Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,306

He was more than twice her age and a brute, according to history.”

“According to your history,” I interrupt.

He ignores me.

“She didn’t survive long in his hands. Not a full year, even. In fact, only a handful of Scafoni survived that marriage. Marius Willow made sure of that, having no pity, killing off as many as he could, starting with Anabelle’s father. Although I guess he did have some pity. He didn’t kill Anabelle or her mother but cast them out, left them for dead, after securing Anabelle’s fortune. If he’d killed her, none of this would be happening.”

“Why?” I’m engrossed.

“There was one thing he didn’t know when he sent her out of his house. Anabelle was pregnant.”

“Pregnant?”

He nods. “Anabelle’s mother, who was a midwife, cared for her, and delivered the baby in secret. This was a rare male birth for the Scafoni family. Just two months after the baby’s birth, Anabelle died. She was too broken by her grief. It’s a wonder the baby didn’t die with her.”

“What happened to the baby?”

“After burying her daughter, Anabelle’s mother, took the child and fled back to Italy, but not before laying a curse on the Willow family, one that would weaken their line. From that point, the Willow family only had girls and the Scafoni family only boys.”

“A curse? You can’t believe in that.”

His expression and his non-comment give me pause. I don’t expect Sebastian Scafoni of all people to be superstitious.

“Anabelle’s son, Giuseppe, was raised to hate the Willow family, and when he came of age, he vowed vengeance for his mother and set upon rebuilding our fortune, passing down his hate from generation to generation until we were ready to return to America. To avenge Anabelle.”

“But how? Even back then, what you’re doing couldn’t have been legal. I mean, it’s kidnapping.”

“You’re naive, Helena.”

“No, I’m—”

“If you have enough money, you can do anything you want. Have anything you want. Money is power. Money makes us kings. Gods even.”

I shake my head. “What do you hold over the Willows that they don’t put a stop to it?”

“I just told you.”

“You told me money makes you a god.”

“Money got me you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s actually much simpler than you think. You sure you want to hear it?”

“Yes.”

“It may change your view of your family.”

“It won’t.”

“The Willow property, have you ever seen the deed?”

I shake my head.

“I’m not surprised. Our name is on it. The Scafoni family owns the estate.”

I snort at that. “You want me to believe you own our house?”

“And the land it’s built on.”

“I don’t believe you. The house has been in our family forever.”

“Not really. Not in almost two hundred years.”

“What are you saying? You…buy the Willow Girls?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “I think of it as more of a lease.”

“What are you talking about? My parents wouldn’t allow—”

He leans in close. “Your parents were eager, Helena.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I don’t know if that’s what he intended, because he picks up his wine, gives a shake of his head, and swallows a large mouthful.

The waiter appears with our lunch, but I’ve lost the little appetite I had.

Without a word, Sebastian picks up his knife and fork and cleans his fish, then takes a bite. “It’s good. You should eat.”

He puts another forkful into his mouth. I don’t move, I don’t touch my utensils.

I look up from my plate of pasta with red sauce, notice the anchovies lying on top. Why do people think vegetarians eat fish?

“I don’t believe you,” I say.

“I made the first payment the day you got to the island. It was on the statement you were holding when you were snooping in my room.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie? Why would I need to?”

“You want to turn me against my family.”

“What purpose would that serve?”

He’s right.

“I mean, think about it, a sacrifice of one for the survival of the family. It’s a deal I wouldn’t make, but the Willows never did have much integrity. Even family doesn’t mean anything to them. They sell off their daughters like they do a prize pig.”

I meet his eyes, and he’s dead serious. He’s not making fun of me or trying to injure me.

“I can prove it to you if you want. I’ll show you all the bank statements. All the payments made to the Willows for the sacrifice of one daughter with every generation.”

I pick up my glass then, take a long swallow. My hand is trembling when I set it down.

“And you’re okay with it?