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I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Why do you think he picked me?”
Was it because he knew I was weak? Desperate for love? An easy target? Or because he knew I was stuck with nowhere to go?
“I can only guess without talking to him. But I would assume he wanted someone he could trap. Someone alone and vulnerable. Who had no one to help her.” My chest constricted as she confirmed my fears. “You didn’t have any family and very few friends who he quickly isolated you from. He liked having power over you.”
It had happened so slowly and all at once. It was little things at first. Always wanting to join me when I went out with my friends. Then making me feel guilty when I saw them instead of him.
Didn’t I love him? Didn’t I want to spend time together?
Soon I stopped seeing my friends, so it didn’t become a fight. Then, when we got engaged, he told me to quit my restaurant job because he made enough money for both of us.
Only after the first slap did I realize I had nobody to call. No one to tell. Realized how thoroughly he’d trapped me.
“Why hide it?” My question was to myself. I’d never understood that part. “He was already a criminal.”
“Because he knew the family would never approve of his actions,” she sighed, but seeing the confused expression on my face, she continued. “Did Vander ever tell you about their father’s business?”
I shook my head. Why would he? And Mitchell and I had certainly never discussed it.
“Sex trafficking.” Fear slid through my veins. It chilled my skin until I shivered. Suddenly, my life was looking like a fucking fairy tale. “That’s why they fought for control. They couldn’t stand it anymore. But it’s not my story to tell. You should ask Vander. Needless to say, he would have put a stop to your abuse if he’d known. He’s feeling a lot of guilt that he didn’t.”
“Right.” I snorted. Vander worshiped his little brother. He might not have liked the idea of him beating me, but he wouldn’t have gone against him.
She tilted her head, staring at me with an expression I didn’t recognize. Sadness? Confusion? Curiosity? “You don’t believe he loves you.”
“What?” Love? Was she insane? Did she even know the man I’d married? “No! Of course, he doesn’t.”
She was crazy. I was a responsibility. A way to protect the family. An inconvenience at best.
“You should really talk to him.” Her eyes widened like she said something she shouldn’t. My spine tingled, telling me she had information. A secret that involved me.
“Alessandra, tell me what you mean?”
She rolled her lips together, thinking. My own body grew tense as I waited. Thankfully, she came to her decision quickly.
“Don’t you remember who was there when you had the miscarriage?”
“No.” I blocked it all out. I couldn’t relive that time without falling apart. Without wanting to slit my wrist so I could see my baby. Only at night, when my mind was weak, did those memories penetrate.
“He was in the hospital room with you.” Her gaze softened as she looked at me. “Weeks after, I’d found him sitting outside your bedroom door. He’d stay there at night, listening to you cry. Waiting to give you anything you needed. Hoping you’d ask for help, but you never came out. He was the one who brought you three meals a day. Who took care of you so you didn’t die, too.”
An unfamiliar feeling, similar to panic, settled in my chest. Apparently, there was a lot I didn’t know about my current husband.
19
Vander
The knife twirled in my hand, but not even the rhythmic habit could stop the pressure behind my head. My mother’s voice grated against my skull as the conversation went in circles.
“She’s too young for you.” My jaw clenched at the reminder. I didn’t need her to tell me I was a pervert for wanting someone ten years my junior. Or how wrong it was that I’d wanted her since she was barely out of her teens.
I had already told myself the same thing for years. It hadn’t stopped this desire thumping through my veins. This yearning to just be near her.
“She’s hardly a baby.” I couldn’t say that she’d survived more than people twenty years older than her. I wouldn’t tell my mother what my brother did to her. What he was. I didn’t need the guilt from her, too.
I should’ve seen it. Steered him towards the right path. Protected him from our uncle better.
“How will this look?” She said for the hundredth time. “There will be stories in the papers. Attention. You don’t want that.”
