Page 12 of Vito

I anticipate her movement, but not fast enough. I grab for her wrist and the back of her neck but only catch her wrist.

She spins around. Her hazel eyes flare. She has a sharp, angled jawline and full lips. Her brunette hair has the loosest of waves.

"Lost, little girl?" I ask in a low, menacing voice.

Her eyes flare hotter at my tone and words, and that full mouth presses into a hard line. From here, I can hear Aiken's service and it's starting to wrap up.

"This graveyard section is closed for a private funeral; how did you get in?" I demand, speaking in a more regular tone.

Her eyes fly to mine, and she looks startled.

I'm gripping her wrist tightly, my big hand is completely wrapped around it. She steps closer, drives her elbow toward me, and yanks her wrist free from my ironclad grip. I have to admit, I'm taken aback and impressed.

My body is buzzing, and my cock is stirring just looking at her. She's sinfully gorgeous; plus, my kryptonite is a woman knowing how to defend herself instead of being a damsel in distress.

She steps back from me. "I know it's a private service, asshole." Her voice is low and quiet but filled with anger. "The guards let me in."

I narrow my eyes at her.

She swallows, and the movement of her throat's long, graceful column pulls my eyes to it, making me fight the urge to sink my teeth into the delicate, smooth flesh. "I'm here for Aiken's funeral."

I pull my eyes away from her throat and focus on her anger-filled hazel orbs. "Yet you stand at the grave of another."

"If you pulled your head out of your ass," she's still speaking in the hushed voice, "you'd realize that you can hear his service from here. I was paying respects to two people at the same time."

I glance down, now seeing the name on the headstone. "Who is Fenton Fallen?" I frown. Same last name as Aiken… A possible relation? Sister?

"None of your goddamn business," she hisses.

The funeral has ended, and people are starting to disperse.

"Vito," my father calls. "Come pay your respects."

He's standing beside Aiken's parents, who turn toward me.

I notice two things simultaneously. The woman turns so her back is to the crowd, and Aiken's mother gasps.

The woman beside me starts to walk away. I grab her arm, this time with a firmer grip she won't be able to break.

"Eden?" Aiken's mother's voice trembles.

The woman whose arm I hold swears under her breath and glares up at me. Her look is 'you're a fucking cunt, and I'd love to shove a tree branch through your throat' look. Or maybe it's just me reading into the look, with my everyday violent, bloody thoughts.

Both Aiden's parents rush toward where we stand. I watch as the woman beside me transforms from fiery anger to flat coolness, hiding any emotions.

"Eden? Is that really you?" Mrs. Fallen's voice trembles, and Mr. Fallen looks shocked.

My father and Massimo are trying to discern what's going on and my role.

As the Fallens approach, the woman—Eden—remains emotionless; however, her body turns even more rigid. When they stop a few feet from us, as if not daring to come closer, Aiken's parents clutch each other's hands.

"Eden," Mrs. Fallen sobs in disbelief. "All these years… Where have you been?"

"Not here," Eden says coldly, then jerks her chin at them. "Edna. Peter. Your presence at Aiken's funeral is a bit much, don't you think?"

I'm a cold motherfucker, but that statement—the words and frigidness they're delivered with—is a slap of shock to me.

"Aiken disowned you years ago, no?" Eden raises her chin as the Fallens suck in sharp breaths at her cold detachedness. "You lost all your children back then, but I guess this makes it official."

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