Elena couldn’t believe the horror this night had become. She’d actually been looking forward to the awkward meal. Taking a deep breath, Elena immediately let it out in a hard gust. Ash and smoke scalded the back of her throat, bringing her eyes up to where Pyotr and Leon were standing toe to toe, their near silent violence burgeoning with every tight gesture.
Unable to make out their words through the quiet rumbling of their growls, Elena pushed past Linda. Against her better judgement and all caution, she brushed her fingers down Pyotr’s arm to gain his attention. In the next second, she wished she hadn’t. She couldn’t hold up against all of that aggression aimed straight at her. Crumpling over her middle with a plaintive whine, she showed her blatant submission. Humiliating herself as she bent low at the waist under the weight of his thunderous growl.
“Show your future mate some respect,” Leon shouted, shoving Pyotr away.
Elena couldn’t track what happened next as their roars of challenge reverberated through the crowded restaurant. She only knew violence was erupting all around her. Instinct had her falling to floor, squeezing her far too fragile body into the cramped space between two bench seats. She prayed Linda had gotten out of the way soon enough.
It seemed to go on forever. The wet smack of flesh punched through the air, their growls and snapping teeth too loud evenas they crashed through tables and shattered good china. Elena screamed as one of the seats hiding her jostled, crushing her as a great weight was thrown against it.
Large hands reached into the shadowed space, grabbing her flailing legs. Dragging her out into the light with a commanding growl that turned her spine to water. Elena stopped fighting. She clung to narrow hips as a firm grip guided her up, climbing the mountainous frame as his hand came to her back to support her. Sucking in a shaky breath, she realized her mistake far too late.
Woodsmoke and evergreens invaded her senses. Not the rich smells of winter as she’d expected. Her eyes swung up, meeting the blazing blue of Pyotr’s rage. Back stiff as blood dripped from his cut lip, he bared his teeth at her. A clear warning for her to drop her gaze that she obeyed.
Elena had lost that right. She felt the cold, sterile wall building between them the longer Leon’s hand branded her back. Nothing more than another female unworthy of Pyotr’s attention. Tears burned the back of her eyes, trembling on her lashes before spilling down wan cheeks. Elena pushed at Leon’s chest, hating the rush of warmth twisting through her stomach as he tightened his hold.
Pyotr didn’t say a word as he collected his torn jacket from the floor. His footsteps crunched over broken glass and shards of porcelain as he stormed past them, shoving tables and chairs out of his way. One of the glass doors shattered under the power of his hand flinging it open, the tinkling laughter of it obscene in the midst of this horror show.
“Put me down,” Elena sobbed, shoving at Leon. Trying to twist away from him despite the fact her feet dangled a good foot above the ground.
“There’s glass,” he snapped, hiking her higher until his arm clamped over her thighs beneath the soft bell of her skirt.
“I don’t care, put me down!”
“Be still.”
Did he even have to try with that growling command? It seemed so effortless for him to control her, making her go limp in his too tight embrace as he followed the trail of destruction Pyotr had left. Leon carried her out into the misty night, refusing to put her down until the blocky SUV appeared at the sidewalk. Making a spectacle of it all, humiliating her even further. Letting anyone with eyes to see that she was ruined.
“Stop touching me,” Elena snarled, her hand arcing through the air. She never expected her palm to connect, the sharp sting blooming across her skin. Watching on in horror, a perfect pink imprint of her hand appeared on his cheek.
“You should show me a little gratitude.”
“For what, exactly, Marchetti,” Elena hissed, the last wisp of her fear dissolving beneath the fiery burst of her anger. “For ruining everything?Again? For humiliating me in front of everyone? Just what exactly do you think I should be grateful for?”
Leon growled, fingers curling around her hips as he lifted Elena straight up into the backseat where Linda whimpered and cowered.
“For saving you from that.”
“Thatwas my last option,” Elena whispered, tears flooding down her cheeks now. “No one will have me now. I will never get out.”
A midnight black shadow slithered its way through his dark eyes as he leaned in through the open door, caging Elena against the seat despite Linda’s stammering tirade about the impropriety of it all.
“Excuse me, sir.” Jamie inserted himself between them, pushing Leon back onto the sidewalk with a firm hand. Pitching his voice low enough only the three of them could hear, he said, “She’ll have it hard enough as it is. Don’t make it worse, sir.”
The door shut hard on the same cold, calm mask Elena hadcome to hate. He was incapable of feeling anything. He and Marjory deserved one another.
“You’re ruined,” Linda wailed before muffling her sobs into a pretty handkerchief.
“Marco will be beside himself,” Elena murmured to her reflection in the darkly tinted window as the car sped off.
THREE
ELENA
Five Days Later
Elena stared at the row of coffins, counting them once more. Five. The number hadn’t changed in the span of seconds since she’d done it last.
Marco. Paul. Tony. Francis. Valente.
