Page 51 of Secret Betrayals
Her family tries to get her to put the gun down. My family already has her locked in their sights. One move, and she’s done.
“It is your fault,” she whispers again, taking a shaky step toward me.
Really?
We’re still doing this?
No one notices what I do—the slight movement behind Valentina, quiet and deliberate. Someone slipped into the room. I sigh. Ofcourse.
“Lady, like she said—it ain’t her fault. My family protected you and your husband’s band of misfits for decades. So hand over the gun… and chill the fuck out.”
Sarafina’s voice rings out clear and steady. She’s behind Valentina, gun drawn. Calm. Confident. Ice cold. Everyone in the room freezes except me. Brick moves fast, grabbing the gunthe second Valentina lowers it. He hands it to Axel, pulling his wife into his arms. She shakes like a leaf. Axel having the gun isn’t great. But we’ll handle it.
“Nice entrance, Spider Monkey,” Malikai says, amused. “I take it sending you the feed triggered your usual dramatic flair?”
Sarafina smirks and gives a ridiculous curtsy.
Armand, Sebastian, and Malikai chuckle lowly. They can’t help it.
“So… besides Valentina holding Boss Lady at gunpoint… what did I miss?”
She holsters her weapon, doesn’t even look at the Mastersons. Walks past them like they’re furniture. Drops into a seat beside Malikai, drags over another with her foot, props her legs up, and crosses her arms like she’s settling in for a show.
The Mastersons stand frozen, mouths open. I shake my head at my girl.
“What?” she shrugs.
“Wait. Boss Lady? Who the hell is she?” Nitro demands, pointing at her.
Sarafina grins.
“Well, if youmustknow—she, me, heris the third oldest child of Gabriella Barone and Brian Talon Masterson. Granddaughter of James Brick Masterson, Valentina Tomasi-Masterson, Elijah, Rebecca Barone, and your niece. Nosey.”
She lifts her chin with a smirk.
“Nice to meet you. Now, back to my original question—what did I miss?”
I roll my eyes. Fi and Bellamy spendwaytoo much time together. They’re chaos twins—carbon copies of each other. Sometimes I wonder if she’s evenmykid.
I shake my head and refocus.
The real conversation is just getting started.
All the Mastersons are staring at my daughter like she just sprouted horns. They see it now. The resemblance. The truth. And it’s written all over their confused faces. I sigh, already bored with this whole damn conversation. We’ve veered so far off track, I don’t even know where to make a U-turn. My melanin is itching again, which is never a good sign.
“Wait—so you’re saying I haveolder Black siblings?” Luna shrieks like a Lifetime movie reject. Her eyes flick from me to my kids, face twisted in disbelief and something dangerously close to disgust. And just like that, I know exactly who she is. One ofthosewhite girls. Pollyanna with a sprinkle of microaggressions. Lovely.
The whole room freezes. Silent. Unmoving. But I feel the tension wrapping around my spine like a steel coil. To be fair, I get their confusion. I never told them about the twins.Bothsets. I showed up with the boys. No time, no reason to mention more. It was chaos from the start, and honestly, why explain myself to people I don’t trust? Yes. Two sets of identical twins. Rare? Absolutely. A logistical and emotional nightmare? Fuck yes. But it happened. And now here we are.
Initially, I’d planned for all the kids to come at once. But they had their own plans. The boys insisted on scoping things outfirst, meeting Talon, and feeling him out. Liv didn’t care either way. Sarafina? She made it clear she was coming, whether or not her brothers liked it, as soon as her assignment wrapped. Drama queen to the core. She always keeps her word.
Fi stands now, voice calm—too calm. “Hold up, 90210. What we arenotfixing to do is be disrespectful.” She pauses, tilting her head just enough for it to be a warning. “We might be related by blood. But don’t get it fucked up. MyBlackass will beat the brakes off you and sleep like a baby after. I dare you. Say something else.”
Sebastian is beside her before she finishes the sentence, with an arm around her waist. He knows his sister. And he knows that tone means all bets are off.
“Sorella, let the little princess say whatever she wants. We know you can beat her ass. Calm down. Now’s not the time.”
Seb keeps his voice low, only for her, but I catch it. I nod at him—semi-grateful. He’s trying. Still, his jaw’s tight, and his eyes burn holes through Luna. I hit both of them with a look that sayschill out before I make you regret breathing. They get it. They look away. Good.
