She climbed into the back seat, as far from me as possible. I slid in next to her, deliberately sitting close enough that she couldn't ignore my presence.
Marco pulled out of the driveway. The city was forty minutes away.
Forty minutes of Aria sitting rigid beside me, her hands clenched in her lap, her breathing carefully controlled.
"Where exactly are we going?" Her voice was tight.
"Warehouse district. Meeting some dealers who owe us money."
"And you need me there because...?"
"Because you need to see what happens when people don't pay what they owe."
She turned to look at me, those brown eyes searching my face. "Why are you doing this? Why are you so determined to—to expose me to all of this?"
"Because innocence is a luxury you can't afford anymore." I kept my voice level even though something in my chest was tightening. "You think my father married those other women because he loved them? He married them because they were useful. And the second they stopped being useful—or became inconvenient—theydisappeared. If you want to be different, you need to be strong enough that he can't dispose of you easily."
"So this violence is supposed to make me strong?" She asked her voice a bit shaky, how could she not understand that I was doing this to protect her, because heaven forbid I am not around or there for her tomorrow, I want to be sure she won't die like… like my mom. I wish I could tell her all this but she was already scared. I didn't want to scare her the more.
I pulled her hands to me, she didn't resist, they were warm and fit perfectly into mine.
"Understanding consequences makes you strong. Seeing what happens when people underestimate this world makes you smart. And knowing that I'm one of the more merciful options in your future makes you realistic."
She flinched at that and pulled her hands away from mine, looking away, staring out the window.
I wanted to reach over, take her hand again, tell her it would be okay. But that would be a lie. Nothing about this situation was okay.
"I don't want to watch people get hurt," Her voice was so quiet I almost didn't hear it.
"I know." And fuck, I did know. I could see it in every line of her body. "But you need to. Because one day—maybe soon—you're going to have to make a choice. And that choice might involve violence. Might involve doing something that terrifies you. And you need to know if you're capable of it."
"I'm not—"
"You are." I did reach over then, just briefly, my fingers brushing her clenched hands. "You're stronger than you think, Aria. You just haven't needed to be yet."
She didn't respond. Just sat there, trembling slightly, as we drove toward the warehouse.
I hated this. Hated that I was the one showing her the darkness. Hated that I was stripping away her innocence deliberately, methodically.
But I hated the alternative more. The alternative whereshe went into this marriage blind, naive, unprepared. Where my father broke her slowly because she didn't understand the game she was playing.
At least this way, she had a chance.
Even if it meant she'd look at me like I was a monster. Even if it meant destroying whatever fragile connection we'd built.
We arrived at the warehouse. Marco parked. Two of our guys—Tony and Sal—were already there, leaning against their car.
"Stay in the car." I looked at Aria directly. "No matter what you see or hear, you stay in this car. Understood?"
She nodded, her face pale.
I got out. Marco followed. Tony and Sal fell in behind us as we walked into the warehouse.
The dealers were waiting—three of them, trying to look casual and failing miserably. They'd been skimming from shipments for months. Not large amounts. Just enough that they thought we wouldn't notice.
They thought wrong.
"Gentlemen." I kept my voice pleasant. Friendly even. "I believe you have something for me."
