I don't understand what he's asking. What this has to do with anything.
"We met in kindergarten," I say slowly. "We just... clicked. She was funny and kind and she always had my back. When other kids were mean, she stood up for me. When I was sad, she made me laugh."
"And when you found out what her family was? What her uncle did? What world she came from?"
My throat tightens.
"That was different."
"Was it?"
I think about Sophia. About the girl I grew up with. The woman who married into the Sartori family. The friend who called me every week for two years even when I didn't answer.
"She was born into it," I say. "She didn't choose?—"
I stop.
The realization hits me like cold water.
Dante was born into it too. His father was a soldato. He grew up in this world before it destroyed his family and left him with nothing.
"Sophia didn't choose her family," Dante says quietly. "Neither did I. Neither did Bruno or Lorenzo or any of us. We were born into this life. The only choice we get is what we do with it."
I'm shaking.
I don't want to be shaking.
"But you kill people," I say. "You've killed people. You told me yourself."
"Yes."
"How can you say that so calmly? How can you just?—"
"Because it's the truth." His voice is steady. "I've killed people who threatened my family. People who would have killed us first if I hadn't stopped them. That's the world I live in. The world I was born into."
I think about Sophia again.
About what I would do if someone threatened her. If someone tried to hurt her.
I remember the hospital. Waking up with my hand bandaged and my best friend crying at my bedside. I remember the fear in her eyes. The guilt.
I remember thinking that I would have done anything to protect her. That I would have traded myself if it meant keeping her safe.
Because that's how people love.
"I would have died for her," I whisper.
Dante nods.
"I know."
"If Daniil had given me a choice. If he'd said he would let her go if I took her place. I would have stayed."
"I know that too."
The tears come before I can stop them.
I hate this. Hate that I'm crying in front of him. Hate that he's seeing me fall apart.
