I couldn’t look at Damiano.
His last words were still ringing in my ears.
Your father didn’t hide Rafael from Matteo.
He hid him from you.
From me.
I didn’t understand.
Why would Vittorio Romano hide a child from someone who didn’t even know the child existed?
And why would my mother warn me about Damiano?
I stepped away from him.
“Did you know?”
Damiano didn’t answer immediately.
That was enough.
My chest tightened.
“You knew something.”
“I knew there was more to my father’s story.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He looked at me.
“I didn’t know about Rafael.”
“But you knew your father was hiding something from me.”
“Yes.”
I laughed bitterly.
“So once again, I’m the last person to know.”
“Elena—”
“No.”
I held up my hand.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
I walked toward the windo
