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"There are also rumors about my mother, but I don't see how that has anything to do with the House of Diamanti."

She handed me a gold lighter engraved with the Diamanti crest.

I lit her cigarette for her.

She leaned her head back and blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. It coiled and twisted like a living thing, floating there for a moment then dissipating into the air.

At least she didn't blow it into my face.

After taking another slow drag, she raised an eyebrow. "Darling, stupid girl. Your mother has everything to do with the House of Diamanti."

Not wanting to appear eager for the information, I asked, “Do you have one of those for me?"

Ugh. I hated smoking. The mere thought of inhaling the acrid smoke made my lungs constrict in protest.

She gave me the case and lighter.

The cigarettes were black with gold tips.

Very chic, if you liked elegant death sticks.

I took a puff and blew it out. The smoke burned my throat, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

"So educate me."

"How much do you already know?"

"What's the matter, Filomena? Worried you might not know as much as you think?"

CHAPTER 29

SABRINA

She rose and paced to the window, then back, the glowing tip of her cigarette perilously close to burning the curtains. "Judge Marzio Delluci is a pig, just like my husband."

She gestured with her hands, sending bits of gray ash flying. "These men. They think they can take whatever they want. That the world should just bow down on its knees to them."

I bit my tongue to stop from blurting out, "Like father, like son."

"Marzio had a hard-on for Abriana. She wanted nothing to do with him. It bruised his pride." She shrugged. "So one day, he simply took what he wanted."

She leveled her gaze on me.

I kept my face passive despite wanting to vomit.

My mother had never even hinted that I was a child of rape.

I was regretting the ashtray taste in my mouth. "I still don't see what that has to do with you or the House of Diamanti."

She lit another cigarette, her smile lost in a fog of smoke. "Shut your mouth and listen. She got pregnant of course." She waved her hand over me, a trail of smoke wafting in its wake. "With you."

She laughed.

I rose, ready to slap the smile right off her face for laughing at my mother's pain. The chair scraped against the marble floor. My body went rigid with rage, every muscle coiled tight, ready to strike.

Then she said, "And that is when the damn fool learned she was a Badalamenti!"

I snuffed out the hated cigarette and said, "So he tried to have her killed."