I want to protest, want to defend myself, but the words stick in my throat. Because Marcella is good at this. So good. She’s rewriting reality right in front of us, turning truth into lies and lies into truth, and Luca is believing her.
“Luca,” I finally found my voice. “Please. Listen to me…”
“No.” Marcella’s voice sharpens. “My son has listened to you enough. He’s listened to your lies, your manipulations, your convenient revelations. Now he needs to hear the truth from people who actually love him.”
“I never lied to him.”
“Didn’t you?” Marcella’s smile is poisonous. “You married him knowing your family had blood on their hands. You came into this house carrying your father’s schemes. Every tear, every moment of seeming vulnerability, all of it calculated to make him soft. To make hi
