Page 21 of My Italian Stepbrother

Without thinking through what I’m about to do, I put the gear in drive and make my way right next to her car. I wait for a moment, staring at her while she wipes tears from her eyes. After a minute, she sits up and turns to face me, her mouth hanging open.

I roll my passenger-side window down, and she rolls her window down too.

“Get in the car,” I demand before she opens her mouth to tell me another lie.

She nods her head and rolls her window back before alighting.

Gripping the steering wheel, I rein in my mounting fury. I need answers from her.

We drive for a few minutes in complete silence. I can see she’s shaking and doing everything she can to avoid looking at me. I feel bad. I don’t want to scare her. I care about her more than she’ll ever understand, but I can’t have her talking to a PI about my family’s business. That’s a line she should never cross.

“What were you doing in Enio’s office when I saw you leaving there?” I say through clenched teeth. “If you lie to me, I will know, and you really won’t like what I’m going to do to you if you lie to me again.”

I look at her, my eyes full of rage and betrayal, but I remain calm. The idea of hurting her makes me physically ill. I could vomit just from the thought alone. I can’t even imagine what it would be like if I’m forced to actually do it. To me, men who take advantage of those physically weaker than them are the worst.

“I just needed to know what you were in prison for,” she spits out, completely losing control of her emotions and crying in front of me. “I didn’t even learn anything then.”

“Alright, now why the hell were you talking to a private investigator?!” I yell at her.

She jumps when I raise my voice and stares at me in complete shock. Her lower lip trembles, and she’s clenching her fists.

“Have you been following me?” she asks and I look away from her, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.

“I was following the private investigator who’s been digging into my family,” I confess, making an effort to keep my voice low.

I pull off the road in an isolated parking lot so we can talk without me having to worry about crashing the car and killing us both. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I suck in a big breath before turning to face her.

“I’ll ask you one more time, Brie. Why wereyoutalking to him?”

Brie collects herself and takes a few deep breaths before finally speaking.

“The same reason I was in Enio’s office. I need to know why you were in prison,” she finally admits in a quiet voice. “He approached me when I was out yesterday at the bookstore, and he told me had information about you. I swear I didn’t tell him anything.”

I’m not happy about it, but I believe her. Honestly, I’m not sure I even blame her for being curious. It’s not like she can freely ask me how many people I’ve killed or what crimes I’ve committed for my family.

“And what did you find out, Brie?” There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach, knowing she probably sees me as a monster now. “Are you glad you looked into it?”

Her voice catches before she speaks, and she sobs again. He must have told her all about the murder.

But he doesn’t know the whole story. No one does.

16

BRIE

My heart is in my stomach, and I can’t even bring myself to say what I found out. I don’t want to believe it; I wish I could pretend like I didn’t know anything because I’m sitting here with Benito, and I realize how much I love him. Even after seeing the crime scene photos and finding out what he’s capable of, I can’t fathom being without him, and I don’t know how to feel about that.

I don’t answer him when he asks me what I saw, but from the look in his eyes, he knows. Benito slowly nods his head when I don’t answer and puts the car in drive. There’s a quiet resignation in him that makes me want to cry again.

“You want to know the truth? I’ll show you, Brie,” he says in a flat voice.

I’m completely unsure of what he’s going to do. All I can do is try to calm myself down. We don’t talk, but the tension is so thick inside the car, I’m surprised we haven’t exploded yet. Half an hour later, he pulls off the road at a dockside warehouse. There are several large storage containers stacked on top of each other, and I feel like I’ve gotten myself into an extremely dangerous situation. I'm way over my head.

Benito walks out of the car and around to my side, opening the door before gently grabbing my arm and pulling me out. He leads me into the warehouse, and I’m sure something awful has happened here. Raw fear trickles down my spine with each step, and my breathing turns harsh.

“Benito, I really didn’t tell him anything. I didn’t even know anything enough to tell him,” I say, desperate for him to believe me.

“You wanted to know what I did,” he responds, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m going to tell you everything. Every detail. Then, if you want to go back and tell your good friend Lewis about it all, suit yourself.”

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