Page 27 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Prince

I walk hurriedly to my car after Luca left me. He hasn’t responded to my texts yet. I’m so worried.

The De Santis are dead? I hope it's not true.

I unlock my car and open the door. The news about Luca’s parents leaves me a little perplexed. My body flinches when my phone beeps as I settle into my car.

It is a message from Giovanni. I squint a little in confusion as I open it. The content hits me like a metal bat to the face.

What has Luca done?

Giovanni knows. He fucking knows about us.

My hands tremble, struggling to type out or think of a response to Giovanni’s message. Another message pops up on my phone before I can make out a sentence.

It’s Luca. He is threatening to get revenge for murdering his parents.

Luca believes we did this?

Oh fuck.

Our families have recently become enemies but I know my brother wouldn’t have let this happen. Giovanni wouldn’t have gone through with any plan to hurt his family. Or even worse, murder them.

I dial his number in a rush, confused as to why he would think so. “Luca.”

He answers the phone on the third ring and remains silent for a long moment.

“Please answer me, Luca.”

“The mark on their arms. You thought I wouldn’t fucking find out?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I won’t stop till I end every fucking one of you.”

“Luca!”

The call ends abruptly and I’m left more confused than I was a moment ago.

I’ve lost him. The anger in his voice scared the fuck out of me.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over. I take a shaky breath, trying to compose myself. The muscles in my chest feel like they are constricting, making it harder to breathe. I’m lost for words, re-reading Giovanni’s text. My vision is already blurry from the tears streaming down my face.

Could my family really be behind this?

“I know about your affair.”

What else does Giovanni know?

***

I burst into the living room, my eyes red and puffy from crying. “Did you do it?!” My voice is shaking with anger and grief. “Did you murder the De Santi family?"

My family’s faces are stiff, unyielding and unfeeling as I exchange glances between them.

My father’s eyes narrow at me, his jaw clenched in anger. “Where have you been, child?” he growls, but I cut him off.

“Answer me, Father!”

“You’ve finally gone mad. How dare you accuse your father and me of murder?” Mother retorts.

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