Morally Blasphemous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 2)

by Veronica Lancet

  I pause for a second to think. My blood type is 0 and Claudia's is B. I study some charts and the father can only have a B or AB blood type. Ok, so there's not much to go off. But because I'm so paranoid, I end up asking him late at night in bed.

  "Where did this come from?"

  "Oh, I've been reading some wellness tips and they take blood type into consideration." The lie rolls easily off my tongue, and I feel a twinge of guilt. I'm going crazy, but if he says 0 or A, then I can put my worries aside.

  "Hmm, that's interesting." He turns towards me, his face mere millimeters away. "It's B, I think."

  "Oh." It's all I can say.

  "Any tips for me?" He jokes, tugging me closer.

  "I'll read up and tell you?"

  "Deal." His mouth comes down on mine and I lose track of everything else.

  Because this is the man I love.

  "LINA, PAY ATTENTION." Enzo snaps his fingers in front of me.

  "Sorry. I've been a little distracted lately."

  I'd asked Enzo to meet me at a nearby case. I needed someone to confide in, and for all our friendship, I knew Sisi wasn't the best option in this case. Not only because it was her brother I wanted to talk about, but also because she's been too distant lately.

  "I see that." He leans back in his seat, studying me.

  "Is he mistreating you? You can tell me anything, Lina. I'll make him rue the day he was born if he did anything..."

  "No, not at all." I cut him off. "It's not that. He's been nothing but wonderful." I quickly say. I've noticed in the past that Enzo doesn't have the greatest opinion of Marcello, and I have to wonder why.

  "You've lost weight, and you look gaunt. What am I to think?" He arches an eyebrow at me and waits for me to talk.

  "I..." I start, not even knowing where to begin. "I love him. I love him like I never thought I would." I clutch the cup of coffee in my hands, lowering my gaze. "He's amazing, thoughtful and oh, so kind. He's everything I could have asked and more."

  Enzo snickers at my words, and I raise my head. "Which is why I don't understand why you hate him so much."

  "Have you heard anything about his past?"

  I shake my head. "Only a little... not much."

  "Did he tell you he asked for your hand years back?"

  "He did mention that."

  "Rocco accepted the match. It was a few weeks before..." He trails off and I know he means the incident. "After that, his father suddenly died and Marcello went missing."

  "Why did papa never say anything?" I frown. I hadn't realized how serious the marriage talk had been.

  "It was too late by that point." Enzo grimaces. He means I was already damaged goods by then.

  "Is that why you're so against him? Because he left the famiglia?"

  "No." Enzo's lips curl around the corner sardonically. "It was because of what he did before he left."

  "If you're talking about the orgies, then I've heard about that." I suddenly say.

  Enzo blinks twice, taken aback by my comment, but he continues. "The orgies were but a small part. The Lastras were infamous ten years ago. Marcello and his father were always together, engaging in the worst, most debasing practices." Enzo pretends to spit to emphasize just how disgusting he finds those practices.

  "I see." I turn to my coffee once more, not knowing how to answer. The man I know and the man he's describing are two different people. But that's the whole point, isn't it? He's a two-faced mafioso.

  "Why did you call me here, Lina? And be honest. I can see that something's eating at you."

  "I've been getting some harassing messages. At first it was letters and then they started showing up on my computer too."

  "What does Lastra say about that?"

  "I didn't tell him."

  "Lina..." Enzo groans, slapping his hand over his forehead. "Why would you not tell your husband? I only agreed to the match because he was supposed to keep you safe."

  "Because the messages are about him." I whisper, finally getting to the real reason I'd called him here.

  "What do you mean?"

  "The messages keep saying he's Claudia's father." I recount from the beginning, what each message had contained, and then my ever-increasing doubts, and my observations.

  "So your evidence so far is that they have the same hair, allergy and blood type?" He's pensive as he asks, and I just nod.

  "It's not exactly evidence. That would imply I already believe he is guilty. I just can't help being paranoid. I keep looking at every single thing they have in common and I have these doubts..."

  Enzo is silent, his jaw locked tight.

  "It's crazy, right? It's too crazy to even contemplate." I shake my head. I just want Enzo to tell me I'm seeing too much into this. I want him to confirm that I am going off the deep end.

  "I don't know if it's too crazy."

  My head snaps in his direction, my eyes wide.

  "What do you mean?" I ask, almost horrified.

  "Lina, I told you he wasn't a good man. The Marcello I knew... the Marcello everyone knew was a monster. Fuck! I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself for agreeing to this marriage." He presses his fingers to his temples in a light massage.

  "What do you mean by monster?" My words are a mere whisper.

  "Every bad thing you could think of, he was guilty of." He says with a sigh.

  "But it's just rumors, right? You can't know for sure."

  "Lina, there was a time that absolutely no one dared to go against the Lastras. Everyone who wronged them ended up dead – killed in the worst manners possible. When his father died and Marcello went missing, no one mourned them. Like a stain in the five families' history, they were promptly forgotten."

  "But... that doesn't mean he'd do something like that to me." I try to explain to him, but even to my ears it sounds fake. "He wanted to marry me, right? Why would he...?"

  Enzo places a cigarette in his mouth and lights it up. He inhales a few times before blowing a cloud of smoke. He shrugs.

  "I'm not saying that he did it. I'm only saying he's capable of doing it."

  His casual manner doesn't help with my already increasing panic. No, I'm sure Marcello wouldn't do that. I know him, don't I? I know how gentle and how kind he is. How could such a person... I shake my head, not even wanting to go there.

  "If you're so preoccupied by what a stranger said, you can always do a DNA test to confirm your doubts."

  "That would mean I strongly suspect him."

  "No, that would mean you get a result, confirm it's not him, as you clearly believe, and then move on. You're so stressed right now about the possibility that it might be him you can barely function." Enzo aptly points out everything I'd been thinking about, and I have to agree with his line of reasoning.

  "You're right. I don't think it's him. But I'll do it just to be sure."

  "Good. I'll take care of it. You just need to collect some hair samples from Claudia and your husband. I'll have someone drop by to pick them up."

  "I'm scared." I admit for the first time.

  "Lina, as much as I don't like your husband, if you believe he didn't do it then I trust your judgement. It is possible someone is just trying to drive a wedge between to two of you."

  "I've thought about that. But I'm still..."

  "You need to be certain. I can respect that. I'll make sure you have the results as soon as possible."

  MY HANDS TIGHTEN OVER the unopened envelope. Enzo had sent one of his men to deliver it to me. It had taken less time than I'd imagined, less than a week.

  But now I face the biggest decision. Open it and find out the truth, or discard it, forget about the entire thing, and trust my husband. It doesn't help that Marcello and I are closer than ever. Last night he'd gotten one of his night terrors, and I'd comforted him throughout the night as he'd shared some things about his monster of a father.

  So many pieces just don't fit in this story, and it's making me more confused than ever. With a sigh, I put
the envelope in a drawer.

  I'll do it later.

  Maybe I'm afraid of what I'm going to find out... I shake my head, telling myself there's only one likely outcome, and that is a negative result.

  Pushing it out of my mind, I leave my room and head downstairs. The girls are in the drawing room as usual, playing a game. Even though there is a five-year difference between them, Claudia and Venezia have quickly become best friends. Sisi is present too, sitting in the far corner of the room, book in hand.

  "So you've decided to join civilization again?" I joke as I take a seat next to her.

  Sisi looks up at me, a guilty smile playing on her lips.

  "I know I haven't been around much. I've been trying to find myself." She sighs. "It's weird being free to do whatever I want for the first time."

  "I know what you mean. But tell me, does that include a certain Guerra boy?" She lowers her head, and I can spot a blush. So that's how it is.

  "We're friends. I think we understand each other. Tell me about you and Marcello." She turns towards me, changing the subject.

  "We're good." I confess. "More than good. He's wonderful." Sisi's eyes widen for a second before she bursts out laughing.

  I frown, not understanding her outburst.

  "So I'm wonderful." Marcello's amused voice echoes from behind me. I whip my head around, and there he is, smirking.

  "You shouldn't eavesdrop." I raise an eyebrow at him.

  "How can I not when I hear gems like this?" His lips curl up. "Lina, can I see you for a moment?" I nod, and he takes me back to the room.

  In the center of the bed is a big white rectangular box.

  "What's this?"

  "Open it."

  I lift the top off to reveal a white dress – a wedding dress.

  "What... What is this for?" I stammer as I unfold the dress. I'm shocked as I stare at the most beautiful dress I've ever seen.

  "I've been working on a little something for you. I know you didn't get your fairytale wedding, and I'd like to remedy that." His expression is hopeful, and my chest tightens with emotion.

  How could I have even entertained the thought that this man could be capable of anything as heinous as what I experienced that night? How could I have even suspected him?

  "I have no words." I say, my eyes moving from the dress to the wonderful man in front of me.

  "Come on, try it on." He urges me, and I gladly accept.

  The dress is absolutely perfect. With a bodice ending in a v and a skirt that flares in true princess fashion, I can't help but love it.

  "This is perfect." I tell him, doing a whirl and watching the skirts move with me. I've always wanted to do this.

  "I'm glad you like it." Marcello moves closer and places his hands on my waist, drawing me to his chest. "You're absolutely breathtaking, Lina." His lips brush over my forehead before trailing down and stopping next to my ear. "And all mine."

  "Yes. All yours." With every brush of his lips, my breath picks up, the anticipation making me shiver.

  "There's one more thing." He says and stoops low. He takes another box from under the bed. "The shoes." He removes a pair of white satin pumps full of glittery embellishments.

  "Wow." I breathe out.

  He gently takes one foot in his hand and brings it to his lips. "Even your feet are perfect." He comments as he slides the shoe on. He does the same to the other foot, and then he takes a step back.

  "The mirror." He motions me over to the wall-length mirror.

  I gasp when I see myself. Marcello comes and embraces me from behind, laying his head on my shoulder.

  "This is what I see when I look at you. Something so ethereal sometimes I find it hard to believe you're real."

  "Marcello," I whisper in awe. Looking at myself in the mirror, wearing this stunning gown, I can't help but see myself through his eyes. And I feel beautiful. "thank you."

  "I love you Lina." He comes around, cupping my face in his palms for a kiss.

  "I love you too." I reply, and I instantly feel guilty about what I've been keeping from him.

  He's probably going to be so disappointed in me for even contemplating that it might be true. But I have to tell him. I owe it to him.

  "I need to tell you something." I take a step back. His eyebrows furrow in question, so I let the words flow out of my mouth before I lose the courage. "A couple of weeks ago I received an anonymous note. After that, more notes started coming in, almost daily. Until I got a message on my computer."

  "What did it say? Lina, you should have told me earlier. It might be the same person who's been harassing you before."

  "The notes were about Claudia's father." I lower my gaze. "And the last message said..." I take a deep breath "that you're Claudia's father. It's absolutely insane, I know that now. I'm so sorry I didn't come to you before." I look at him, hoping he won't hold it against me.

  Marcello's face is white as paper. He takes a step back, his expression stricken.

  "Marcello?"

  He shakes his head ever so slowly, his eyes wide with horror. His reaction is so immediate I feel compelled to ask.

  "It's not true, is it?" He pales even more at my question, and I feel my heart stop.

  Surely, no...

  "Marcello, tell me it's not true." I repeat and I watch as he continually shakes his head, no words coming out of his mouth.

  Why isn't he saying anything?

  "Marcello..." No, it can't be... He keeps retreating until his back hits the mirror. But he doesn't speak.

  My breathing picks up, panic swelling in my chest. Why is he not saying anything? Why is he not denying it?

  "Please say something." I beg him, my voice breaking. When he still doesn't react, I do the only thing I can think of. I open the drawer and take out the envelope.

  "Lina," A slight tremor goes through my body, but I don't stop.

  I tear through the paper until the results are staring back at me.

  99.9% match.

  I slowly raise my eyes to meet his. He must see the change in me, because he falls to his knees, crawling towards me. He grabs my hands, forcing me to look down at him.

  "Lina, please, listen to me. I'm so sorry..." I tune everything out. His voice becomes a buzzing in my ears as I come to grips with what I've just learned.

  Marcello is Claudia's father.

  That means... A sob catches in my throat as the implications become clear as daylight.

  Marcello was the man who raped me.

  I look down into his face, and I no longer recognize him.

  I only see one thing. The man with the amber eyes.

  I flinch at his touch, shoving him off me.

  "You..." I start, but I can barely form the words. It's like my throat is clogged with the immensity of the situation, disappointment and heartbreak filling me to the brink.

  It hurts.

  I slap his hands aside, taking a step back.

  "You raped me. You..." Tears are falling down and my entire being is assailed by the worst pain I've ever encountered. "You tortured and raped me." I rasp out.

  "Lina, please." He croaks, his face ravaged with agony. "I can explain, please. I love you more than anything."

  "You love me?" I give a hysterical laugh, the mere idea of it ludicrous. "You say you love me, but you've caused me the worst pain I've ever experienced. How is that love? How?" I yell, and I watch as he shrinks back. "I can't... I can't do this." I shake my head, too overwhelmed. "You knew how much I suffered, and you never once thought to tell me the truth?" I stop, another thought crossing my mind. "Did you ever plan on telling me?"

  "No." His whisper is barely audible. "I did everything for you, I swear." He continues, and it's like he's stabbing me in the heart, again and again. But now he's also turning the dagger to inflict the greatest damage.

  "For me?" I choke out. "You raped me for me? I'm sorry if I find that hard to believe."

  "Please, just listen to me, Lina. It's not like you think."

/>   "Stop! Just... stop. How can you even say that? This test shows you're Claudia's biological father. How can it not be like that?" I take a deep breath, trying to find a semblance of calm. "I can't do this." I turn to leave, but he suddenly grabs my waist, holding onto me.

  "Please. I love you Lina, I really do." Every single time he says the word love, he's killing me further.

  Was it all a lie?

  "What kind of monster are you?" I spit out, outraged. He looks as if I physically slapped him, but I don't stop. "If this is how you love someone, then I don't want to know what happens when you hate them."

  "I was wrong not to tell you, I admit. But..."

  "Ten years, Marcello. Ten years I lived with this pain, and you think this will magically make everything go away?"

  "Please don't leave me. I'm sorry, I'll do anything for you to believe me." He pulls me closer and I can't find the strength to care.

  "Anything?" I turn slightly.

  "Anything." He nods, his eyes swollen and bloodshot.

  "I never want to see you in front of me for as long as I live."

  "Anything but that. I can't live without you, Lina, please." His hands are wrapped in the tulle of my dress, and he's tugging me towards him as I try to leave.

  "Let me go." I say through gritted teeth, but his grip tightens. I grab onto his shoulders and shove him with all the strength I can muster.

  He falls back, his head hitting the mirror and breaking it to pieces. Shards are falling down all around him. Eyes wide, he stills. There's a minor cut on his face, a tiny trail of blood coming down his cheek and mingling with his tears. There must be other cuts, because blood pours down onto the pristine carpet. My first instinct is to help him, so I take a step forward.

  But I can't.

  Instead, I turn to leave.

  He's fast as he grabs onto my dress again, his bloody hands staining the pure white. I look down at him and my heart shatters once more, just like the mirror. Because no matter how much I hate him, I also love him. And that's the paradox; for as long as I live, my love for him will always be shadowed by the hate. And so I do the only thing I still can.

  I push him off, tearing at the dress.