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Amara smiled slightly, breaking Morana’s thoughts, her entire face softening. “Dante happened.”
Morana frowned, not understanding.
Amara shook her head, grinning softly, her beautiful eyes glistening. “A few years later, Mr. Maroni started Dante’s training with the same men who’d trained Tristan for years. They both trained in the same place sometimes. There had already been talk about Tristan taking over the family when he grew up, and Dante was the obvious heir, being the oldest son and all. It didn’t help that Tristan barely acknowledged anyone, much less spoke to anyone. Dante would try to talk to him and Tristan would shut him down so fast… he was that way with everyone. Only spoke when spoken to, and most of the time, not even then. Dante wasn’t used to not getting his way. It created a lot of tension between them.”
She could imagine.
“Then one night after training, Dante lost it. Got in Tristan’s face. Tristan tried to walk away, and Dante punched him. Tristan broke his jaw.”
Amara paused. “He broke the jaw of the oldest son of Lorenzo Maroni, the Boss of the Tenebrae Outfit.”
Morana felt her eyes widen, the implications making her breath hitch, a shiver running down her spine.
The wind swirled around them, bringing stray, fallen leaves on their laps.
“Was he punished?” she asked in a whisper, afraid of the answer.
Amara’s responsive chuckle surprised her as she shook her head again. “Mr. Maroni called everyone to the mansion. All the staff was there too, watching quietly. Anyways, he created a big scene, demanding the culprit, demanding who had broken his son’s jaw. He took it as a hit to his honor or something.”
Morana leaned forward, her breaths picking up. “Then?”
That little smile on Amara’s face remained. “Dante never spoke up or even looked in Tristan’s direction – he already hated his father. But Tristan did. I remember how stunned I’d been when Tristan stepped forward without hesitation. There was no fear in that boy. None at all. I mean, I’d seen grown men cower before Lorenzo Maroni and him… anyways, Maroni tried to threaten him subtly…”
The wind picked up. Morana shuddered. This just kept getting better and better.
“… and that was the first time I heard Tristan’s voice.”
Morana raised her eyebrows, heart pounding. “What did he say?”
The look of awe on Amara’s face, even at the old memory, matched the wonder in her voice. “God, I still remember it like it was yesterday. Mr. Maroni threatened Tristan, thinking he’d feel obliged, maybe scared, maybe respectful – God knows what he was thinking – and Tristan… he got nose to nose with Mr. Maroni and told him – ‘You ever put a leash on me, I’ll fucking strangle you with it.’ ”
Morana blinked, stunned. “He said what?!”
Amara nodded. “You ever put a leash on me, I’ll fucking strangle you with it. Word for word.”
She tried to wrap her mind around it as astonishment flowed through her. “How old was he?”
“Fourteen.”
Morana sat back, feeling the wind knocked out of her.
Amara nodded, as though she understood completely. “He was fearless, Morana. That was the first time any of us had seen a boy shut the Boss up. That was also the moment Dante decided he was completely Team Tristan. And when his father told him the truth about Tristan to make him stay away, it only made Dante more adamant to befriend that boy.”
Stealing in a quick breath, Morana asked, “So they became a team?”
“He
ll, no!” Amara retorted, shaking her head in fond memories. “Dante was always a charmer on the outside. He could seduce you in one breath while planning a million ways to kill you in the next, and you wouldn’t even know. Tristan didn’t trust him an inch, but he couldn’t shake him off either. Dante was, still is, deceptively stubborn. And though he was the oldest son with responsibilities, Dante went against his father repeatedly by sustaining his association with Tristan. Maroni wanted them to compete. They basically gave him the finger. Over the years, they just sort of fell into this relationship – they’re not really friends or brothers, but they’d not have anyone else on their side in battle. It’s complicated with them.”
Morana stayed silent, digesting all of it.
Twisting the cap off the bottle in her hand, Amara took a sip of water, swallowing slowly and leaning back against the headstone, quiet for a long moment as Morana soaked up everything.
“I was taken a few years later,” she spoke quietly into the space between them, her voice husky, eyes dulling with the memories. “Tristan was the one to find me.”
Morana started at that.
Amara nodded. “Yeah, he found me and left me with Dante while he took care of the men who’d kept me captive. It was after I was found that I truly interacted with Tristan. While I was recovering, he became… more present, I guess, without being obvious about it. I didn’t know back then that it hit too close to home for him. He was being protective of me. Not obviously, and never with people around, but he just… became a presence in my life. He never talked much but the fact that he looked at me, listened if I talked said it all. That’s why I know he’s incredibly protective of women and children. I’ve seen him be that way for years now.”
