A muscle thrummed along Dom’s jaw, but he continued to sit in silence. I cast another uneasy glance at Drake, Anson, and Trent. They sat watching him, clearly knowing his silence could turn into something lethal.
“I found all of this out while in the fold. A lot of it Alessio told me because Matteo wanted me to bring Bianca to him so that you’d be alone. He’s already reunited with Anson, and he wants to. . . replace you,” Drake said softly. “Because you’re not his son. Matteo wants you dead, Dominic. Anson is his heir. He’s your replacement.”
Dom didn’t move an inch as he absorbed Drake’s words. When he finally stood, he paced the room and tugged at his black hair, frustration radiating off him. We didn’t say shit ashe gathered his thoughts. Eventually, he let out a breath and returned to his seat, that calm silence still surrounding him.
“My father isn’t my father,” Dom murmured finally.
Drake shook my head. “He’s not. Your father is your grandfather, Carmine. You’re Matteo’s brother. Your family traditions on the night of Matteo and your mother’s wedding led to your grandfather and your mother conceiving you.”
Dom exhaled, his leg bouncing. A muscle popped along his jaw.
“That’s not all.” Drake cleared his throat. “I got information on Bianca’s father while there.”
Dom sat up straighter,all his focus on Drake. I didn’t know if he was going to pound or not, and that kept me on edge.
“Her father is Nathaniel Walker. He was Matteo’s friend. One of his best friends. He handled all of Matteo’s accounts. His money. Everything. He also did a lot of dirty work for Matteo, including helping Klaus and Alessio handle. . . business.”
Dom didn’t say a word so Drake pushed on.
“I found out Matteo believed that he’d betrayed him and was helping to work with the Ivanovs to take him down. Nathaniel disappeared. He was last seen with David D’Angelou. From what I’ve gathered, Nathaniel exchanged Bianca to Ivanov for his life. That’s why D’Angelou got his wife and Bianca. Ivanov made the arrangement for Hail and Bianca’s marriage as a way to gain traction and get in league with D’Angelou, who has his fingers in plenty of pots and is growing. More power. More everything, basically. At least, that’s how I understand it, but you know how shit goes in our world. Maybe there’s more to the story. I don’t know. This is just what I know and thought you needed to know.”
“Bianca’s father worked with mine?” Dom finally asked.
Drake nodded tightly.
“And he gave her away in exchange for his life?”
Another nod from Drake.
Dom frowned, everything about the way he sat displaying the anger he was trying to keep contained.
“That’s not all. Nathaniel wasn’t even his real name,” Drake said. “His real name is Konstantin Volkov. He was always an Ivanov implant. He also went by the name of Jonathan Lawrence and had an entirely different family besides Bianca and her mother. Matteo wants Bianca as a way to punish her father. He knows word will get back to him.”
Dom rubbed his face and was silent for a moment.
“So, you’re my. . . nephews?” Dom finally asked, casting a quick look to Anson and Trent.
“We are,” Anson confirmed.
“And my father. . .brother. . . wants me dead so you can be the legitimate heir?” Dom’s voice shook. My heart went out to him. It was a fuck of a blow to get. The man who raised and hated him wasn’t even his father.
“He does,” Anson answered gently.
“And he wants to use Bianca for revenge? On her father and to hurt me?” Dom pressed.
Drake nodded and sighed. “He wants to do to her what Carmine did to him. He took everything from him. His true love. His potential love with your mother. Essentially, Matteo’s entire life and potential happiness were taken by your real father, Carmine. Matteo raised you like you were his because Carmine threatened to take it all away if he hurt you or fucked up. Matteo blames you for everything, even though it was never your fault. And if you die, you can’t take Matteo’s place. His real sons would be in line to be heirs. With you alive and being Carmine’s remaining known heir, everything would fall to you.”
“Fuck,” Dom snarled and tugged at his hair, his leg bouncing. “What the fuck?”
No one said a word as we let Dom sort through his emotions.
“And. . . are you here to fucking put a bullet in my head?” Dom demanded, glaring at Anson. “I’m standing in the way of you having it all.”
“I’m here to put a bullet into the head of whoever the fuck killed my mother and our sister,” Anson said fiercely. “I don’t have any interest in becoming an heir. Nor does Trent.”
“I don’t,” Trent agreed. “I mean, I will if you two assholes die, but I’d really rather just live my life. Maybe learn to surf or some shit.”
Dom was quiet again. He got to his feet, a deep frown carved into his face.
