"Obligation."
"Yes."
"Is that what I am?"
She finally turns. Her eyes are tired. Dark circles underneath that her concealer can't quite hide.
"What do you want me to say, Dante? That I'm happy you're here? That I enjoy having a wounded mafia enforcer in my bedroom while a cartel hunts for him?"
"I want you to stop pretending you feel nothing."
Her jaw tightens. "I feel plenty. I feel angry. I feel scared. I feel like my life is falling apart again because of your family."
"Our family didn't shoot you. Daniil did."
"And where did I meet Daniil?" She crosses her arms.
I don't answer that.
Marina shakes her head. "Eat your soup. I'll be back in two hours for your medication."
She turns toward the door.
I reach for the nightstand drawer. Pull it open.
"Marina."
She pauses. Hand on the doorframe.
"Before you go." I look down at the drawer's contents. Feel my mouth curve into something that's almost a smile. "Care to explain what I'm looking at here?"
She turns. Frowns. "What are you?—"
Her eyes land on the open drawer.
The color drains from her face.
Let's play, cara.
Marina
The drawer. Thedrawer.
I forgot about the drawer.
For a split second, every muscle in my body coils to scream at him. To rip that smug look off his face with my bare hands. To tell him exactly what kind of invasion of privacy this is.
But I know Dante.
If I scream, he wins.
So I don't.
I force my shoulders down. Unclench my jaw. Take a breath that feels like swallowing glass.
"Do you need a full introduction?" My voice comes out flat. Bored, even. "I can walk you through each one if you're confused about how they work."
Dante's eyebrows rise. He wasn't expecting that.
