Page 71 of The Don's Secret Heir

“Because the only one here who isn’t family is Giovanni, and he may as well be.”

I relax slightly. “You’re right. Itissomeone in the family.”

Lorenzo’s shoulders stiffen. "And you have some idea of who it is, otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”

I nod slowly. “I’m setting up a fake shipment and only giving information to the suspect. If anyone shows up...”

“Then we know,” Giovanni finishes.

Lorenzo nods. “Who do you suspect? Neither of us, surely.”

I shake my head. “Beth.”

“Beth Conte?” Paolo asks incredulously. “She’s never been interested in the life.”

“But she does hate me.”

Lorenzo whistles. “That she does, but... I still think you’re barking up the wrong tree, boss.”

I shrug. “I hope I am.”

“Alright, so what’s the plan?”

“We’ve given her information for a midnight shipment at the warehouse downtown on Friday,” Rocco explains. “I’ve also let it slip that Dante will be checking it personally.”

“And we’re just...” Paolo starts.

“Backup,” I finish, and they both nod.

We talk for a while longer before it’s time to leave, and the tension in the air is palpable. Neither Lorenzo or Paolo believes that Beth is guilty. They think this is a waste of their time.

Maybe it is. I can’t help but feel conflicted about setting her up. I know she’s always disliked me, and God knows I was a bully to her when I was young, but she’s Liana’s best friend. It’s good that I’ve been avoiding Liana—for many reasons—but particularly because she might see something on my face.

Know that something is wrong.

I can’t risk her tipping Beth off.

But I also can’t stand that I’m lying to Liana.

And why does it matter? Why do I care so fucking much?

I shouldn’t. She left me. Left me bleeding and broken and moved on with someone else at the drop of a hat. I should hate her as much as she hates me.

But I can’t even think about her now. All I can think about is Beth.

I’m replaying ever interaction we’ve ever had, trying to determine where it all went wrong. I was an ass to her, for sure, pulled her pigtails and told her that her dress was ugly, but isn’t that something every boy does to his cousins?

Did it make her hate me enough to want to take down my empire?

I have to make sure. Mama and Papa would want me to be sure.

My throat tightens when I think about them. I can’t help but remember the last time I saw them.

“Are you sure you want to go to Europe right now? With everything going on with the Gallos...” my father trailed off.

I huffed out a breath, annoyed. He hadn’t liked the idea of me going to Europe when I first mentioned it weeks ago, and now he was trying to keep me here.

“You and Vincenzo have been at each other’s throats for years. What’s different now?”