Page 130 of Corrado

“Cameras caught you kissing the boy from your school. I had the footage deleted, and your mother and I simply decided we wouldn’t pressure you in any way. We knew about the women you’d dated before that. And so, when, or if, you wanted to tell us that you were bisexual, then that was when you would tell us. It wasn’t for us to decide when it was your time to tell your truth, Corrado.”

“I always thought—” He stopped abruptly, unwilling to say the words. It was the look his father gave him, willing him to speak, that allowed him to do it. “I thought you didn’t ask because … I thought you didn’t want to know.”

Gian rested back in the chair.

Across the room, Marcus set his glass down.

“Because of the traditions?”

The traditions.

Such a simple way to describe the culture of mafioso that his family was so deeply engrained in.

“Essentially,” Corrado replied.

Gian let out a noise, dark and dismissive. “I almost burned the city down once for a woman … could you imagine what I would do to it for a child that woman gave to me, Corrado? Because that is what I would do for any of you—the way God made you never mattered one way or another. This life, this legacy, and this name … it means nothing compared to what you, your brothers, and your mother mean to me. It gave me nothing compared to what she sacrificed and gave to me.”

“I should have told you.”

He should have done and said a lot of things.

Not all to the people in this room, or house, either. But to Alessio, also, who still hadn’t called. The man with the piece of his heart that Corrado left in Vegas probably thinking they were chasing a dead fucking end together.

Because how long had they been doing this together?

How long had Alessio put up with this shit?

How much more would he take?

Except now … now it was more complicated because Corrado had feelings in the game for a woman he had no business feeling anything for, and all this without having done nothing more than kiss her.

He’d punched those nails in.

That coffin was closing.

Corrado had no one to blame but himself.

“I should get back to Ginevra,” he said quietly.

Gian tipped his head to the side, clearly hearing the pain in Corrado’s words. “Son—”

“I have to get back.”

“Okay.”

Gian let him go.

It was his wrongs that chased him out of the office, though.

“So, what’s that like?” Ginevra asked her companion as he directed them back out to the party. “Having another face in the world that looks just like yours?”

Chris chuckled, his hand patting the top of her hand tucked into the crook of his arm. “Depends on which one of us you ask, I think.”

Her gaze darted to the other side of the dining room that was currently being used as a gathering area for the many guests. The long table had been used to set up another row of white roses, while silk and chiffon hung from the large, crystal chandelier overhead. People milled about, chatting and laughing as music filtered in from the next room.

It wasn’t the décor or the people that caught her attention, but Cara Rossi. And the two boys sitting next to her, and leaning close like they were sharing a secret. The other set of twins. Because apparently, there were two sets in this family.

“There are a lot of twins in your family to ask, I suppose,” she said.