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CHAPTER1
Elena Legan
FOUR YEARS AGO
Growing up, there were two events that shaped me into who I’ve become. When I was thirteen years old, I watched my father shoot a bullet inside someone’s mouth. And when I was fifteen, I watched my older brother beat someone to within an inch of his life.
I don’t know the man my father killed. His only relevance to my life is that witnessing his death signaled the end of my innocence. It was the moment my eyes opened and I realized what kind of family I belonged to. I learned a lot of lessons that night. The biggest one was finding out the extent to which my family would go to protect me from the cold, hard truth. I was their little girl, after all. My father went ballistic when he saw me hiding in the corner of the room he’d just killed someone in. I remember being in shock. I remember him talking to me, trying to explain. The next day, he bought me so many presents. Bribes. They got the intended effect. I’ve never mentioned that night once since it happened. And I’ve tried hard to forget it ever did.
The second event was a lot tougher to get over. Mostly because the person in question was my first boyfriend, Aiden Cross. He was two years older than me, but that didn’t stop me from falling in love with him. Or at least that was what my fifteen-year-old brain thought I was feeling. He didn’t know who I was. I went to a rich, private school where all the students were the children of politicians, celebrities, businessmen and women. The elite of New York all sent their kids there. A Legan fit right in. Mostly because no one knew much about my family. I was able to blend in, to act like I came from a normal family.
Then I met Aiden. He was handsome, rich, and charismatic. I thought he was everything I wanted. I was swept up in my fantasy high-school romance. We were fine, until we had an argument one day and he ended up slapping me across the face. On some level, I could understand that it was an accident, something that happened in the heat of the moment. He tried to apologize, but I broke up with him immediately.
I made a mistake, though, and told my brother what happened. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice. Going back home with a busted lip kind of gave it away. My brother showed up the next day with two of his friends. I tried to explain to them that it wasn’t necessary but none of them were ready to listen. They managed to corner Aiden. One of the jackasses held me back as I watched my big brother beat him up. Honestly, Aiden got lucky. My dad wasn’t aware of the incident—if he had been, Aiden would have been dead. It was hard to watch, though. That was the first time I was exposed to Tony’s darkness.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother. He’s my favorite person in the entire world. But he’s also the king of raining on my parade. And for the past eighteen years, I’ve had to deal with it. Until now.
A giggle escapes me as I sway dangerously on the countertop. If I fall, it’s likely I’ll get a concussion or at least a painful bump in my head. But my whiskey-addled mind isn’t at liberty to care about such risks right now.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I look down, and staring up at me are cold, dark blue eyes. For some reason, another giggle escapes me.
“Hey, Jackass Number One,” I greet.
His brows furrow. He takes in the empty glass and bottle on the countertop, before his gaze returns to me. “Really, Elena? Of all the places to get drunk.”
I wrinkle my nose. “It’s a bar with lots of free booze. Where else would I get drunk?”
“Not in my family’s home,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re underage.”
A snort escapes me. “Dude, you’ve been drinking since you were, like, thirteen.”
“We are not the same.”
At that, a cloud of sadness falls over me. We’re really not. So different, so very fucking different.
“I know. But I got exciting news today,” I say sadly.
He stares at me then, his blue eyes inquisitive. Sometimes, it feels like he’s looking into my mind. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could. Roman De Luca has always felt otherworldly, scary. He huffs out a breath before stepping forward.
"Come on, let’s get you down.”
I slap his hand away from my leg and he glares. “Don’t touch me, I don’t want to break out in hives.”
“Real mature,lupacchiotta.”
I roll my eyes at the nickname. He has been calling me that since I dressed up as a wolf for Halloween when I was little. It would be cute, if I didn’t know he was mocking me every time he said it. Very slowly, I lower myself until I’m seated atop the countertop.
Roman is still standing there. We’re eye level now since he’s a six-foot-three giant. I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what the exciting news is?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” he states dryly.
He moves to grab a bottle from the enormous bar, pouring some whiskey into a shot glass before throwing it back.
“Your hypocrisy disgusts me,” I mutter.
