Siena nodded. She wasn’t thinking too much about it yet. Every day the reality of his death sank in a little more. “I haven’t really processed his death. I was there that night, up in my room. We’d had a fight.” Her throat closed at the admission. She didn’t know why she’d blurted that out, but she couldn’t take it back.

Emma’s face grew even softer. “That makes it all the harder for you.”

Elijah steered her to a chair opposite Emma’s, put a gentle hand to her belly, and she sank into it. He snagged one of the beers Jake had brought, and perched on the arm of her chair just as Jake had done. Even she could see the very line of his body was protective.

Siena swallowed the lump forming. She didn’t know how to take Elijah this way. She was completely unprepared for his dual personality. “I’m pretty certain I’m responsible for his death.” She said it more to Elijah than to Jake and Emma.

Drake sat in the chair beside hers and he swung his head toward her, suddenly alert. Jake leaned closer to her. Emma shook her head as if denying the statement.

Elijah reached down and threaded his fingers through hers and pressed her hand to his thigh. “Why would you think that, mi vida?”

His voice was so gentle she had to blink back tears. How could he be so sweet to her? How could she believe he was real? She’d never had sweet before, not even from her grandfather, and she had no idea what to do with it.

She pressed her lips together, knowing they were all looking at her. Knowing she’d brought it on herself and she had to face the reality of what had happened that night. She had no idea why the sight of Emma, pregnant, with Jake hovering so close to her, had given her the courage to tell them, to tell Elijah, but she knew it was Elijah she was telling. It was Elijah she was confessing to. It was Elijah she needed absolution from.

“Paolo was Nonno’s choice for me. He had planned that we get married. I came home that night, and Paolo was waiting for me and he was furious.” She glanced up at Elijah. Met his eyes. He knew why. He would know his scent was all over her and Paolo would know they’d had sex.

Elijah pressed her hand tighter against his thigh as if he could shield her—shield both of them from what was coming. He took a long swig of beer.

Her eyes on Elijah, she continued. “Paolo beat me up. Not just slapped me. He used his fists on me. He kicked me.”

Emma gasped. “Oh my God, Siena. That’s terrible. Your grandfather must have been furious.”