Bianca was silent, staring at his hands.
Kit shook his head. ‘I couldn’t let it go, Bianca. How could I? The things he did to her… I won’t tell you. It makes me want to puke just thinking about it. Tito… yeah, I know this is the last thing you want to hear, and I’m sorry. He was a sadist. A psycho. He was cruel right through to the bone, particularly with women. But Michael Ward – my old boss – he said that Tito was his wife’s kin, that I mustn’t do anything. So I didn’t. I respected Michael’s wishes. But once Michael was gone, I was free to act. And I did.’
Bianca was staring at him. All the colour had drained from her face and her eyes looked enormous. This was it, at last; now she knew for certain. All the rumours on the streets were true. Vittore and Fabio were right. He’d killed Tito.
‘For fuck’s sake, say something,’ said Kit.
She swallowed convulsively. ‘I loved him so much,’ she said.
‘I know.’
‘And I love you,’ she said, dragging a hand through her hair. ‘God forgive me.’
‘He’s got fuck-all to forgive you for. You loved your brother, you didn’t know that side of him. How could you? And Bianca – you and me, there’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing that feels this right could possibly be wrong.’
Bianca put her head on his chest, slipped her arms around him, held him tight. A deep, shaky sigh escaped her.
Kit took a breath and said: ‘There’s more.’
‘What?’ Bianca murmured.
‘Honey – Tito was never your brother.’
She looked up at him. ‘I know, I was adopted. Mama always said I was special because she chose me from an orphanage. I’ve always known he wasn’t my blood brother, but-’
‘Bianca, there was no orphanage. You weren’t adopted.’
Now she was frowning at him. ‘I don’t understand.’
He took her hand, led her over to the bed, sat down there with her. ‘Before he died, Michael Ward told a friend of his about something that had been preying on his mind for years. It used to wake him up in the night, give him nightmares. In the end he felt like he had to tell somebody or he’d go mad.’ Kit paused, took a breath. ‘He said it broke his son, Gabe, because he was there when it happened, and afterwards he couldn’t live with the guilt. He took to drugs, to drink – anything to wipe out the memory. And Michael was so disgusted that Gabe had been a part of it that he split with him, kicked him out of the house, when he was only nineteen.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Bianca. ‘What does this have to do with me being adopted?’
‘You weren’t adopted, Bianca. Tito took you. You were stolen to order,’ said Kit.
‘But… what…?’ she asked. Then she shook her head. ‘No, don’t be silly. I was adopted.’
‘No, you weren’t. Bella wanted a daughter, but she couldn’t have one by normal means and she was too old to adopt. That only made the wanting worse. She craved a daughter like a druggie craves his next hit. So Tito went out and got her one. He got her you.’
For a moment Bianca was too stunned to speak.
‘Bianca-’
‘No! What are you saying…?’
‘Bianca.’ Kit was holding her hand very tightly in his. ‘Honey, Tito… well, he went on a trip with Gabe, searching until he found a couple with a little daughter, a three-year-old child. I’m sorry, but he slaughtered the parents, and took the daughter home. You-’
Bianca surged to her feet. She whirled and stared down at him. ‘No!’ she said firmly.
Kit stood up too. ‘It’s the truth. It’s what happened. You’ve been lied to all your life. I’m sorry.’
‘You want me to hate him,’ she said.
Kit shook his head.
Bianca started to cry. ‘Not Tito,’ she sobbed. ‘He wouldn’t…’
Kit pulled her to him and held her tight. ‘He would. He did.’
‘No!’ She tried to pull away. Kit held on until she gave up struggling. ‘He wouldn’t,’ she said more quietly.
‘Jesus, I’m sorry,’ Kit murmured against her hair as she shook with the force of her tears. He was hurting her, and it killed him to do that. ‘You were stolen from your parents. Kidnapped. Taken because Bella Danieri wanted a girl. And your attachment to Tito… I’m so sorry, Bianca. It was him who snatched you away from your family, and your strong feelings for him, the way you’ve always loved him… it’s all wrong. It’s like that thing kidnappers’ victims develop.’
‘I can’t believe this,’ said Bianca.
‘Believe it. It’s true.’
She stood up, walked away from him, arms clasped around her, as if to keep out a chill. She was shaking her head slowly. He kept quiet, let her take it in. Poor little mare, this must be a hell of a shock.
Finally Bianca turned back to face him.
‘You think that Tito killed my real parents?’ she said quietly. ‘Then why don’t I remember? Why don’t I remember anything about…’ Into her mind came the image of Tito, her beloved Tito – and the blonde smiling woman, and a strong arm, a man’s arm, and the blade of grass, the bead of blood slipping down its edge. What did it all mean?
‘Maybe it was so bad that you blanked it,’ said Kit. ‘People do that sometimes. In wartime and when people have been through something terrible, I’ve heard that can happen. It’s like it’s so bad, their mind just can’t take it in.’
The blood slipping down the edge of the grass, staining green to brown…
‘So it was all lies? My whole life is nothing but a lie? You’re saying that they tricked me, deprived me of what I should have had, my own family, my real family, not them?’ asked Bianca.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Kit.
107
‘He’s late,’ said Vittore, sitting in the back of the car with Ruby beside him and Fabio on her other side. It was five minutes past midnight.
‘Maybe he won’t show up,’ said Fabio. That wouldn’t surprise him, Miller calling their bluff. He glanced at Ruby. Not a mark on her. Not yet. A shame, really. She was a good-looking woman and whether or not Miller played ball she was going to be dead meat within the hour.
They were in the abandoned skeleton of an old rope-making factory off a deserted side street in Clerkenwell. Miller had been told to bring Bianca there to exchange, or else…
Now Vittore was getting seriously annoyed. That fucking schifosa Miller. Vittore had six of his people spread out around the factory, all packing guns, all ready for the action to start should Miller try anything crafty. No way was that bastard getting his mother back alive. He would pay, all of them would pay for what he’d done. And once he had Bianca back, he would sort her out, make her toe the line. Make sure that she never again brought such shame upon the family name. She would be punished for her transgressions. And when he’d seen to all this, got even with Miller, dealt with Bianca, then he would address the Fabio problem. Fabio – the cheating conniving little cunt – had to go.
Fabio was twitching, snapping his fingers, humming under his breath, sweating and shooting anxious looks across at Vittore. He knew that Vittore planned on killing him. Maybe even tonight. After all, this exchange would make good cover. Fabio could find himself hit in ‘accidental’ crossfire; such a shame, Vittore would say, his little brother, how sad. But in reality, he would be pleased.
Between them, Ruby was silent, trying to make herself invisible. She stared ahead, drained of hope. Kit wouldn’t come for her. She knew that. They didn’t know it yet, but soon they would. And when they did, she knew they would kill her. Dump her body on her son’s doorstep, saying, Look, you bastard, this is your mother and she’s dead. We warned you and now look what you’ve made us do.