Page 29 of Fall Before Her Throne

I sighed, looking down at my shoes while I tried to figure out how to dive into this landmine of a discussion topic. “I saw your tattoo.”

His hands fell to the side, thumping on the top of the bed. “I figured. Does everyone know?”

“No, just Leona, me, and Obi,” I said. “When did you get that?”

He was quiet for a moment. “After I turned twenty-one.”

Four years. He’d had that tattoo and hidden it from me for four fucking years.

“Why?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the ceiling. “Do you remember the night of my birthday, when you and I went to the club and Leona followed us?”

A sad smile quirked the edge of my lips. “How could I forget?”

She’d surprised the hell out of us at that club, and we’d both freaked out. When we brought her back to the house, Luciano had yelled at her before grounding her for a month. I’d taken her upstairs to get her ready to sleep, while Max had talked with the Don at his office and taken the brunt of his anger for exposing his only daughter to risk.

“That night, the Don tried to force me to marry Leona after she turned eighteen.”

Everything record-scratched to a stop. “What?”

He tilted his head to the side so I could see the clear grey of his titanium eyes and the honesty written there. “He found out that I knew he’d killed my father. He realized I was planning a coup against him, and he tried to force me to marry Leona so he’d have control over me and over her.”

My arms dropped to my sides as I stood straighter. My voice dropped to a whisper. “And you said no?”

He nodded. “It would have trapped her in this life. Trapped her to me, trapped me to him. I couldn’t do it.”

“Max…” I had no idea what to say.

“He threatened you too, you know.” His voice went hollow. “He told me that if I didn’t do as he said, it would be easy to kill you. No one would care; no one would know. I thought if I could just keep Luciano focused on me, I could get you both out. Once I killed him, you’d be free.”

Minutes of silence stretched between us. All this time, and he could have married her. Now, she wore my ring, and she’d be my wife instead.

Because he gave her up.

I sat on the side of the bed and let my back flop down so we lay side by side. My heart thundered inside my chest. The journals he gave me, the proof that the Don had been manipulating his father and then him…

“You were trying to protect us.”

“A lot of fucking good that did.” He let out a bitter laugh and then grimaced as the movement wracked his battered ribs. His hand pressed to the bandages—the stitches I had put there. “Look where it got us.”

God, what was I supposed to do with this?

He’d lied to us for years.

But he also might have saved our lives. Countless times. Protected us from the Don. Tried to give us a better life.

“It sounds like it kept us alive.” My throat tightened as I forced my next words out. “Were we best friends? Did you think of us that way? I fucking did.”

“Yes, I did, Cas,” he said, voice strained, with wide eyes. “You have always been my closest friend. My best friend.”

“Friends don’t hide this kind of shit.”

“I just…I didn’t—I was afraid.” He shrugged and turned his head away so I couldn’t see his expression. “Anyway, I got the tattoo a few weeks after that night. When I realized how ruthless I would have to become, and that there was no future for the three of us together. Only you two could get out. It was supposed to be…a memento. I don’t fucking know.”

We were both quiet for a moment as the weight of his words settled over us like a blanket.

The truth. Finally.