When She Loves (The Fallen, #4)

My sisters and I don’t have those kinds of conversations though. In fact, we barely talk. They don’t like me very much. And I don’t know them very well. We’re family, but we aren’t friends. I’d die for them, but I’d never go to them for help.

I place my glass on the side table. “You said you want to talk. So talk.”

Elena clenches her fists in her lap. “We heard what happened to Cleo and her father. We heard Nero is gone.”

“Correct.”

Fabi swallows “When you say gone, you mean…”

“Gone gone.”

A stunned silence permeates through the room. My sisters have known Nero for most of their lives, but they weren’t close with him either. And yet Fabi starts crying. Elena swears and turns to comfort her. I watch them embrace, Fabi tucking her face against Elena’s shoulder.

Must be nice to have someone hold you when you’re upset.

I stand up. I don’t know what to do with myself. Every movement feels wrong, like I’m an actor on stage but I’ve lost the script.

“I’ll get you some water,” I mutter.

Elena shoots me a glare over her shoulder. “She doesn’t need water. Sit down.”

It’s like she wants me to witness this. Why? “I don’t understand. You weren’t friends with Nero.”

“Damn it, Rafe. So what? We still cared for him. And Fabi’s not just crying over Nero. She’s crying over you. He was your best friend, wasn’t he? Is it true that you gave the order to kill him?”

“Yes.” The next part comes easily. It’s rehearsed and memorized. “I had to. It was the only way to avoid war with the Ferraros.”

Fabi pulls away from Elena and sniffles. “It’s so horrible. How are you feeling? Are you all right?”

How do I explain the mix of anger, sadness, and regret inside of me? I don’t know how to put it into words.

“Of course, he’s all right,” Elena snaps. “He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. One day, he nearly loses his wife. The next day, he kills his consigliere. Tomorrow, he’ll execute some poor bastard for looking at him wrong. It’s all the same to him, Fabi. He’s just like our dad was. Empty.”

“Stop it,” Fabi begs. “You’re being cruel.”

“Cruel?” Elena demands. “I’m not the cruel one here. I’m stating facts. Aren’t I, Rafe?”

I meet Fabi’s teary gaze, and it touches me somewhere deep. A place I’ve tried to ignore so fiercely and for so long, but I don’t think I can ignore it anymore.

Sinking back down on the sofa, I hang my head. I’ve never felt more alone.

“Cleo is gone,” I rasp. “I told her I want a divorce.” It’s hard to speak when my throat is this tight.

“Why?” Elena demands.

I force myself to look up at my sisters. Whatever Elena sees in my expression makes her sneer waver. Her eyes widen. They’re the exact same shade of blue as mine.

“Because I can’t handle having her around. She made me into someone I was never meant to be. She made me weak.”

Elena’s brows furrow. “How did she make you weak?”

“She made me feel things. I’m not fucking good at feeling things. I was trained not to.”

“Trained? By who?” Fabi asks, her voice small.

How could they be this clueless? “Do you think I was born like this?” I ask. “Who do you think?”

A storm is brewing inside Elena’s eyes. “If you’re asking for pity, you won’t get it from me. I saw you there that night.”

My head is starting to pound. “What night?”

“The night our father beat our mother,” Elena hisses, fury flashing across her features. “It was a few days before Christmas. The last one we spent at the house before we moved to the Hamptons. You were in their bedroom, and he was hurting her, and you just stood there and watched.”

What the fuck. She’s known all along?

Elena leans forward. “From where I was, I could see your expression. I could see that you felt nothing. Your face was blank. It’s haunted me ever since. How could you just fucking stand there, Rafe? Our own mother? Did you enjoy seeing it?”

I recoil, stunned. She thinks she knows, but it’s clear she doesn’t understand what actually happened that night.

So this is why she hates me. By the way Fabi’s looking at me, I can tell this isn’t news to her. Elena told her.

Whatever grip I had on myself falls apart piece by piece. The weight of the secret I’ve been carrying all these years is suddenly impossible to bear.

I promised myself I’d never tell them the truth. That I’d protect them from the horrors of our father’s depravity. But I can’t keep this from them anymore. I need to make them understand that I wasn’t born a monster.

I was made into one.

“You’ve got it wrong,” I whisper.

Elena cocks her head. “Did I? Explain it then, Rafe.”

I wrap both palms around my glass, my pulse loud inside my ears. “Our father forced me to watch. That time wasn’t the first time either. The first time it happened, I was far from calm. I tried to stop him, Elena. I cried and screamed and fought him until he punched me so hard I blacked out.”

Fabi winces, listening to me intently. Elena is still glaring at me, her arms crossed over her chest, but a flicker of uncertainty appears inside her eyes.

“Father didn’t like that I was so upset about what he was doing to Mamma. I was only ten, but as his successor, I was supposed to be strong, even as a child. So he decided to teach me a lesson. He’d bring me into the room, and then he’d hurt her. If I cried or showed any emotions at all, he’d keep going. He would stop only when I managed to calm down. When I managed to pretend like I felt nothing.”

Elena’s expression goes slack.

“It took me a long time to be able to do what he wanted from me. Every time I’d start crying, unable to control myself, he’d grab Mamma by the throat and say, ‘You see? We can’t rely on anyone to save us but ourselves.’ He repeated that phrase to her often. I don’t know if it was to taunt her into fighting back, but she never did. Maybe she knew she didn’t stand a chance against him, and so she didn’t want to risk provoking him any further. But every time I heard it, it made me desperate to prove him wrong. I would gain control over my emotions. I would save Mamma. It took me months.”

“Months?” Fabi breathes. “How many times…”

“How many times did he do it? I don’t know. Every few days.” Too many. It took me too damn long. “The day I managed to keep my mask in place the entire time was the hardest day of my life. He only beat her for fifteen minutes before he stopped. He left her on the floor and walked over to me. He grabbed my chin and turned my face one way and then the other. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘You’ve learned.’ I was relieved. I thought that was the end of it and that I’d saved Mamma.”

My sisters stare at me in mute horror. They don’t realize the worst of the story is still coming.

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