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“Then why do you stay in it?”
“Because it’s what I know. It’s what I was born into. And because—” I stopped, searching for the right words. “Because someone has to. Giovanni takes care of the family. He’s brilliant at it, ruthless when he needs to be, but it’s consuming him. And then there’s Lorenzo, my other brother. He’s Luc’s twin, but where Luc chose art, Lorenzo chose... everything else. Parties, women, the kind of life that looks free but keeps him trapped in a different way. And Antonio, he’s the legal mind, handles the family contracts, keeps us legitimate on paper. He’s the good one, the one who actually got out of the blood business.”
“So you stayed to hold it all together.”
“Someone had to. Luc got out to paint. Lorenzo got out to play. Antonio got out to be clean. That left Giovanni and me to carry the weight.” I paused, then smirked. “And Illyria, our little sister. She’s twenty-two, headstrong as hell, and refuses to listen to anyone. But she’s loyal, and she’s trapped in this world just like the rest of us. Someone had to make sure she had options, that she wasn’t forced into the same cage.”
“So you sacrificed yourself.”
“I wouldn’t call it that. I’d call it... protecting my family.”
“Then who protects you?”
I was quiet for a moment as her fingers traced the rim of her wineglass; the movement was hypnotizing.
When I didn’t respond, she muttered softly, “My mother did the same thing.”
“Did what?”
“She stayed so I could leave. Or at least, so I could have the chance to leave.” Madigan looked up at me, and I saw pain in her eyes, old and deep, and I wanted to take it away. Wanted to fix everything that had ever hurt her. “She isn’t like my father. She didn’t want this life. She wanted something normal, something safe. But she married him anyway because my grandfather made her, and then she spent the rest of her life trying to protect me from what he was.”
“She loves you,” I said, my voice rough.
“I know. And I failed her.”
“How?”
“Because no matter what I do, I will still be under his control. I wanted to go away to college, but I attend NYU. I wanted to live on campus, but I still live at home. He says it’s for my protection, but we both know it’s about control. It’s always about control with him.”
“So leave.” I reached across the table without thinking, covering her hand with mine. The contact sent heat racing up my arm and made my heart slam against my ribs. Her skin was soft, warm, and I never wanted to let go.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Because he would find me. And he would drag me back. Or worse.” She looked down at our hands, but she didn’t pull away. “You don’t understand what he’s like. What he’s capable of.”
“I understand more than you think.” I tightened my grip on her hand, gentle but firm. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
She looked up at me, her eyes wide. “You can’t promise that.”
“I just did.”
“Salvatore—”
“I mean it, Madigan. I won’t let him hurt you.” My words came out fierce, almost desperate, and I realized I meant them more than I had ever meant anything in my life. I would protect her. I would keep her safe. Even if it cost me everything.
“Then you understand why I can’t leave,” she breathed.
I did understand. I understood the weight of family, the chains that bound her even when she wanted to break free. I understood the fear and the obligation, and the terrible knowledge that leaving meant consequences she couldn’t predict or control.
But I also understood something else: that she deserved better. That she deserved to be free. And that I would do whatever it took to give her that freedom.
“Your mother is right,” I said. “You should leave. Go to school away from here. You should go to Paris and anywhere else you want to go. You should have the life she wants for you.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?”
“I don’t know yet. But I’ll help you figure it out.” I stroked my thumb across her knuckles, unable to stop touching her now that I’d started.
