mother. Imagine how many Avellino men are rolling over in their graves with a woman in charge of the family!”

“You’re not a feminist, Vivian,” I say flatly. “You’re an egomaniacal, delusional bitch.”

Enzo takes a threatening step forward, but Vivian shakes her head. Moving close to Meredith, she gives her dark curls a brief pat, then wiggles her fingers at Franco.

He hands her a gun.

“I’ll make this easy for you,” she coos. “Call your boyfriend or I blow her brains out.”

With practiced ease, Vivian points the gun at Meredith’s head, her finger steady on the trigger. My heart lurches into my throat. Meredith closes her eyes, lips moving in a silent prayer.

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