Page 103 of Wounded King
I wait until everyone is settled, Luciano hands out coffee and water, and Violet takes the seat next to me, clasping my hand. Felix chooses this moment to make his grand entrance.
"What ishedoing here?" Linda turns to Violet. "Why is he here?"
"Because this is where Violet lives, as my fiancée," I tell her before Violet has a chance.
A sharp intake of breath from Linda is meant as a warning, before she falls into her litany of accusations: "Is this why we are here? Why we had to leaveourhouses? Because my daughter is engaged to you, and that's brought danger to our front steps?"
A tremor moves through Violet. I can tell that she is all too ready to take on the guilt of that accusation. And that sends tremors of rage through me.
"No, that danger has always been lurking, hasn't it,Linda?" I lean forward, my gaze searing into hers. Her eyes widen. Her mouth opens and closes, ready to say something, but I can also see the wheels turning inside her head.What does he know? How much does he know?
I nod at her,everything.
Violet's hand in mine clutches at me; without looking, I know she's staring at me too, filled with questions.
But it's Sebastian who breaks the silence. "You can't talk to my mother like that."
Lindacan't hide her satisfaction at her youngest coming to her defense, which is when I see it. See the real family dynamics.
The picture Violet painted of her mother is a far cry from the woman sitting across from me now. This one is controlling, calculating, and obsessed with power, just like Margarita. She wields it differently, though. Not with threats or blood, but with guilt, manipulation, and that quiet kind of dominance that seeps under your skin before you realize you're bleeding.
"What are you saying?" Lee asks, shrewder than I would have expected after what Violet told me about him. Interesting.
"Do you want me to fill in the blanks, or do you?" I offerLindathe choice.
She glares at me. "Ifhefound us, all our blood is on your hands," she finally says.
"Maybe, or maybe it was only a matter of time beforehedid." I acknowledge. "Either way, I am the only one who can protect you now, so I think you should give me a really good reason to want to."
"Marcello," Violet cries out, looking alarmed. I squeeze her hand,trust me. She seems to get my unspoken message, but her hand is turning clammy. I move my thumb across her flesh to assure her I'm here and won't ever let her go.
I cock my head, expectantly waiting forLindato make up her mind. "I didn't have a choice," she decides to be the one to turn her children's lives upside down. I don't interrupt her, only watch the master manipulator at work, weaving a tale I'm sure she's had ready for years.
"He would have killed us," she starts.
Violet stiffens so abruptly that the baby stirs. "He? Who? Our father?"
"What?" Elaine wakes from the stupor she's been in since they arrived, possibly since Luciano got her out of her house.
"Yes, your father," Linda continues, her eyes welling up with tears. "He told me he worked for the casino as security. I swear I didn't know that he was involved with the mob. I didn't. When I found out he was anenforcer, I… I had to get you kids out of there."
"You said Dad was dead," Elaine looks confused, and Violet is leaning forward, eating up every breadcrumb her mother throws at her.
"What would you have me have told you, Elaine? That your father was a hired killer for the mafia, and we had to flee in the middle of the night? That wasn't a burden I could put on you children."
Perfectly timed, her voice breaks. Tears sparkle in her lashes, and she spins her tale like a virtuoso playing a violin—so smooth, so heartbreaking, you don't realize the strings are strangling you.
I watch her with the cold detachment of a surgeon preparing for a cut. Every word out of her mouth is poison coated in sugar. And her kids are drinking it up like it's holy water. Violet is clutching my hand tightly now, but I can feel the hesitation in her pulse—the need to believe in the mother she's always adored.
Lindais counting on that. She's played this role for so long, she probably believes it herself. The brave mother. The selfless martyr. The poor widow who gave up everything to protect her children from the monsters.
But what if sheisthe monster?
"I knew he'd kill me if I tried to leave," Linda goes on with a practiced tremble. "So I took what I could, including the cash he kept hidden in the safe. And I ran. I had no one, nothing. I did everything to keep you all safe."
Bullshit.
I had Luciano look into her bank accounts—yes, accounts with ansat the end—eleven million dollars in total. Money, I would bet my last dime on, she stole from her husband to fund her life of secrecy, not sacrifice.
