Page 8 of Fierce Secrets

I managed a weak smile, noting how he watched me take the first bite of food. His split knuckles flexed as he ate his own mouthful. They'd not been like that earlier.

Was he frustrated at me? Or on my behalf? Had he hit a wall?

My stomach knotted.

Had he hit someone?

CHAPTER 3

LEO

Istood in the doorway of my bedroom, whiskey glass in hand as I watched Meredith sleep. She'd curled into herself, looking small and fragile in my oversized clothes, her dark hair spilling across my pillow. Dinner had been a quiet affair, the silence heavy with her pain and confusion. I hadn't known how to fill it, how to ease the hurt of betrayal. It was not something I was good at.

So we'd eaten in silence, sharing the ice-cream as I'd put on a show for us to watch. We'd sat at opposite ends of the couch for one episode before she'd said she wanted to sleep, and had tried to argue about sleeping on the couch again.

As if I'd ever let her. Thankfully, she'd not been too strong-headed tonight, and had accepted that she would be going to my bedroom while I took the couch.

She was my best friend's sister. Off limits. Sacred. And yet seeing her broken had awakened something dark inside me, something I'd buried years ago. The same rage I'd felt that night when Grayson and I had taken matters into our own hands.

Even as a teenager, she'd had a way of softening my edges. While everyone else saw the future mob boss, the dangerous heir to the Donati empire, Meredith had just seen Leo. She'd bringme cookies when I'd visit, tell me my new tattoos were beautiful instead of frightening, smile at me like I wasn't becoming the monster everyone whispered about.

The turning point had been that day in the Cassaro's backyard. Grayson and I had been roughhousing like the idiots we were, and I'd sliced my palm open on a broken vase. Before I could even process the injury, fourteen-year-old Meredith had come running out, her face full of concern.

"Le-Le," she'd said, using that ridiculous nickname only she could get away with. "You're such a dummy, the pair of you are." Her small hands had been so gentle as she'd cleaned and bandaged the cut. "I need you around, just as much as Gray does."

That moment had sealed my fate. She was too good, too pure for our world. For my world. The mix of protectiveness and something darker had taken root that day, something I'd spent years trying to ignore.

Then things had changed, one night changed everything between all of us. I knew she didn't remember it, apparently she’d blocked the trauma out.

Good. She didn't need to remember the hell that had been her life. But after her late teens, things had changed between us, like she sensed who I was, a part of her remembering that fateful night in a way.

I knew she was afraid of me. Everyone was. Everyone save Gray, my best friend.

I was fine with that. She was too sweet anyway.

I took another sip of whiskey, the amber liquid burning less than my memories. The family business was brutal – murder, extortion, violence wrapped in legitimate enterprises. No place for someone like Meredith, who saw good in everyone, who brought light into dark places without even trying. Who'dsomehow remained out of the dark world I called home, one her own father had stepped into.

I'd been part of their family since my father and Anthony Cassaro, their father, had struck their first deal. Grayson and I had been inseparable since childhood, bound by more than friendship. When he'd confided in me about their father's drinking, his rages, he'd begged me to keep it from my family. "They'll kill him," Grayson had said, not knowing how prophetic those words would become.

It hadn't been that bad, not at first. Verbal outbursts, broken objects. Until that night... the night we learned just how dark things were.

I turned away from the doorway, unable to watch her peaceful form any longer. In the kitchen, I refilled my glass, examining my split knuckles under the harsh light. Logan's face had felt good under my fists, too good. I'd lost control, something I rarely did anymore. But hearing Meredith's pain, seeing her tears – I'd seen red.

I flexed my hand, watching the cuts pull. Once again, I'd acted on impulse when it came to Meredith Cassaro. Once again, I'd let my careful control slip to protect her. Some things never changed.

She had no idea how much she affected me. How badly I'd wanted to put Logan into the ground when he'd tried to stop her from leaving. The only thing that had stopped me was recalling how she'd looked at me the last time I'd protected her.

I never wanted her to look at me like that again.

Like I was a monster.

The ice clinked in my glass as I moved to the window, staring out at my city. Tomorrow, I'd have to maintain my distance, remember why I'd kept my feelings buried all these years.

But tonight, I'd stand guard, making sure no more harm came to the woman who'd somehow wedged herself into the darkest parts of my soul.

A soft whimper from the bedroom caught my attention. I set my glass down, moving silently back to the doorway. Meredith was restless now, her face twisted in what looked like a nightmare. Another whimper escaped her, and my hands clenched at my sides.

Even in sleep, that bastard was hurting her.

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