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Survivors who’d done what they had to do.
“Tell me about Malcolm,” Damian said.
She seemed to think about the question. “He made the business better in some ways. More organized. That’s one of the reasons Primo is so loyal to him. But it wasn’t worth the price.”
“What price is that?” Damian asked.
“Primo isn’t well,” she said. “He used to listen to me. Now he only listens to Malcolm, and Malcolm will do anything for money. For control.”
Damian looked at her lip. “Is he the one who did that?”
“Not this time.”
A tear tracked down one cheek, and an invisible hand seemed to close around his heart. Physical pain was one thing, but nothing hurt more than being hurt by someone you loved. He wanted to pull her into his arms then and there. To wipe the tear from her cheek and promise no one would ever hurt her again.
But of course, he could promise her no such thing. She wasn’t his to protect.
“You know I have to end this,” he said. “I can’t show Primo mercy. Especially now.”
“I know.”
“So why did you come?” he asked.
“I have no family but Primo, no real friends.” She said it matter-of-factly, and he knew his pity wouldn’t be welcome. “I just… I guess I needed a place to catch my breath.”
He thought carefully about what he would say next. Later he would wonder if it had been rash, but in the moment, he’d known exactly what he was doing.
Had known exactly what would happen if he did.
“This isn’t a good place to catch your breath.”
He couldn’t tell her about his plans for the following day. Couldn’t tell her that the city would soon be in chaos. The lives of too many men were at stake, and the fact that she’d come to him for sanctuary didn’t mean she was on his side.
“Of course.” She rose to her feet. “Thank you for the drink.”
“You didn’t let me finish; it isn’t safe for you here.”He only hesitated a moment. “But I know a place that is.”
