She stiffened. “Thank you.”
“Your birth family is interesting, of course.”
Inca’s heart froze. “Not really.”
Edgar feigned surprise. “Really? I would call murder interesting.”
Inca swallowed; she made to stand, but Edgar’s hand shot out and pulled her down again. “My family is none of your business, Mr. Winter.”
“Oh, but it is. Your birth mother was murdered … because of you, I understand.”
Inca gritted her teeth and said nothing, looking away from his penetrating gaze.
“Strange, they say karma is a bitch. Your mother got what she deserved.”
Bastard.
Inca lost her temper then. “Go fuck yourself,” she hissed, and he laughed in delight.
“That’s better, a little spirit. So, tell me, Inca, will you go crazy like your mother? Will you do to Tommaso—or, let’s be honest, Raffaelo—what your mother did to your father? Because then, I assure you, my delectable Inca, it will be very much my business.”
She wrenched her hand away from his grip and stepped away. “I have no idea what you are talking about, Winter, but I will tell you this. Tommaso and Raffaelo deserve better than a bastard like you for a father. Whatever it is that you did to them, that you did to Tommaso … I will make you pay for it. Just watch me.”
She stalked off, her anger flooding through her veins like hot lava. Fucker. Asshole. She wanted to scream the words, but she knew if she did, the twins would come running, and all hell would break loose. No, this was her fight, not theirs. What the hell had he meant by ‘what your mother did to your father’?
She locked herself away in her bedroom. Then, later, when Raffaelo came home telling her about the premises he’d found for their business, he looked so happy Inca didn’t him about the incident with Edgar that morning. Inca looked out of the window and chewed her lip. If she told Raffaelo what Edgar had done to her, Raffaelo would go insane and probably shoot the fucker where he stood.
Inca gave a grim smile. No, she couldn’t risk Raffaelo going mad, but she had to tell him something, something that made him aware of the depth of Edgar’s hatefulness, his threats. Because that had scared her more than anything. Inca went into her bedroom and started to strip, throwing on some old sweats. She moved to the window to close the blinds and then stopped. Edgar Winter was standing in the gardens, staring up at her window. His smile was chilling. Inca slammed the blinds then. Making a decision, she went to find the twins.
Tyler Sardee was tired, but happy to be with Nancy’s family. Being with them had helped him grieve for his beloved wife, but he missed Inca terribly. He sat alone on the porch of the house, Boomer asleep at his feet. His cell phone buzzed and he smiled when he saw the caller ID.
“Hello, sweetheart. It’s good to hear from you.”
“Hey, Popsicle. How are you?”
Tyler and Inca chatted easily for a while. Then, hearing his daughter take a deep breath in, he felt his chest tighten. “What is it, little one?”
“Dad … I need to ask you something, and it’s not going to be easy. But I need you to tell me the truth now. Please.”
Tyler closed his eyes. He had known this moment would come—for years, ever since Inca was a teenager, he had been waiting for it. “It’s about your birth parents, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. Please, just tell me everything you know, however hard it might be to hear.”
Tyler sighed. “I will, but before I do, please, Inca, just tell me … are you in trouble? Is that why you need to know right now?”
“No …” she hesitated. “I’m not in trouble, but I could potentially be if I don’t know all the facts. There’s someone who … who could make things difficult.”
His heart was beating hard against his ribs. “Inca …”
“I just need to know so I can tell Tommaso and Raffaelo before they hear it from someone who could twist it. Dad … did my birth mom kill my father?”
Oh God.
“Yes, sweetheart. I’m sorry; she did.” He felt strangely relieved to be telling her the truth. “She was very sick, schizophrenic, and one day she snapped and beat him to death. She tried to take you with her when she attempted suicide, but, obviously, you survived.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. “Inca? Are you okay?”
He was relieved to hear her voice, strong, resigned. “Yes, Pops, I’m fine. I think I always knew it was something like that, so it’s not the biggest shock. I don’t remember it.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes.”
Tyler rubbed his eyes. “Sweetheart … I think we both need to go home at some point and make our peace with what happened. The lawyers are on at me to get Nancy’s estate settled and I think … well, I think I’ll sell the house and move out here permanently. Nancy would want me to start again, and I do like it here. So does Boomer.”
Inca chuckled quietly. “I miss his shaggy head. But, yeah, Dad, I think you’re right. At this moment, I can’t imagine going back to Willowbrook for anything other than to say goodbye.”
“Italy feels like home already?”
“Tommaso feels like home.” There was a slight hesitation after she said his name that Tyler picked up on.
“Raffaelo too, yes?”
“Yes.”
“They’re good boys.”
“They are, truly, Pops. I know you had your doubts …”
“Not anymore. They’ve kept you safe, and that’s all I ask.”
When Inca had said goodbye, Tyler stared out at the setting sun. It was cold here, but somehow it didn’t matter. Inca was safe; the Winter twins had kept her that way, and for that he was grateful. Tyler wasn’t stupid; he had guessed at some kind of … unusual arrangement between his daughter and the Winter twins, but he couldn’t judge any of them harshly. They made each other happy, and that’s all he could ask.
“Two weeks,” Tyler said to himself. “Two weeks and I’ll go home, settle things.” He scratched Boomer’s silky ears and sighed.
Time to move on. Time to live.
Raffaelo was like a little kid on Christmas morning as he showed her around the empty coffeehouse. He’d spotted it by chance as he’d passed to go to a friend’s … it had beautiful views over the Bay, over to Vesuvius. A balcony on the second floor overlooked the streets.
“God, this is perfect,” Inca said, as Raffaelo pulled her into his arms.
“You’re perfect, mio caro,” he said softly. His eyes were shining, and she could tell he was excited about the place. “We can complete on this this week, if you really like it.”
“I do, I really do …” But his lips were against hers then and, grinning, he danced her back into the empty building. Inca giggled at the mischievous look on his face. “I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Winter, and you’re a very, very rude boy …”
But she didn’t protest as he lifted her onto the counter and pushed her legs apart. “Always so much underwear on,” he mock-protested as he removed her panties. She collapsed into laughter as he bunched up the delicate cotton and threw them out of the window.
“They were my favorite pair!” she protested, but then he was between her legs and his tongue had found her clit and she couldn’t do anything but moan happily. He drove her to a state of almost frenzy, then unzipped himself and plunged into her, his cock huge and engorged, thrusting deep within her. His eyes never left hers.
“Ti amo tanto,” he said. “I love you so much.”
She clung to him as they moved together, her lips hungry against his. “Ti amo, Raffaelo. Ii amo.”
“Inca, sposami … sposami ed essere mia per sempre… Marry me and be mine forever …”
And at that moment, only the two of them existed in the world. She nodded, hot tears dropping down her cheeks. “Yes, Raffaelo. Yes, I will marry you …”
Of course, when they had returned to reality, they knew it wouldn’t be as easy. Tommaso.
“
I can’t break his heart,” Inca whispered. “I won’t do it. I love you, Raffaelo, I do, more than … I love both of you. I can’t hurt him.”
He kissed her softly. “I know … I’m sorry I put you in this position. I should never have asked you … it was just, in the moment, it felt …”
“Right,” she said, and leaned against him. “It did. It does. But not at the expense of Tommaso.”
Raffaelo nodded. “I know. I know. Please, do not make yourself unhappy, mio caro. We three are happy. Let us stay like this.”
But however happy the three of them were, there were two things standing in the way.
One, their father. While he was there, they had to keep their distance from each other. Inca was growing increasingly tired of letting this man dictate to them. “No more,” she told the twins, and that night she led Tommaso to Raffaelo’s room and they made love long into the night. When they were asleep, Inca woke to see Edgar standing at the end of the bed, watching them. She met his gaze steadily until he smirked and walked out. She slid from the bed and locked the door after him.
There. Now he knows. No more secrets.
She didn’t give a fuck what Edgar Winter thought of her—if he thought she was a whore, so be it.
The other thing that stood in their way was her unfinished business. “I think I have to go back for a while, just to say goodbye.”
Neither brother thought it was a great idea, but they understood why she needed to do it. “We’ll come with you,” Raffaelo said. “We won’t interfere, but I don’t think either of us feels comfortable you being there without us.”
Inca nodded, but something was bothering her. No, ‘bothering’ was the wrong word. Haunting. And she couldn’t pin down exactly what it was, just that, soon, very soon, all this would end. That she would die. She could feel death at her shoulder, just waiting for the opportunity. So she was greedy, wanting to spend all of her time with Raffaelo and Tommaso, not caring what anyone else thought.
At night, they shut the rest of the world out and made love to each other, then talked until dawn, making plans. Inca worried about Raffaelo, who seemed to be plagued with nightmares and dreams that he would not share with them, but which would keep him up.
Inca was thinking about this as she went into the study to return a book. Deep in thought, she pushed open the door and went to the bookshelf. As she slid the book back into place, the door behind her slammed. She turned—and saw Edgar Winter smiling nastily at her.
“Alone at last.”
That’s all he had to say to let her know this wasn’t going to be a friendly meeting. She glanced at the window—if she could get to it, she could push it open and get away. He caught up with her before she got halfway across the room.
“Let me go!” she struggled against his strong hands and he laughed.
“I don’t think so, Inca. How about you just lie back and let me show you what a real man could do for you.”
Losing her temper, she laughed in his face. “A real man, you piece of shit, doesn’t spend his life trying to destroy his sons.”
“What have I destroyed, Inca? Tell me? Because the way I see it, my boys have had every luxury, and now …” he kissed her roughly; she spit in his face. “They get to fuck a pretty little cunt like you. “
He had her trapped against the wall and his hand snaked up under her skirt. Inca screamed, but Edgar clamped his hand over her mouth. “Come on, beautiful, what’s your problem? After all, you’re fucking both of my boys … surely you have something left for me?”
He was twice her size and, struggle though she might, Inca couldn’t get free from him. He slammed her down onto the desk and held her down as he unzipped his pants. Inca kicked out at him, got lucky, catching his groin with her heel, and he buckled. She rolled from the desk, sobbing, but he grabbed her ankle and pulled her down.
“No, you don’t, you little whore. I’m going to take what I’m owed, and afterwards, I’ll decide whether or not I’ll let you live another minute.”
Inca struggled with all her might as he tried to enter her, twisting and shutting her thighs, but when Edger raised his fist and punched her in the stomach, the pain was incredible and all the breath left her body.
She felt him watching her and struggled to stand up—pain racked her body and, as she looked at him, she was horrified to see lust in his eyes. He’s enjoying my pain, she realized, he’s turned on by it. Adrenaline kicked in then and she managed to stand up straight. The searing pain in her stomach dulled.
“Please, don’t …”
But he didn’t listen. For Inca, the next few minutes were worse than hell. Edgar groped her sex, grinning triumphantly, nastily. Inca was sobbing, her arms flailing around for anything, anything to help her, when her fingers felt steel. Scissors, that had fallen from the desk during the struggle. She gripped them as best she could and drove the point into Edgar’s shoulder. He roared in pain and jerked back.
“Fucking bitch!” He screamed for his guard, who ran in.
“Hold her down,” he ordered as he ripped the scissors from Inca’s hand. “I’m going to gut this little bitch.”
Inca went cold, but she screamed and fought with her captors. As Edgar raised the scissors, a shot rang out and plaster from the ceiling rained down on them. Edgar stopped.
Tommaso, his face contorted with rage, leveled the gun at his father. “Let her go. Now.”
Edgar gave a nod and Inca was released, still sobbing. She ran to Tommaso, who put his free arm around her, pressing his lips to her temple. “It’s okay now, bella. You’re safe.”
Edgar smirked, and Tommaso’s eyes narrowed. He leveled the gun at his father’s head. “Give me one more reason, Father. Just one.”
His father’s guard edged forward but, from behind them, Inca heard Raffaelo enter the room.
“Don’t,” he said to the guard, who balked.
“Raff, take Inca outside and help her. Me and Daddy Dearest are going to have a little chat.”
Raffaelo and Inca exchanged worried glances. Tommaso, without looking away from his father, half-smiled. “It’s okay, both of you. Leave us.”
Whatever had passed between Tommaso and his father, he never told them, but when he came to join them, to tell them that Edgar had left the house, he seemed different. Stronger. He and Raffaelo hugged for a long moment, then Tommaso asked if he could speak with Inca alone.
“Of course, brother.” Raffaelo smiled at them both, then left the room, closing it quietly behind him.
Tommaso sat down next to Inca, his fingers sweeping the hair back from her face, briefly touching her split lip. “Are you okay, Principessa?”
She nodded, leaning against him. Her eyes searched his face. “Are you?”
He considered the smiled. “Yes, actually. More than okay. I said everything I had ever wanted to him. I doubt we’ll see him again. It’s no loss. I’m so sorry for what he did to you; I knew he was vicious, I never realized he would go that far.”
“It’s okay.”
“He was going to kill you, Inca; it’s not okay.” He closed his eyes briefly, as if imagining it, and shivered. Inca nudged him.
“Hey … I’m here. I’m okay. At this point, I’m probably immortal.”
Tommaso chuckled and kissed her forehead. “It wouldn’t surprise me.” He sighed. “I hope I turn out to be a better human being than my father.”
Pain passed across his face and she touched his arm. “Tommaso, you are already a million, trillion times the man he could ever be. You are not your father.” Her voice hardened at the mention of Edgar Winter.
He studied her. “Thank you. And you,” he hesitated. “You are not your mother. You will never be your mother.”
“Thank you, Tommaso.” She pressed her lips to his and he returned the kiss but then pulled away, his eyes serious.
“Inca, Raffaelo told me what happened between you and him—that he asked you to marry him.”
Inca flushed and started to stand, but
he made her sit. “Inca, I know exactly what you’re thinking. I know you. I can tell you feel guilty, but let me ask you this. Did it feel right? Be honest.”
She chewed her lip. “I don’t know.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Yes. I suppose so.”
He leaned in, a small smile on his lips. “I’m happy for you, Inca, for you and Raffaelo. Both you and I know … you are meant for each other. I have been selfish, not wanting to give you up, indulging my … fantasies. But you and Raff … it is a love for the ages. We all know that. I have to let you go, Inca, and you have to do the same for me.”
Inca smiled gratefully at him. “I wish I knew myself as well as you seem to know me.”
He shrugged. “You do. You just won’t let yourself believe it.”
Inca leaned her forehead against his, knowing that this was goodbye—at least as far as their love affair went. “I do love you, Tommaso; don’t ever think I don’t.”
“I know, bella, and I will always love you. Just … in the right way now. As my sister. My very best friend.”
She couldn’t help the tears that dropped down her cheek then. “Tommaso …”
He wrapped his arms around her. “Ssh, it’s okay, Principessa. It’s okay. I promise—we will all be happy.”
They flew back to Washington a week later. On the plane, they discussed how to explain the fact that the ring on Inca’s left hand wasn’t from the Winter twin people expected. Inca studied it as Raffaelo—her fiancé, she thought, laughing to herself—and Tommaso talked about what they had planned for the Winter mansion.
After she and Tommaso had talked, a few nights later, Raffaelo had taken her out to dinner and proposed again. Tears of happiness flowed from both of them as Inca had said yes, and he’d swept her up into his arms and kissed her, clearly over the moon.
“I’m going to marry Raffaelo Winter,” she kept repeating to herself. She hadn’t wanted a big gaudy ring; instead, she and Raffaelo went to choose one. He rolled his eyes when she picked the cheapest one in the store, but she genuinely loved the simple design, the single diamond.
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