“Giancarlo is your uncle, and GTR is your cousin,” Benny says.
I blink a few times as I process the information. “There’s no way I’m related to them. There just isn’t. I can’t be. It’s not possible.”
Cannon takes my hand between his. “Someone might say the same thing when they find out that Dominic Casso is his father. We don’t get to choose our family, baby. No matter how much we might wish we could.”
“But they’re monsters,” I say, my voice breaking when I think of the lives they took and the injuries they caused on the sidewalk with their bullets and the blood they spilled.
“We all are, kid. Some of us just hide it better than others,” Benny says.
I cut my gaze to his. “I’m not a monster. I don’t care who I am or whose blood runs in my veins, I’mnot like themor you, if that’s what you are.”
Benny’s face softens, but that doesn’t make his next statement any easier to swallow. “If you’d been raised a mob princess, like your daddy had planned, who knows what you might have been capable of. Then again, you could’ve turned out like Eden. Sweet as pie. We’ll never know.”
My shoulders tug back until I’m sitting straight up. “My father was Leander Lockwood, and he raised me to be smart, kind, curious, and compassionate.” My tone is sharp enough to wound, and Cannon squeezes tighter.
“No one can take that away from you. You’re right, it doesn’t matter whose blood runs in your veins, you are Leander Lockwood’s daughter because he was your father. He didn’t have to give you his DNA to make that true. He gave you everything else that made you who you are.”
I jerk forward and throw my arms around Cannon’s shoulders, tears spilling down my cheeks. “I really want that to be true. I can’t take that away from him.I can’t.”
“You won’t. I promise. No matter what happens, I loveyou. I don’t care if you’re Drew, Memphis, or Alessandra. I don’t care which wigs and contacts you wear or how much makeup. I loveyou.”
I pull back and blink while Cannon reaches up to swipe the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.
“I love you too. But still, I don’t like not knowing who I am. I need to know for sure, even if I don’t want it to be true.”
“Then we’ll find out,” Cannon says.
“How?”
“I don’t think the Rossettis are going to volunteer a DNA sample, but I’m pretty damn sure we can take one after they’re dead.” The gruesome suggestion comes from Benny.
“We’re not killing them, Ben. We’ll take them out the smart way, and they’ll spend the rest of their lives rotting in federal prison.”
The old man hacks and coughs again. “How the hell do you propose we make that happen?”
“I have a plan.” Cannon rises and holds out a hand to me.
I stand, staying close to him once I’m on my feet, as if I’m using him as an anchor. Which I am, because nothing else in this room or city makes sense except for what I feel for him.
“We trade me for Cynthia,” Cannon says, “just like they demanded.”
At that moment, I’m glad I’m holding on tight to him, because the suggestion would have otherwise taken me to my knees.
“No! Not a chance in hell!” My protest fills the room as Benny shakes his head.
“No. I agree with the girl. We have to find another way. They’ll kill you.”
“And you don’t think they’ll kill her?”
As soon as Cannon says it, bleak despair fills my chest.I can’t let Cynthia die. No matter what, I’ll always love her in my own way. I can’t sacrifice her to keep Cannon. But I can’t lose him either.
It’s an impossible situation. An impossible choice. The clock is ticking, and I have no idea how the hell we’re going to get out of this mess.
I won’t lose Cannon. I can’t let anything happen to Cynthia.
So, what the hell do we do?
A man fills the doorway and steps inside the room. Cavanaugh Westman, Hollywood’s hottest action star. Now that I’m looking, I see the stamp of the Casso family resemblance on his features.