dishonest had been traced over multiple times.
Reluctantly, I dropped her hair. She watched curiously as I folded up my sleeve, revealing my extensive tattoos, tales and memories of my life. I grabbed her hand and pressed it to the image of an axe.
“When I was seven, I was very arrogant.”
“So, nothing has changed?”
I waved away her comment with a smile. “My brother decided he’d had enough of my pride. He stole an axe from the shed and came at me with it, through the house and gardens, he hunted me like a Christmas pig.”
Elena’s eyes narrowed. “Where were your parents?”
“Reigning their empire, trying to kill each other. Whatever they were doing, they were busy. So my safety was entirely up to me. If I confronted my brother, he would hurt me with the axe. If I slowed down, he would be able to catch me. But I could not run forever.”
Her eyes were bright with interest, egging me to go on.
“I figured I only had to stay hidden until he grew tired. So I did. For four days, I waited beneath beds and tucked myself in closets. I slept in periods of minutes, never truly resting, always anticipating. My brother grew angrier and angrier as time wore on. He tore the house apart, destroying my mother’s garden. Yet still I remained hidden.”
“Did he find you?”
I smiled. “On the fifth day, he grew tired. He stopped in the living room, dropped his axe and rested. And for that split second, he was vulnerable, stupid.” My teeth flashed as I recounted the end of the story. “So, in that moment, I snuck up on him, stole his axe and wiped at his ankles. It took weeks to heal.”
Her eyes gleamed. “And what did you learn?”
“That there is a perfect time to strike. I do not guess; I do not hesitate. I wait, I plan. And when the moment is perfect…” I leaned closer to her, noses almost touching. “I strike.”
Something dark sparked in her expression. “I can be patient, too.”
“I have no doubt you can be.” I released my hand from hers, but she kept her fingers pressed to the tattoo. “I have told you a secret. Now, you must tell me one.”
Elena’s expression was tight, but to my surprise she relented. After all, she did value a good deal. “A few months after we married, I heard about the vault. I overheard a meeting between the men, where I heard that the vault was kept in the bank. I had suspected and was not surprised…but I hadn’t known what was in it, exactly. Thaddeo had never said.”
I stayed quiet, listening, even if the mention of her previous marriage made me want to roar.
“A man came to the house. He said he was a part of the famiglia. He even had the tattoo to prove it. I declined and told him to wait until Thaddeo got home.” She swallowed. “The man did not accept that answer. He was much larger than I and easily overpowered me.”
I pressed my hands to her shoulders, steadying her as the memories grew darker and darker. The touch wasn’t only for Elena, however. If I didn’t feel her warm presence beneath my hands, calming me, I might’ve gone ballistic. Overpowered me…
“In those days, Thaddeo kept the key in his desk…Hidden, but there. The man knew where it was and found it. He also decided that I was the best person to take him to the vault. The man pressed a gun to my head and took me to the bank.”
A strange coldness had settled over her. She recounted the traumatic experience like she was checking off a list.
“I was a Falcone, so the bank could not deny me wanting to see my family vault. Before we entered the vault, the Falcone men came out of nowhere…including Thaddeo.” She reached up and pressed her hand to her bicep, pain flashing over her face. “He was furious with me. He broke my humerus out of rage.” There was a dare in her eyes as she took me in. “That is what I was having a nightmare about.”
I lightly caressed her upper arm. She shuddered.
Rage uncurled within me, threatening to take over. Red tugged on the edge of my vision. It would be so easy to step into the fury, let it overtake my control and enact vengeance on those who had wronged my Elena.
Those who had dared to lay their hands on what was mine.
Elena reached out and pressed