I stared at him in disbelief. I was churning in my gut, and said in a low voice, “Luca Bianchi, don’t forget who actually should have been behind bars. The one who put this family in trouble is you, not me."
His face twisted with anger, but I didn't stop. I was done holding back.
"You think it was easy for me? Do you think I enjoyed being shoved into prison for your mistake? You let me take the fall, and now you dare to blame me for your shame?" My voice dripped with contempt. My hands were trembling.
Two years ago, the crash had been a simple mistake, but the consequences were unbearable. Luca and Celestia had been speeding, driving in the wrong direction in my car when they hit and killed a rival mafia boss’s son—someone no one could afford to cross.
But instead of taking responsibility, Luca turned to me. The family begged me to take the fall for him. They said his position in the family, his marriage, his life—everything—would fall apart if he were to go to prison.
They promised me that once I got out, everything would be repaid. That I’d get the legacy back, that I’d get to take my rightful place in the family.
I was foolish enough to believe it.