Page 46 of Bride By Initiation

While I've never met or heard of these men, their last name is the only thing I need to see. They're enemies of the Marinos.

Why would my father be with them and look so happy?

I flip the photos back around, confused, staring at them and studying each one the same way I assessed the binder full of men.

One in particular makes my gut sink to the floor. There's a beautiful woman in it. She has long, dark hair, stunning eyes, high cheekbones,and a killer body. She's holding a baby and looking at my father like she adores him. Or maybe she's in love with him? And he's touching the baby's head.

My hands shake as I turn the photo to read the back of it.Finzia and Aurora.No last name or date like the others.

Who are they?

Is the baby my father's?

Was that his wife before he married my mother?

Is it still his wife?

Do I have a sister?

Questions spin in my mind, making me dizzy. I glance at the dates on the other photos and see they were all taken between when my mom would've been pregnant with me to when I was fifteen, which was before my father came into my life.

I don't finish drying my hair. I go into my closet, put on a pair of joggers, and toss a sweater over my head. I slide into a pair of sneakers and return to the bathroom. I shove the stack of photos back into the envelope. Then I text Calogero.

Me: Pull the car up, please. I'll be down in a moment.

Calogero: I'll be waiting.

I take the envelope and put it in my oversized bag, then slip on my coat. I make my way through my building and step outside.

Calogero is waiting on the curb. He stands next to the back door of the SUV and opens it, nodding. "Ms. Marino."

I blurt out, "I need you to take me to my parents' house, please. Quickly."

His expression shows concern. "Yes, ma'am. Is everything okay?"

"Yes. Please, just hurry." I slide into the back, and he shuts the door.

He hurries to the front, gets in the driver's seat, and veers into traffic.

I put up the partition, not wanting to talk. My insides quiver. A million scenarios race through my mind, but confusion plagues me.

Calogero pulls up to my parents' building and gets out. Before he can come around to my door, I open it.

"Ms. Marino," he frets, following me.

"You don't need to walk me up," I call back, but like always, he doesn't listen.

It's my father's rule, and I know it. Calogero will always walk me anywhere I go unless my father or someone like Sean is with me.

The ride up in the elevator is excruciating. It takes forever before we get to the penthouse, and the elevator opens.

"Thank you," I say to Calogero as I step out. I quickly reach over and hit the button so the doors close before he can follow me.

The house smells delicious. The rich, deep scent of Mom's veal osso buco hangs in the air.

Normally, I'd be excited to be here. I love visiting with my parents. But my emotions are hitting me hard, and I don't know what to think.

I walk through the penthouse and into the kitchen. Mom and Dad stand side by side, cutting up vegetables for a salad. Slow music plays in the background, and glasses of red wine are in front of them.

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