Page 117 of Diavolo

"I will teach you," Alessandro offered swiftly.

"Thank you."

"Of course."

"I don't want to be a liability."

Ever.

To her husband.

Or their clan.

He laughed and kissed her. "Do not worry. You are an asset in every way."

She offered a small smile. "Let's hope."

After their talk just now, Elyse felt as though a deeper level of understanding had been established between them. Their hearts and minds seemed to be aligned. Elyse was ready to go to war for Alessandro now that she felt more certain in their ability to survive this marriage. Elyse wished to believe in the goodness of her husband. Not the worst in him. Elyse was finally ready toadmit to herself that she loved Alessandro. But she wasn't going to be stupid about it.

My allegiance always lies first with the cosca. Not a woman.

Because the mafia was still the mafia. Elyse was determined not to end up like Carmen or Cara. She intended to accumulate her own power. Slowly but surely. If ever Alessandro was forced to choose between wife orcosca, in all honesty, Elyse wasn't confident that he'd pick her. To avoid this heartbreaking fate, she intended to move on the chessboard in such a way that Alessandro would never be have to sacrifice her to win the game.

The next morning, Alessandro commanded Nils to drive them to an outdoor shooting range in the outskirts of Palermo. Backed by mountains lining the shore and not much else, the vastness felt like a breath of fresh air compared to the claustrophobic hum of the city center.

Yet, Elyse wasn't at ease. The Glock felt foreign in her hands. It was in direct contrast to the surgical instruments and medical machinery she'd used for years. Noble causes were no longer her life's purpose. She'd set down her scalpel and picked up a fucking gun. Her hold tightened around the grip.Dios, how the mighty had fallen.These small yet pivotal moments kept catching her off guard. Elyse missed the self-righteous simplicity of being Dr. Romero. Before, the question that kept her up at night was—how many lives had she failed to save?Now, she was haunted by an entirely different demon—how many lives would she be willing destroy to save her own?

Alessandro stood behind her. "Hold the gun in your dominant hand."

Elyse wrapped her right hand around the handle of the pistol.

"Use your other hand as support."

She placed the cradle of her left palm on the exposed portion of her grip. Her husband reached over Elyse's shoulder to readjust her grip. It felt unnatural and even more uncomfortable. He instructed, "Stand with your knees slightly bent. Feet planted shoulder-width apart. Square your shoulders and lean forward."

Elyse shuffled into position. Her head swiveled around to face her husband. Uncertainty glimmered from her eyes. "Like this?"

Alessandro placed his hands on her hips to shift her stance. "This is better."

"Got it."

"Extend your arms out."

She faced forward again and aimed at her target, which was a large black circle printed on canvas paper with scoring rings located about six feet away. "Okay."

Alessandro moved behind Elyse, pressing his chest against her back, as he guided her aim slightly to the left. "Pull the trigger when you are ready."

For a flickering moment, Cara's face flew before Elyse's eyes. She was suddenly transported to the night of Mariposa's party.The night she almost died. Elyse blinked away the memory. She squeezed one eye shut to check her aim before firing off a round of ammunition. Only two of her shots managed to graze the outer rings of the black circle. Elyse released a disgruntled noise. She didn't like to fail. Alessandro smiled as though he'd read her thoughts. "This is only your first time. You will improve with practice."

They stayed a while longer at the shooting range. By the time they left, Elyse could hit some part of the black circle on a fairly consistent basis at about ten feet away.

"You are a quick study," Alessandro praised.

"I had a good teacher," she replied sweetly.

He chuckled and kissed her. "My wife is a natural. In time, the gun will feel like an extension of you."

Elyse was surprised that she understood exactly what he was talking about. Whenever she'd entered the operating room, her clamps and forceps were, indeed, as familiar to her as her own hands and fingers.

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