Page 10 of Made for Sinners

“Enough,” my father snapped, his face darkening with anger. He turned to Dante, his hands clenched into fists on the desk. “Who is it? Who’s responsible?”

Dante didn’t answer right away. Instead, he straightened, his movements slow and deliberate as he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. The tension in the room was unbearable, the air thick with unspoken accusations and barely contained fury. And then, finally, he spoke.

“Her code,” he said, his voice calm but cold, his gaze flicking back to me. “The discrepancies all trace back to her code.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from my lungs. I felt my father’s eyes on me, burning with disbelief and fury, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. My hands twisted nervously in my lap, my fingers trembling as I tried to process what Dante was saying.

“That’s impossible,” I said, my voice shaking. “I didn’t—someone must have?—”

“Stop lying,” Dante said sharply, his tone laced with frustration. He stepped around the desk, closing the distance between us as he loomed over me. “The evidence is right here,Emilia. Every transaction, every discrepancy, every pattern—it all points to you.”

“I didn’t do it!” I cried, my voice breaking as I finally looked up at him. “I swear, Dante, I didn’t?—”

“Then explain it,” he demanded, his voice rising as he leaned closer. “Explain how your code was used. Explain how the money disappeared under your watch.”

“I don’t know!” I said, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “I don’t know how it happened, but it wasn’t me. Someone must have?—”

“Enough!” my father roared, slamming his hand down on the desk. The sound echoed through the room, silencing everyone. His face was red with anger, his eyes blazing as he turned to me. “Do you understand what you’ve done? Do you have any idea the position you’ve put this family in?”

“I didn’t do it,” I whispered, my voice trembling as I shook my head. “I didn’t?—”

“Then who did?” he demanded, his voice thunderous. “Who else had access to your code? Who else could have done this?”

“I don’t know,” I said again, my voice barely audible. My hands were trembling, my chest tight with panic as I looked around the room. Luca and Rafe were watching me with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, their arms crossed as they leaned against the wall. The guards stood silently by the door, their expressions unreadable. And then there was Dante, his dark eyes locked onto mine, his face a mask of cold, calculated control.

“Bullshit,” my father spat, his voice dripping with venom. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he pointed a finger at me. “You’ve disgraced this family. You’ve jeopardized everything we’ve built. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“I didn’t do it,” I said again, my voice breaking as tears spilled down my cheeks. “I swear, I didn’t?—”

The room erupted into chaos.

My father’s voice thundered in rapid-fire Italian, his words a torrent of curses and accusations that I couldn’t even begin to process. My brothers burst into the study, their footsteps heavy against the hardwood floor, and the moment they saw my father’s expression, their hands instinctively went to the weapons holstered at their sides. Guns were drawn, the metallic click of safeties being disengaged slicing through the air like a warning shot.

“Che cazzo sta succedendo qui?” Marco, my oldest brother demanded, his voice sharp as his dark eyes darted between me, Dante, and my father.

“It’s her code,” my father spat, his finger jabbing toward me like a dagger. “She’s the one who’s been stealing from us!”

“That’s not true!” I cried, my voice cracking as I shot to my feet. My legs felt like jelly, barely able to hold me upright, but I refused to sit there and let them condemn me without a fight. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Then explain the evidence,” Dante said, his voice calm and cutting, like a blade sliding between my ribs. He hadn’t moved from where he stood, but his presence was suffocating, his dark eyes fixed on me with a predator’s intensity. “Explain how your code was used to siphon off hundreds of thousands of dollars. Explain how the money disappeared under your watch.”

“I don’t know!” I shouted, my hands trembling as I turned to him. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. “I don’t know how it happened, but it wasn’t me. Someone must have?—”

“Enough!” my father roared, slamming his fist down on the desk. The sound was deafening, silencing everyone in the room. He turned to me, his face red with fury, his voice trembling with barely contained rage.

“I didn’t do it,” I whispered, my voice trembling as I shook my head. My chest was tight, my throat constricting as panic clawed at the edges of my mind. “I swear, I didn’t?—”

“Papà, calmati,” Tony said, stepping forward with his gun still drawn. His voice was steady, but his eyes were hard as he glanced at Dante. “What’s going on here? Why is she being accused?”

“Because the evidence doesn’t lie,” Dante said, his tone colder than I’d ever heard it. He reached for the papers on the desk, holding them up as if they were a death sentence. “Every discrepancy, every missing dollar, every transaction—it all points to her. Her code, her shifts, her access.”

“That’s impossible,” I said, my voice rising with desperation. “I’ve done everything by the book. I’ve followed every protocol I was trained on. Someone must have stolen my code or?—”

“Or you’re lying,” Dante said, cutting me off with a sharpness that made my stomach twist. He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, and for a moment, I thought he might actually reach for me. “You think I don’t know how this works, Emilia? You think I haven’t seen this a hundred times before? People get greedy. They make mistakes. And when they’re caught, they blame everyone but themselves.”

“I’m not lying!” I shouted, my voice cracking as I took a step back. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms as I fought to keep myself from breaking down. “I don’t know how my code was used, but I didn’t steal anything. I swear to God, I didn’t?—”

“Then who did?” my father demanded, his voice like a whip. “Who else had access to your code? Who else could have done this?”

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