Page 100 of Disarming Caine
“You never got involved, though?” She paused, but I didn’t respond. “Right?”
“I had a great deal of education in Roma. Not all good. He taught me to defend myself, which I did when I needed to.” I didn’t want to go further, but I had to. “Until it became less about defense and more about pleasing my uncle.”
She sucked in a breath, and her hands left mine, yanking my heart away with them. Law and order Samantha didn’t want to hear I had a dark side. “That scar on your groin. That’s—”
“I was shot. I got twisted into their world for the blink of an eye and almost died because of it.” I pushed off the desk, pacing across the floor, my hands taking on a life of their own as I flailed for meaning. “But after I got out of the hospital, Mario arranged for the last year of my Masters to be spent in Pompeii, so I could stay with him. He saved my life by doing that.”
My eyes finally found hers, but the emotion which had settled there—Contempt? Disappointment? Judgment? I turned away, unable to look at her.
“And despite it all, Gio offered me a job when I graduated, to authenticate works of art whichcame into his possession. Not that he bought or was thinking of selling.” I grabbed another sheet of paper, crumpling it. I wouldn’t dare to laugh in his face, no matter how preposterous the idea had been. “After all that, I finally understood why my father moved to America and why he never speaks of Giovanni. And I normally don’t either.”
Until today. Until an FBI agent told my girlfriend things I was not ready to tell her. My worst secrets were out and there was no going back.
“You said you would have killed Parker with your bare hands.” Her voice quavered. “Did you ever—”
“Samantha!” I snapped. “How could you even ask that?”
“I don’t know.” She cupped her hands over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. “Your family…”
“My family what?” I gestured in the direction of the studio. “Are wonderful people who adore you? Who would never do those things?”
“That’s why that Carabinieri officer accused you of stealing the fresco, isn’t it? Because he knowsthatside of your family. And they were the ones who gave you that burner phone in Naples, weren’t they?”
“My family in Brenton is the one you should judge me by. Not a blood relation who has nothing to do with me anymore.” But I did have something to do with them. Cristian’s man had saved Samantha’s life in Napoli. For that, I let him leave with the fresco and never told her the truth about that, either. And this week, Cristian was the one I called to ask for help.
“Like how your father insisted you and Sofia lie to me about the Chagall?” She shook her head. “Your family’s always going to come between us, aren’t they?”
“No, bella.” I took a step toward her, and she matched me by moving away.
How could I make this better? What was there I could say to make her forget the images now floating in her head? “I suppose it’s good timing. With me out of the way, you’re free to rejoin the FBI, sì?”
The hands fell away from her mouth, dropping to her heart. “Antonio, you have no idea.”
“Of course I don’t. Because you never tell me anything.” I folded my arms, attempting to soften my stance or my jaw or my voice. Failing at each one. “You just stare at me and expect me to figure everything out on my own. My smart woman—always thinking and never feeling.”
Her hands curled in on themselves, rubbing to counteract whatever sensation she felt in her fingers when she was panicking inside.
Stop lashing out, Antonio. Fix this.
My office door swung open, and Papa appeared. “Antonio, I need your help with—oh, my love!” he said to Samantha. “You didn’t stop in to say hello. I hope you don’t mind, but I need my son to clear up his notes on some blueprints.”
“Of course.” She plastered a professional smile across her face and walked over to him, presenting her cheeks. “Family first, right?”
“Always,” he said, as I would have expected him to.
I hurried after her. “I’ll see you at home when I’m done?”
She sniffed and marched out to grab her jacket and leave, saying nothing more.
Chapter 34
Samantha
Ibrushedsnowoffthe top of the gray granite stone, my boots crunching in the snow with each step. This was silly. I hadn’t visited since Cass forced me when I moved home in June. My heart thundered in my chest as I stood there once she was cleaned off, staring at the dates carved into the front.
“Hey, Mom.” A silver puff of breath hung in the air for a moment before floating away on the wind. “I needed to talk and wasn’t sure where else to go.”
The next time I see you, I’ll be calling you Special Agent Caine.
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