Looking over the rest of the birth certificate, in front of my face is the father’s name, Jonas Masterson. “How did we not know about this?”
“Who in their right mind thought Jonas Masterson would ever have a child, considering what he did and all.”
“Bianca is his child,” I gently remind him. I wouldn’t ever say those words in front of Bianca, Ion, or Mariana. This is only safe in front of my family.
“Yeah, I’m sure that wasn’t planned. Surprised the fucker didn’t beat Mariana until she had a miscarriage.” Sorin replies honestly, not that I blame him. What I’ve heard about Jonas would leave me to believe he’s a man capable of what my brother thinks.
Sorin turns the tablet toward him and taps something else, revealing another screen. This is also in Romanian where it appears Kronid changed his last name from Masterson to Aldea, which is apparently reported to be his mother’s maiden name on the form. “Now, I’ll have you know, I tracked down a man who made it out of Jonas’ compound all those years ago, the day Mariana and Bianca were rescued. He told me Kronid was living with Jonas at the time. He was there through it all.”
“You believe this is the person behind the attacks?”
“Who else would it be? I mean, unless you found something out that I don’t know.” The sarcasm is oozing off him.
“We’ll follow your lead for now. But, we’re going to keep digging. I’m not going to assume this could be Kronid, not when there isn’t enough evidence to prove it.”
Sorin gives me a displeased glance, furrowing his brows and shaking his head. “I will never understand you. The answer is right here and yet you don’t want to believe it.”
“I’ve never been one to jump the gun. Look what that’s gotten you, and Crina. If she weren’t so emotional she wouldn’t have disowned Father and started a world of trouble. Shit,” I shake my head, hating how our younger half-sister doesn’t think with her head.
Crina was always around us growing up, even though she was the product of a filthy affair with the help. No matter, Father would never turn his back on her. He ensured she’d be well taken care of, went to the best schools money could buy, and was around for family dinners and whatnot. She’s told Sorin she resents our father for his actions, but he’s always been focused on power. It’s his life’s work.
Sorin takes a few steps away from me, pushing his tongue out under his lip. He’s pissed and it’s evident. He learned this tell from our father. “Can you blame her? Think about it, she hasn’t been treated fairly her whole life. Father always acted like she was a bastard and she wasn’t ever blind to it. Don’t be pissed at her. Her feelings are valid. He only wants her around when it’s convenient for him. You’re just lucky I talked her into apologizing to him.”
A few days ago when I was back in Las Vegas and went over to Sorin’s apartment, only to find that the invitation I received from him was an ambush from our sister. One where she was looking to get information. I might’ve bulldogged her into agreeing to apologize to our father, or I’d out someone precious to her. Sorin was pissed at me for a couple days, but he got over it. I’ve never been a nice guy and everyone should know better.
“I still haven’t gotten a call from Father saying she’s apologized. I hope she does soon . . . ‘cause I might not be feeling so generous, especially when I’m aggravated.” Sorin’s attitude hasn’t made me feel like I should be offering more generosity, and that’s all I’m being. Crina’s pushed my buttons far too many times to keep getting away with the shit she does. Fuck, she probably doesn’t even realize I do have a soft spot for her.
“How are things with Bianca going?” Sorin asks with a smirk pulling at his lips.
Fucker. “They’re going fine.”
“Your tone tells me otherwise. What’s the problem?”
“His name is Stefan Dalca. It looks like they’re in some sort of relationship.”
“Dalca? You mean the older man whose wife was killed?”
I nod, “That would be the one.”
He shrugs his shoulders, taking a seat across from me. “Women her age usually want to have fun. Take her out on the town and show her a good time.”
Sorin is the king of partying. It only makes sense why he’d tell me to show her a fun time. But man, this just makes me think about being back there, and my thoughts flow back to seeing Crina. “Mmm. Brother, I don’t get it. Why are you always coming to Crina’s defense?”
“Is that a joke?” He cackles, placing one leg on top of the other as he relaxes further into the chair.
“Don’t answer my question with a question. Spit it out.” I grumble, not amused.
“Shit, you are serious. Mircea, Crina is our little sister. It’s our job to protect her, to make sure she’s happy. You wanting to use her heart as leverage to apologize to Dad is fucked up.”
Oh, so I’ve been right from the get-go. “She’s dating one of the Beaumonts. Wow.”
Sorin’s eyes go wide, realizing how he made me connect the dots. “Don’t do anything to hurt her. She’s been through enough shit.”
“Crina hasn’t experienced anything horrible in her fucking life. Stop defending her all the time. She’s a brat, plain and simple.”
“And so are you, a spoiled, rich, brat! Fuck, I’m leaving. Have fun continuing your precious research.” Sorin gets up from the chair, takes his tablet, and goes straight for the door. But as he leaves I seriously think about what he’s said.
Would it hurt to take Bianca out for a night of fun? Given the way Stefan would barely look at her and avoid eye contact today. Hell, if I don’t at least try, I’ll never know.
It looks like I’m
