Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Is that how Evander convinced you to marry him?” She laughs quietly to herself. “It seemed rushed, but now I understand. Only I wonder what he’s getting in return. I suppose it’s not something I want to hear about. You are somewhat attractive in that ugly Italian way.”
I flush red. What a bizarre insinuation. “You have it wrong.”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “Not that I care.”
I grind my teeth. She’s trying to get a rise out of me on purpose, but knowing that doesn’t make it any easier, because it’s working. “We have a lot in common, you know. The men in our lives did everything they could to ruin us.”
“The difference is you married my abuser. What did I do to you?”
“Why are you like this?” I explode, unable to help myself, spreading my hands wide. “Evander told me what happened. He told me about your father, and Dimitra, and Evander’s father, and the whole sick triangle of their twisted relationship, and how Evander’s your half—”
“Enough,” she says sharply, pulling into herself like she’s preparing to spring. “Shut your goddamn mouth. You don’t know anything at all.”
I let out a slow breath. My stupid mouth got me in trouble again and I went too far. And to think I’ve been so good lately. “Can you really blame him for what happened?”
She stares at me for a few seconds, not speaking, composing herself. Her back straightens and her chin lifts. She watches me down her nose, looking hard. Finally, she breaks the tense silence, just as I’m thinking about walking away.
“You want to know the sick thing? When I first heard about what happened to my father, I wasn’t even upset. I thought, great, another dead Kazan. I wasn’t even sad, isn’t that so wrong? It wasn’t until I heard about my brother, and how it all happened, that I got angry, so fucking angry. Now it’s like that anger’s all I have. It’s the only thing keeping the grief back.”
“Is that how your mother feels too?”
“Mother’s a wreck,” Sophia says, shaking her head. “Worse than I am. We know why Evander did it. I even understand, although my mother still claims her husband and her son were both completely innocent. She’s delusional. I know what these men are. But how am I supposed to live here with Evander, in this house, knowing he killed my father? And my brother? How does it change anything, knowing it was a good reason?”
“He’s your half-brother too,” I say, feeling weak and unable to do anything deep in my chest. If Sophia and her mother can’t ever change, if they can’t get past their trauma, what chance do I have? “You could find new family.”
“It doesn’t matter. What does that change?” She shakes her head bitterly. “I think on some level, I would’ve done the same thing if I were in Evander’s position. After his father, after finding out the truth, it’s hard for a man like him to turn his back and ignore what happened. But how does that help?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, wishing I had something I could tell her. “I really don’t know what’s going to fix things. If anything can be fixed. All I know is, this family is going to rip itself apart. Revenge keeps on piling up.”
“I guess that matters to you now, Mrs. Kazan.”
“I guess it does.” I stare at Sophia, trying to keep my composure. “I’m not going to ask you to forgive Evander. I know you never will. But I will ask you to stop scheming against him. If you care at all about this family, you’ll walk away.”
“Walk away?” Her expression sours like I’ve gone insane. “Do you know what you’re even asking me?”
“Leave the mansion. You and your mother.”
Like that, her softness dissipates, and all that’s left is the burning rage. “How dare you,” she says through her teeth. “You usurping bitch. You’re nothing to this family. How dare you come to me and ask me to leave my home?”
“Staying is just going to turn you bitter and deranged. Trust me, if anyone knows, it’s me. If I hadn’t left Christopher, I’d be dead now. I’d be a husk of a person. I spent all my time either terrified of him or dreaming of how I’d hurt him back, and in the end, the only smart thing I ever did was run.”
“Look at you now. You moved up, didn’t you? From a capo to a lord.” She sneers and shakes her head. “For a second there, I thought you might be different. But you’re as conniving as I am, aren’t you?”
“Sophia,” I say, feeling this conversation getting away from me and wishing I could pull it back in, but she’s already turning and walking off, her gardening tools forgotten in the dirt. I wish she could see how sincere I really am, how much better her life would be if she could put distance between her and the tragedies that define her. She’s still young, she still has a chance.