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Sweetheart?
“Shhh.” Victor tucks the blanket around me. “It’s time to rest. I pushed you too far.”
Wasn’t that the point?
“If you don’t stop talking, I will gag you.”
I didn’t realize I was still talking. My throat is raw. Victor gets me more water and climbs into bed with me. His arms cradle me, pulling me against the solid wall of his body. I close my eyes and let myself drift. . .
And it occurs to me that I’ve never been held this close before, not since I was young. Before my mother died, and my world turned cold.
“It was for my mother,” I say. “That’s why I targeted Stephanos.”
“I know.”
“I knew it! I knew you knew.”
“Yes, little one, you were right.” A kiss on my temple.
“He killed her outside of the pasta makers,” I tell him. Words bubble out of me like I’m a bottle of champagne, newly uncorked. “It was meant to look like the Vesuvis did it. But I dug and figured out. . . I found out. . .”
Victor touches me, and I realize my face is wet.
“It was him,” I say. My eyes are burning, so I keep them closed. “He wanted to kill her. To incite a war.”
“Shhhh.”
There’s a monster in my chest, clawing out of me, but I finish what I have to tell him. “She was on her way to pick me up from school and stopped to get fresh cavatelli. My favorite.” And then it hurts too much. I can’t say any more.
A long time later, Victor says. “It’s not your fault. You know that, right?”
I don’t know anything.
“You’re going to be all right, my Lucrezia. You will heal from this.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” I mold my fingers into the chopping hand gesture in case he doesn’t get it. No.
His laugh is a gust of wintry wind on my face. “Very well. You will decide for yourself.”
That sounds better.
“Now go to sleep. We can argue more in the morning. As much as you like.”
I yawn, but I’m suddenly more awake. My pain has leaked away, gone like it’s never been. I wiggle my hips, trying to nestle deeper into the bedclothes, only to realize I’m rubbing against Victor. I give up and sigh. “I can’t sleep.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I don’t want to. When I wake up, you’ll hurt me again.”
“Yes. But you like it when I hurt you.”
“You’re not supposed to know that.”
“Is it not obvious?”
I grit my teeth, trying to summon some rage. There’s only exhaustion. “You’re going to win. And I hate it.”
“There is no losing. Not between us.”
