I resist the urge to throw my water bottle at his head. "Something real."
Emilio's expression shifts. The grin fades, suddenly serious. More focused.
"Shoot."
"Leone's sister. What happened to her?"
The silence that follows is heavy. Emilio looks away, toward the punching bags hanging at the far end of the room. His jaw works like he's chewing on something that won't go down.
"That's not my story to tell," he says finally.
"I know. But he won't tell me. Every time I bring it up, he changes the subject or shuts down. And I can see it eating at him, Emilio. Whatever happened, it's still there. Under the surface."
"Yeah." He exhales. "It's always been there. Long as I've known him."
"What do you know?"
He's quiet. Then he sits down on the bench beside me, elbows on his knees, hands clasped.
"I know it happened before he came to Aurelio. Before any of this." He gestures vaguely at the compound around us. "He was twelve, I think. Or, uhhh, thirteen. His sister was younger. Nine or ten."
"What was her name?"
"Sofia."
The name settles into me. A dead girl I've never met, connected to a man I love by blood and tragedy.
"Someone took her," Emilio continues. "Rival crew. They wanted something from Leone's father, and they figured a kid was good leverage. The ransom was set, the exchange was planned, and then..." He shakes his head. "It went wrong. I don't know the details. Leone doesn't talk about it. But they found her body three weeks later."
Three weeks. My stomach turns.
"And Leone?"
"Leone was twelve when he made his first kill. The man who took his sister. He tracked him down, found where he lived, and..." Emilio's voice trails off. "You can guess the rest."
I can. The image forms unbidden: a young Leone, younger but already hardening into the man he'd become, standing over a body with blood on his hands. His first kill. Not for money or duty or orders. For revenge.
"That's why he is the way he is," I say quietly.
"Part of it. The rest..." Emilio shrugs. "Life in this world does things to people. Aurelio saw something in him, after. Took him in. Trained him. Gave him a purpose beyond just surviving."
"And turned him into a weapon."
"Gave him a way to use what he already was." Emilio looks at me. "Leone was never going to be a civilian, Alexandra. Not after what happened. Aurelio didn't make him into a killer. He gave him a direction to point."
I absorb that. Try to fit it into the picture I've been building of the man I share a bed with every night. The silences. The nightmares. The way he checks the room before he sleeps, the way he wakes at the slightest sound, the way he holds me like I might disappear if he loosens his grip.
"It all makes sense now."
"We all have a story, Alexandra.” Emilio stands, stretches, picks up the training pad again. "You’re good for him. He's different since you showed up. Less..." He searches for the word. "Frozen."
"Frozen?"
"Leone's been operating on autopilot for years. Goes through the motions. Does the job. Follows orders. But there's nothing behind it, you know? No fire. No reason except that this is what he does, so he keeps doing it." Emilio holds up the pad. "You gave him something to care about again. That's either going to save him or destroy him. Probably both."
"That's reassuring."
"I'm not trying to reassure you. I'm trying to prepare you." His grin returns, but there's an edge to it now. "You're in this,Alexandra. All the way in. Whatever comes next, you face it with him. So you better know what you're fighting for."
