But that wasn’t his decision to make. And as I began down the stairs, they both glanced up as I asked, “What don’t I need to know?”

Giada’s face snapped to her brothers, but Tor kept thin-lipped, his closed off expression on me.

Already feeling the exhaustion settle in, I asked jadedly, “What did she do now?”

22. The Disciples

Chapter 22

The Disciples

Vittoria

“Breathe, baby.”

The quiet words reached me and, in a delayed movement, I turned to my husband and took in a stuttering breath. He reached out and gently cupped my cheek. I leant into it as he said, “I stand by what I said. I don’t want you to do this.” When my lids opened again, he looked mildly haggard as he confessed, “I don’t want you in his sights.”

My neck twisted and I glanced out to the unassuming warehouse. Our limo was idling, waiting for an exit I wasn’t sure was even going to happen. I didn’t want to be here either.

I wasn’t very good with confrontation and you didn’t get more confronting than this.

My lips parted with my slow exhale. I turned to my husband, took his hand from my cheek and held it tightly. “I have to.”

Tor did not look happy. His jaw remained tight when he uttered, “I think your soft heart needs reminding that she would not do the same for you. I don’t need to tell you that she left you for dead and didn’t even flinch. And now, this shit?” He paused a moment. “Roam is not a man to be trifled with. The second you show an ounce of emotion, he will pounce on you like a lion hunting a gazelle, and then the rest of his pack will lunge for you too. They will eat at you until all that is left is a blood stain on the floor and then they’ll mop it up and it will be like you never existed.” I swallowed hard. Well, that didn’t sound great. “I have seen good people ruined all for gaining his attention. I need you to remain cool, calm and collected. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Oh God. My stomach hurt.

I don’t know. Could I?

I thought about my life prior to this moment. About my sister and her manipulations, about the times I should have spoken up when I remained soundless. About how she took my silence as weakness, never looking deeper, not knowing how taxing it was.

I hadn’t been silent by choice. I was silenced. There was a difference.

An ember of courage lit in my middle. Yes, it was small, but its glow had the tightness in my chest easing.

I was stronger than she ever gave me credit for. “I can do that.”