Page 25 of A Sixpence For Your Shoe (Revenge Brides #6)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Misha

W ith everything else that is going on, the one thing that I knew I had to do before the wedding was talk to Celso.

My brother.

My half -brother.

I heard the other guys teasing him at dinner about not having the same mother and he told me in the kitchen that night too.

And everything I felt when I first saw him, a deep instinct, right in the center of my heart - I just know it - he’s, my brother.

He said his father forced his mom away before he got to know her.

Does he know what really happened? Was that why he got so emotional in the kitchen at the family dinner?

I bite at the inside of my cheek, chewing at it so much that I taste blood.

I’m so nervous to tell him what I think is the truth.

But if he is my brother, he deserves to know that his mother is still alive - and he can meet her if he wants to. The thought makes my head spin, so I have to take several deep breaths to calm myself.

Vincent thinks I’m arranging a last-minute wedding thing with Neve and Celso is just tagging along for the fun of it. But Neve isn’t even going to be there. I asked Celso to meet me to help me arrange a surprise.

In secret.

I pull up outside the coffee shop and see Celso sitting alone at a table near the window, stirring his coffee slowly. He looks so intense. So serious.

My anxiety triples.

I chose a public place because I figured it was safest. He can’t overreact and he can’t lash out at me. I don’t know what to expect. I hardly know him at all.

But he is my brother.

And he deserves to know the truth.

He spots me as soon as I walk into the coffee shop and smiles broadly.

“Hey, kiddo.” He says, standing up and pulling my chair out for me.

“So, what retarded surprise do you have up your sleeve for my father. He doesn’t deserve it you know - whatever nice thing you are planning to do for him.

” Celso rolls his eyes and smirks as he sits down again, lifting his hand in the air to call the waiter over.

My eyes take him in. Staring a little too long.

I examine his features: he has dark hair—not black—but dark like my mother’s.

He has his father’s blue eyes and angular jaw.

But the shape of his eyes - and his lips - definitely his lips - I can see my mother in there. I can see myself in his features too.

“Jeez, kiddo. Take a photo. It’ll last longer.” He says, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest.

I laugh nervously. Shifting around, wondering if I’m making the right choice.

“What’s going on?” He demands, his instincts kicking in. “This isn’t about my father is it - what is it about?” He knots his brows as he glares at me. I watch his defenses rising.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes for a second, then open them and focus on him.

“It is about your father, but more than that - it’s about your mother .”

“What the fuck?” he mutters quietly. “Ok - what about my mother? She’s dead.” He shrugs, trying to be emotionless but I can see the spark of pain in his eyes at the mention of her.

“Because your father killed her?” I ask, getting right to the point, more boldly than I thought I would be able to.

Celso sneers in anger. “What did he tell you?” He growls darkly, leaning forward with his fist clenched on top of the coffee table.

The waitress arrives right at that moment, and I quickly order a coffee while Celso continues to glare heated flames towards me.

Once the waitress is gone, I start again.

“Celso your father didn’t tell me anything about your mom. There is another reason for me knowing.” I’m struggling to find the words.

Celso reaches across the table and grabs my wrist, squeezing so hard it feels like he might snap the bones. “You better start talking before I rip you apart.” He warns me coldly. I believe he might do it. But it also amuses me.

I roll my eyes. Typical that my brother would have the same quick temper I have.

With a quick jerk, I yank my arm away from him and roll my eyes again, making sure he sees it.

“Calm down, dammit. I’m trying to tell you - it’s just not easy ok.” I huff in annoyance.

“Make it easy.” He snarls.

“You are my brother.” I say. “My half-brother .” I correct myself quickly.

He stares at me in silence, not one muscle on his face moves.

“What?” He says after I’m convinced, he’s blanked out.

“You are my half-brother, Celso. My mother - Amelia - is your mother?—”

“Amelia?” his voice cracks as he says her name. “Amelia is your mother. My mother - I don’t understand - Misha what is going on?” He asks in panic. There is no anger in his expression anymore. I just see a little boy, crumbling, heartbroken, desperate for what I’m saying to be real.

I reach across the table and take his hand, squeezing gently.

“Celso, your mom is still alive. Our mom. She survived what happened to her.”

I wait while he processes.

When he looks up at me his eyes are glittering with tears. “So, he did try to kill her?” He asks.

I nod, biting my lip. “He tried, he left her for dead and if my father hadn’t found her, she would be dead. But she isn’t. She’s alive, and she’s happy and healthy and she’s really incredible - you have to meet her soon.”

Tears are streaming down over Celso’s cheeks as he listens to me. He brushes them away with the back of his hand, but as soon as he wipes his face more stream down in their place.

He turns his back on the rest of the coffee shop, and I hate myself for telling him such emotional news in public. I didn’t think it through. Climbing out of my seat I stand in front of him and hug him. He buries his face against my T-shirt and lets his tears spill silently into my top.

The waitress quietly sets my coffee down on the table and hurries away without a word. Celso doesn’t notice her. His face is still against my stomach, his arms wrapped around my waist.

He stays that way for a long time. I can’t imagine what is going through his mind. Or maybe I can. Shock. Revelation. Horror. Hope.

Celso sighs and leans back, looking up at me, he reaches up and brushes his hand over my cheek. “That’s why you’re so pretty. Because you’ve got my amazing genetics.” He chuckles.

I pack up laughing. “Wow. That’s what you come up with.”

With the tension broken I sit back down in my seat and Celso takes a moment to wipe his face and pull himself together.

“I’m going to kill my father.” He growls.

“No. No, you can’t. You can’t, Celso. Please.”

“I have to call him.” He says, pulling his phone from his pocket. I snatch it from his hands and hide it under the table.

“Please, I’m begging you, don’t do this until after the wedding?—”

“You’re still going to marry that monster?” he snarls, confused. “After what he did to our mother.”

“Love is a crazy, strange, and dangerous thing, Celso. But listen to me. You have to wait until after the wedding before you let him know that I told you anything.”

“Give me one good reason,” He demands.

I lean back in my seat, smiling. “I have a good reason.” I nod.