Page 49 of Forced Bratva Bride

I nodded, though the information wasn't new to me. The Ajello family's structure was something I'd memorized years ago, as I had with all our enemies and allies.

“He practically raised us after our mother died,” she continued. “Gastone, Carlo, and Dino were just kids, and I was a little baby. My father...” She paused, a shadow passing behind her eyes. “He wasn't always kind.”

I leaned forward slightly. “In what way?”

She took a sip of her cappuccino, leaving a small dot of foam on her upper lip that she didn't notice. Without thinking, I reached across and wiped it away with my thumb. She froze at my touch, her eyes widening.

“Sorry,” I murmured, withdrawing my hand.

She shook her head, as if clearing away a thought. “My father believed in discipline. When I misbehaved, or when he thought I'd misbehaved, he had... methods.”

“Methods,” I repeated, my hand clenching into fists already at the tone she used, laced with such pain.

“He used to lock me in dark closets,” she said, her voice suddenly smaller. “For hours sometimes. Once, for a whole day without food or water when I spilled wine on a guest's suit by accident. I was seven.”

My chest turned cold, and my heart stopped. The image of a small girl,Larissa,locked in darkness, made my jaw clench.

“I developed a fear of small spaces and the dark,” she continued, her gaze distant now. “I still can't ride in elevators. Gastone would sometimes slip notes under the door to me, or whisper stories through the keyhole to keep me calm. Once, he even got locked in with me on purpose so I wouldn't be alone.”

“And your other brothers?”

“They didn't know how to stand up to him then. They were scared too.” She blinked, refocusing on me. “Gastone protected all of us as much as he could. When he took over, he promised things would be different. And they were.”

I nodded, understanding what she meant. Gastone Ajello, the man I had it out for, was also the boy who'd whispered stories through a keyhole to comfort his terrified sister.

“What about you?” she asked suddenly. “What was it like growing up with Caspian?”

I wasn't prepared for the question, and I wasn’t finished with this conversation. The sheer anger I felt toward her father and myself was spilling over.

“Larissa,” I shook my head, needing to say what I did. “You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” she whispered, reaching over and clasping her hand over mine. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I do,” I said, briskly. “When I first took you, I hadn’t realized… didn’t know…”

I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I’d kept her in the dark, in a small cell. I’d made her relive her worst nightmares, and I didn’t know how to undo it.

But, I didn’t need to say a word, because she squeezed my hand tight and gently. “I know,” she said simply, with a tender smile that melted my heart. “You weren’t to know.”

In that moment, I realized just how precious Larissa Ajello was. The girl had a heart of gold.

Soon, she went back to her original question and I didn’t bother to stay fixated on her family life. Something told me she needed to change the topic, and I was more than happy to ease those painful memories from her mind.

“About Caspian,” I said. “He was always... intense, different. But he looked out for me, for all of us. In his own way.”

“And your parents?”

“Dead before I really knew them.” I surprised myself with the honesty. “Caspian remembers, but I don’t.”

She reached across the table again and laced her fingers through mine. “I'm sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Still. To grow up without parents...”

“We had family,” I said, thinking of my uncle who had raised us, who later turned out to not be the man we thought he was. “We survived.”

“More than survived,” she said, her eyes meeting mine with conviction. “You thrived. Built something powerful.”

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