Page 128 of Unraveled

Abriella cleared her throat loudly. “Is, Cara.”

What?

Her inner question must have been as clear as day on her face, because Abriella shrugged and added, “Men in a position like Gian Guzzi—an heir to a Cosa Nostra family, a good Italian and Catholic, a Mafioso, do not get divorced. There is no acceptable divorce. He is married, Cara.”

It was that moment when her brother finally decided to make his presence known again, walking into the living room as though he didn’t know Cara’s whole world had been tipped upside down. This was what Tommas and Abriella had been discussing, she realized. This was what they knew, and that she hadn’t.

Cara felt dumb.

So fucking stupid.

Flashes of memories filled her mind, statements by people that she had let fly over her head, or reactions people had made when Gian took her out publically.

He had a wife.

That meant Cara …

She was his mistress.

A goomah.

Whore.

“What’s wrong?” Tommas asked, his gaze shooting from Cara to Abriella. “What happened?”

Abriella didn’t look all too concerned. “We were going through some albums and—”

Tommas was at Cara’s side before she had blinked, grabbing the album from her, only to see the last photo she had been looking at. One of Gian, and this Elena woman, kissing on an altar. Likely their first kiss, Cara didn’t know.

She didn’t care.

“Why would you do that?” Tommas asked Abriella.

“He’s married,” Cara said faintly.

Abriella stood from the couch, stoic and stone cold. “She deserved to know. I let her figure it out.”

“Abriella.”

She was already walking away.

Cara wished she could be angry.

She was, but not at Abriella.

Not even at her brother.

“Tommas, he’s married,” Cara said.

How had she not known?

Tommas looked down at her, wariness filling his eyes. “I don’t know much about it, just that he is, and that’s all.”

“I’m going home.”

“I don’t—”

“I’m going home.”