Page 66 of The Disputed Legacy
“But what’s her name?” Nik furrowed his brow. “You know she’d need to be vetted regardless of who she is. She might seem like an innocent civilian, but until we can run a background check…”
“No. Not yet.” I wasn’t going to admit that I didn’t even know Willow’s last name yet. I was determined to wait, to let her choose to tell me everything, because when she did, that would be the sign of her ultimate trust. Love couldn’t exist without that kind of faith and trust, and I wanted it all with her.
Nik rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. You can handle this however you want, but you do need to lie low.”
“How come?” I studied them all, wondering what this “big” news was that they’d received and asked me to come home to talk about.
“Word on the street is that the Romanos want you,” Maxim said.
“Dead?” I scoffed. “They can try.”
“Not dead,” Maxim said. “They are claiming that you are one of them, and you belong in their organization.”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to follow. “Explain this to me like I’m stupid. They are claimingwhatnow?”
“That you’re a Romano,” Nik said. “Not an Ivanov.”
“What in the fuck…” I rubbed my head, wondering if I hadn’t had enough coffee yet. Because that was so ludicrous it was laughable. “I’m?—”
“Dominic Romano is spreading word that you are a Romano by blood, not an Ivanov,” Maxim said. “That Beatrice was sleeping with him around the time you would’ve been conceived.”
“That’s who she was fucking?” I asked, incredulous. Our mother was a whore, cheating on Father for years. It was common knowledge among the Mafia families that she enjoyed one affair after another after we were born. We were born so close together, like Father was determined to get it all over with. And it seemed like he had been.
“Dominic’s trying to claim that you’re his son,” Maxim said.
“The fuck—” I stood, pacing. Having my birth, my legacy, disputed like this was complete bullshit. I was an Ivanov. That was how I’d been raised, how I would continue to live. I wasn’t a blood relative of the goddamn enemy.
“Which has to be bullshit, by the way,” Maxim added dryly. “You’re a spitting image of Father.”
I was. Of all of us, I resembled him the most.
“There’s no fucking way,” I muttered, so rocked by this news that I wasn’t sure how to absorb it.
Was he spreading these lies to distract us?
Was this an attempt at diversion?
Did he really think he could claim me? And for what? To force me to join his family and organization so I’d forsake the one I’d lived with all my life?
“When we first got word of this,” Nik said, “you know, while you’re off playing house with your mystery woman, I had to kind of wonder if this could be true.”
I shot him a hard look.
“Not that you could be a Romano by blood because Beatrice cheated. But if Dominic really thought you were his son.” He shrugged. “Because you weren’t taken when we were.”
He had a valid point. Maxim, Nik, and Damon had been taken, held hostage, and almost killed. I wasn’t.
“You mean as if Dominic wouldn’t have wanted ‘his’ son captured and killed?” Damon asked. He shook his head. “That makes no sense. If Saul is a Romano heir, then Dominic never would’ve been okay with his being raised as an Ivanov.”
“Unless he was okay with that in the sense that he’d be a lifelong mole for him when he wanted to reclaim him,” Nik argued.
“I highly doubt he’d do that for so long,” Damon said.
“That’s beside the point,” Maxim cut in. “Saul wasn’t taken because he wasn’t as accessible that day. He was hiding way up in that fucking tree and they ran too fast with us.”
“Maybe,” Nik said, “But it also could’ve been a way to undermine and break up our family from within, taking one of us not in death but to own.”
“Hey!” I raised my hands. “Stop fucking talking over me like I’m not here. I’m an Ivanov, for fuck’s sake.” I couldn’t believe they would entertain this rumor’s validity. Couldn’t theyfeelthat I was their brother?
