Page 211 of Rosetti Family New York
"So why, then?"
I turn away, unable to meet her gaze. The truth burns in my throat, demanding to be set free. Something about her makes me want to be honest, and that scares me more than anything.
"You're grieving," I say finally, my voice lower than I intended. "You're looking for a distraction, for something to make you feel better. To make you forget. I get that. But I'm not it."
Her eyes narrow. "That's not what this is."
"Isn't it?" I turn back to face her. "You lost your friend, you're chasing answers, you're vulnerable. And I'm... convenient."
"Convenient?" She laughs, sharp and disbelieving. "You're the least convenient man I've ever met."
"You know what I mean."
"No, I really don't."
I drag a hand across my face, feeling the weight of the words I need to say.
"I've been here before, Sloane. With someone who thought she wanted what I am. Until she saw it up close."
Her silence urges me on, and for once, I don't stop myself.
"Her name was Alisa. She loved the danger, the edge. Until she didn't. Until she saw what I really am."
"And what are you, exactly?"
"A Rosetti," I say, the name heavy on my tongue. "A man who hurts people for a living. Who's good at it."
She doesn't flinch, and it makes me angrier. Makes me want to make her understand.
"She left me the night she saw me put a man in the hospital," I continue, the words spilling out now. "Just for looking at my sister wrong. One minute she thought I was exciting, the next she was calling me a monster. And she was right."
"I'm not her," Sloane says quietly.
"No, you're worse," I snap. "Because you're not even scared. You're so goddamn stubborn you can't see what's right in front of you."
"It's not what you want."
Her voice is clipped, but I hear the anger behind it.
"You don't know what I want," she says. "You don't know what I can handle."
It makes me laugh. Not because it's funny, but because I need to push her further away. Need to piss her off so much she'll walk out and leave me alone with my regrets.
"Trust me. You can't handle it."
Her jaw sets. Her eyes go a shade darker.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. It is."
I stare at her, trying to remember why this is a good plan when it feels so wrong.
"So, what?" she says, voice tight. "You get to decide for both of us?"
"You should be thanking me." My chest burns as I say it. "You think killing a dog is the worst crime anyone can commit, for fuck's sake."
"And you think you know me?"
