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"What does she do now?"

"She still teaches, a lot of it volunteer based work with kids. I don’t think she will stop working until the day she dies."

"You miss her?"

"Yeah." I lower my gaze. "She’s a great mom. We didn’t have much money, but she made sure we had enough to eat. Supported me when I wanted to learn music. She encouraged me to pursue my interest in playing the piano."

"Were you good?" He raises the wine goblet filled with water to his lips.

"Better than average. If I’d kept at it, perhaps I could've become a performer, but then… I met Fabio when I was eighteen, got married at nineteen, and was pregnant at twenty-one. My mother warned me about him, you know." I twist my fingers in my lap. "I didn’t listen to her. I thought she was jealous that I’d met a man who would take care of me. When I got pregnant, she was there for me. I never told her how abusive Fabio could be toward me, but she guessed. She told me to leave him. No, she begged me to leave him, actually. But I didn’t. I thought I could make it work."

I raise my hand to the small scar on my wrist, then realize what I’m doing. I drop it, but not before he notices it.

"He did that to you?" Seb’s voice is soft, but there is an underlying steel to it that makes me flinch. "Answer me, Princess. Did he do that?"

"It was nothing; just a small scratch. It healed quickly."

"What did he do?" His gaze narrows on me.

I wave my hand. "Seriously, it doesn't matter."

"It does to me." He lowers his voice to a hush, "What did thatcarognado?"

I hesitate.

"You will tell me." He leaves no room for disagreement, and my belly quivers. A melting sensation assaults my chest, and I feel like I am sinking. When he uses that Dom tone, I cannot refuse him.

"He—" I gulp. "He pushed me away, and I hit the side of the table."

Seb winces. The color drains from his features. His jaw tics and storm clouds gather in his eyes. "He scarred you. He laid his hand on you." His shoulders bunch.

"You have scars, too." I touch the puckered skin at his temple.

"It's not the same thing. My scar is a fallout of my chosen way of life, something I expect in my profession. You, on the other hand, were innocent. He should have protected you. Instead, he hurt you. I’m going to kill thebastardo."

Is he angry on my behalf? When was the last time anyone was angry on my behalf? The band around my chest tightens, and the pressure behind my eyes increases. But Avery... I have to think of Avery.

"He’s still the father of my child. I’m not saying that to justify anything, but he’s her blood. I can’t let anything happen to him, knowing how much it could affect her," I say in a low voice.

The skin at the edges of his eyes tightens, and his grip on his goblet of water tightens.

"Seb," I clear my throat, "promise me you’ll spare his life."

"Cazzo."His forearms flex. The stem of the wine-goblet breaks, and the remaining water splashes on the table.

"Oh." I lean back in my chair as the goblet part of the glass rolls over and crashes to the floor.

I reach for a towel and try to mop up the water on the table, but Seb places his hand on mine, stopping me. "I can’t promise not to teach him a lesson, but…" he blows out a breath, "I’ll spare his life."

I jerk my chin in his direction.

"I’m sorry he hurt you, Princess," he says in a gentler voice. "You know I’d never hurt you like that, right?"

I glance away, and his grasp on my hand tightens. "Look at me, Elsa."

I turn my gaze in his direction.

"Tell me you believe me when I say that I’ll never lay a hand on you."

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