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I was conflicted. I pitied her, but I also wanted to kill her.

She scooted back and took deep breaths now that my hand wasn’t wrapped around her throat anymore. “What is your name?”

“You know my name.”

“No, you never told me.”

I lifted up my left arm, showing the sleeve of tattoos that depicted the various bones in my limb.

Her eyes narrowed. “Your father is your namesake. My aunt is mine.”

“The blood war never ended, Vanessa. It’s only beginning.”

She moved to her feet, holding herself with pride despite the fact that she was half my size and only possessed a sliver of my strength. “You’re a wealthy man now. You’ve made it on your own after coming from nothing. My father would say that’s the true test of a man, to make something out of nothing, to stand on his own two feet. You can move on from this and start over. You can end this war for good and change our fate. Let the past go. I’m willing to do that if you are.”

Just a second ago, she was livid and emotional. Now she was pragmatic once again, putting aside her hate and focusing on the future. That was a quality of a leader, of a survivor. Her intelligence was keen and her resilience admirable. “My mother wouldn’t be dead right now if my father were alive.”

“My aunt wouldn’t be dead if your father hadn’t killed her.”

I stared her down, knowing she had the upper hand in the argument.

“Don’t expect me to apologize when my family has been the victim in all of this. We retaliated because we had to. My family has walked away from their previous lives and lived peacefully making wine. Let it go.”

“I can’t.”

She sighed deeply, her eyes narrowing. “You can’t win this, Bones. Even if you kill me and satisfy your delusional need for revenge, my father won’t stop until you’re ripped apart. This is a suicide mission.”

My life had no value. I was too fucked up in the head to ever live a normal life. I spent my time with whores and made my living as a hitman. Joy wasn’t in my vocabulary. Perhaps if my life had been different, I would have had a better chance. The Barsettis were a close clan, loyal to one another and happy. That made me hate them even more. “I know.”

3

Vanessa

Bones guided me to a bedroom on the second floor. “Richard has clothes for you on the bed.” He turned the knob and pushed the door open. He turned away, like the conversation had been completed.

I was more confused now than I was before. “I thought you were going to kill me.”

He was still shirtless because his shirt and jacket were soaked in his blood. He slowly turned around, a man ripped with muscles and strength. Tattoos covered most of his skin, but the black ink couldn’t hide the definition of his abs and the thickness of his pecs. Built like a brick house, he was enormous. The muscles in his arms bulged. The only softness he possessed was his blue eyes. They were far too beautiful to belong to a man so spiteful and cold. I wondered if he inherited them from his mother because his father didn’t deserve to have them. “Looking forward to it?”

“Just want to know what’s going on.” A part of me hoped he would change his mind. I needed him to let me go. I was too young to die, and my parents had suffered enough. They shouldn’t have to lose their only daughter.

“It takes time to plan the perfect death.” He turned his back on me and walked away, the muscles in his back rippling as he moved. He had a deep arch in his back, and his spine was flanked with muscle on either side.

I expected him to take me against my will, especially after he kissed me against the van. But if he was going to do that, it would have happened by now. I walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind me. The door couldn’t lock, so I suspected this was the place his other prisoners stayed. The room was plain, with just a bed, a single nightstand, and one window. There weren’t bars on the outside of it, and I knew that was because there was nowhere to run. I’d die in the snow and get lost in the darkness if I tried.

I sat on the bed and pulled my knees to my chest. Now that I was alone without a witness, tears burned in my eyes. I thought about my mother, about the horrible things that had happened to her.

My mama.

Bones had raped her and kept her as a prisoner. She was probably beaten just the way my aunt was. She probably suffered every single day until my father rescued her. He took care of her, and they fell in love. My mother had never said where they met, and their past always seemed to be shrouded in mystery.

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