Page 115 of Reign

My eyes roll so hard they practically leave my head. “Please.”

“Santo had already made his position abundantly clear.”

“Ugh.” I sink lower into my chair. “Fuck Santo.”

“Your affection for your brother is touching.”

“Why is everybody so scared of him?”

Luciano stares at me.

I lift my chin. “Scythe isn’t even that scary.”

“You’ve never met the version of Santo the rest of the world knows.”

“Please. Angelo pulled a gun on me not even six months ago. I’m used to deranged men.”

“Angelo did what?”

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Why did he pull a gun on you?”

I push a piece of food around my plate.

“Elena.”

He doesn’t repeat the question or crowd the silence with another. He simply waits, and his patience is somehow harder to resist than a demand.

The explanation begins slipping out before I decide to give it.

I tell him about my mother’s journal. About taking it from Santo’s library and leaving it in Angelo’s penthouse like an idiot. About Adriana finding it and deciding my mother’s life belonged to everyone at dinner.

It was the only part of her I’d managed to keep for myself.

“And I snapped.” I turn my glass between my fingers. “Momentarily.”

“How momentarily?”

“I told your sister she was the worst thing to happen to my family.”

A slow breath leaves him.

“Angelo didn’t appreciate that.”

“No,” Luciano says. “I imagine he didn’t.”

I shift in my chair. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Luciano picks up his napkin, wipes the corner of his mouth, then sets it down calmly.

“Adriana never did know how to keep her nose out of things.”

A laugh slips out of me before I can stop it.

He stays completely serious, which only makes it worse.

“That’s your sister.”