My father stills for a moment, then steps into the other man. They’re of similar height, but my father seems to dwarf the other man when he crowds his space.
“Then run along back to your own syndicate, Byrne,” my father grits out. “If the Riccis come for my head, I have no problem incinerating their bodies in the same barrel. Right next to their fucking son.”
He shoulders past the white-haired man he called Byrne, pushing his way through the door and entering the room where I assume they’re holding Elio. I follow close behind, anticipation spurring me forward in hopes I can finally have some answers.
“Bella,“ Elio’s voice yells in alarm. I see him scramble to get on his feet, but the man who came into the cell and left hits him in the face with his gun and Elio falls back with a groan.
From the way he looks, that wasn’t the first hit he’s taken. He’s bleeding from multiple cuts and one eye is swollen shut, while his normally pristine clothes are torn and smeared with dirt and blood. For some unknown reason, seeing him in this condition doesn’t bother me in the least. It should more than bother me; it should make me sick. Shouldn’t it? But it doesn’t. What kind of monster am I?
“I’ve been so worried about you,” my husband says, this time in a voice distorted by a busted lip.
Big man hits him again; this time blood prays his shirt, and Elio coughs.
“You don’t get to fucking speak to her,” he growls while stepping away.
I start to move forward so I can face my husband and the questions that have nagged at me since I woke up from my coma. An arm snakes around my waist and I’m pulled back into a hard chest. I try to call up the urge to fight back, to strike. Instead sinking into the security of the arms wrapped around me. I lean back, pushing myself closer, to see who has me.
I should’ve known. Dream Man frowns back down at me and I wonder what he looks like when he smiles—if it’s as breathtaking as the one he gifted me in my memory.
“Are you sure?” he asks me, in a whisper meant for only me.
I nod, and he releases me. I take a deep breath to steel myself, and push myself forward. Based on how these people are acting, I fear the answers I’m going to get. If I get any at all.
“Baby,” Elio pleads when I come to a stop in front of him.
Baby?Elio has never once called mebaby. I shudder at the endearment. Coming from him, it sounds almost condescending, in a way it doesn’t when Dream Man says it.
“I want answers, Elio,” I say, raising my chin and steadying my tone.
Elio watches me for a moment before his face cracks into a smile and he bursts into a fit of laughter.
“Tell her,” my father growls and I can tell Dream Man steps closer to me by the sudden shift in the atmosphere.
Elio’s laughing ceases and he beams at my father, then at me.
“Malia, my beautiful bride,” Elio purrs. “I must admit I was rather lucky when I knocked that pretty little rebellious head of yours stupid and you woke from your coma without your memories.”
I suck in a breath, my body falling still at the admission.
“Your amnesia allowed me to manipulate you into the submissive bitch you should have been. Spin stories to make me look like a fucking god while I built up your need for retribution against yourprecious daddy.”
Dream Man spins me to face him, grabbing my chin and tilting it up to meet his gaze.
“Breathe, Little Warrior, he wants your pain,” he whispers to me.
“Maybe it was yours then,” Elio quips from behind me in a bored tone.
Dream Man’s hand falls from my face and he looks over my head at Elio.
“What was mine?” he growls.
I turn around to face my husband as the pieces start to slide into place. My hands instantly wrap around my stomach, and I suddenly feel completely hollowed out.
“If the bitch hadn’t tried to run off and wound up shot, the kid wouldn’t have died… from that at least.”
Tears escape my eyes and I can feel the tension rising in the room as Dream Man stiffens behind me. Elio makes a show of yawning, and the room falls silent as everything is laid out. Tyjae and Griffin stand near me and, from their grim expressions, I know Elio is telling the truth.
He chuckles again, getting a thrill out of how fucked-up he is as a person and the things he’s done and said. He manipulated me into a relationship, I slept with himwillinglyat first because of it. I ammarriedto this monster.