Page 62 of Brutal Union
Another photo. Mother at a bank. Another showing her at what looks like a lawyer's office. Building a case, planning an escape.
"But the Rosettis couldn't have loose ends." Liam produces another document, this one a bank transfer record. "Recognize the account name?"
I do. It's a Rosetti family account, one I've seen on papers in Marco's office. The transfer amount is significant, dated the day before Mother died.
"Marco's father ordered it," Liam says, savoring my reaction. "Your father just… facilitated things. Gave them her schedule, her route. Both families wanted her gone."
The world tilts. Everything I thought I knew rearranges itself into a horrible new pattern. My throat burns where Marco'smouth was this morning, whispering how I was his, only his, forever his.
"Both families," I whisper, the words like ash and rain on my tongue. "They worked together."
"The one thing that could unite them," Liam confirms. "A woman who knew too much and wanted out. Your mother had information that could have destroyed them both. So they destroyed her first."
Alice's sobbing has stopped. She's staring at me now with eyes that burn with betrayal. "You're sleeping with them," she says, each word precise and terrible. "You're fucking the people who killed our mother."
The accusation lands hard. Because it's true. Every night in Marco's bed, every time he touches me, every moment I've started to care for him, all of it built on our mother's blood. The worst part? Even knowing this, my traitorous body still aches for him. Still remembers how he held me after the Irish attack, how he whispered 'mine' like a prayer. Was that possession or guilt? Love or control?
"He knew." The words come out broken. "This whole time, Marco knew what his family did."
How many times has he mentioned my mother? How many times has he compared me to her, warned me about Bernardi women getting people killed? He's known from the beginning that his father ordered the hit that orphaned us, that created the broken woman who would one day fall into his bed.
"The best part?" Liam's enjoying this, feeding on my horror. "He probably sees it as justice. The Bernardi daughter paying for her mother's betrayal, one fuck at a time."
Alice launches herself at me, nails clawing, screaming incoherently. I don't fight back, can't fight back, because every accusation she shrieks is true. I am sleeping with our mother's killers. I did choose them over our family. I am exactly the traitorshe thinks I am. The same taste of copper fills my mouth from when Marco first kissed me. God, how did I let myself become this stupid? Mother would be ashamed.
The soldiers close in, their circle tightening like a noose. One pulls Alice off me, not gently, and she fights him with the wild desperation of someone with nothing left to lose. Another grabs my arms, and I note his grip strength, the angle I'd need to break free if Alice wasn't their leverage.
"Both of you are coming with us," Liam announces, triumph clear in his voice. "The Bernardi sisters, together again. Though I doubt this reunion is what you imagined."
Christopher has Alice now, his hands on her shoulders in a grip that speaks of ownership rather than restraint. She's stopped fighting, gone limp with shock or exhaustion. The sight of her like this, broken and captured because of my choices, tears something inside me.
The rain intensifies, turning from steady drops to sheets of water that obscure everything beyond our small circle. We're trapped in this moment, in this revelation, in this cemetery where our mother begged for our lives.
"What are you going to do with us?" My voice sounds distant, like someone else is speaking, even as my mind races through escape routes, weapon positions, anything that might save Alice. I learned from Marco, but not enough to deal with this.
Liam's smile is all teeth. "That depends entirely on your husband. How much is his wife worth to him? How much is her sister worth? We're about to find out exactly what price Marco Rosetti puts on the women who know his family's secrets."
Marco will come for me. Not for love, but for ownership. He'll tear through the Irish to reclaim his property, leave bodies in his wake, and when he finds me, he'll fuck me against the nearest surface to reassert his claim. And the worst part?
I'll probably let him. Because he's turned me into exactly what Liam said, a woman who spreads her legs for dangerous men, who mistakes possession for love, who gets wet at the thought of violence.
Just like my mother.
Just like the woman who died for trying to escape this world.
The realization settles in my chest like a stone as the rain pummels the gravestones around us. Marco Rosetti hasn't just stolen my body or my freedom. He's stolen my ability to exist without him. Even knowing what his family did, even drowning in this betrayal, my treacherous body still aches for his touch.
I've become exactly what he made me: his perfect victim, programmed to crave my own destruction.
And there's no coming back from that.
23 - Marco
The cemetery gates explode inward as I arrive with my brothers, our Escalades tearing through sacred ground like the horsemen of the apocalypse. Rain pounds against the windshield, turning the world into a watercolor of violence. Through the downpour, I see them: Irish soldiers positioned between headstones, using the dead as cover.
"Six on the left, four by the mausoleum," Luca calls out, already chambering a round. His voice carries that edge of excitement that means bodies are about to drop.
Ten hostiles visible, probably more in reserve. Liam's keeping his distance, smart. He knows I won't risk Valentina in crossfire. Every shot I take has to account for her position, turning me defensive when I should be on offense. He's already won this fight and he knows it.
