Page 177 of Ruins
Then Angelo breaks it.
“I have to know—were you really trained to be a made man’s wife?” His voice is even, but there’s a layer of something beneath it.
I shift uncomfortably. “Not trained... just never really had a choice. I was always told I’d marry a powerful man. It wasn’t necessarily limited to the syndicate, but it was a high probability.”
“Did you have to learn anything?”
I exhale, mentally sifting through the years of conditioning Maksim forced upon me. “CPR. First aid—glass wounds, knife wounds, bullet holes. Accounting, spreadsheets. Etiquette classes for formal events. Oh, and how to withstand verbal interrogations.” I give Angelo a pointed look. “Guess that one came in handy.”
He laughs. “Who made you take these classes?”
“Maksim.”
Something unreadable flickers across Angelo’s face. “He was grooming you to be the wife of someone like him.” His voice holds no judgment, just understanding. Then his expression darkens slightly. “Although, not teaching you how to use a gun, let alone defend yourself was an idiot move.”
“I don’t think he ever thought I’d be alone or need to use a gun,” I admit quietly.
Angelo’s lips press into a firm line. “I understand. We never taught our sister either.”
I blink, caught off guard. “HowisElena?”
“Stubborn as ever,” he says with a smirk. “She won’t leave until she finishes finals.”
“I get it,” I nod. “I had to defer my studies for this... arrangement.”
Angelo glances at me. “You go to school?”
I lift my chin slightly. “I do.”
“And Santo is okay with you being on campus where other men can see you in that bra you call a shirt?”
Heat rises in my cheeks. “Not exactly,” I admit. “But he agreed to online classes. Hopefully, that’ll be enough for the school. I really don’t want to drop out.”
Angelo’s voice is smooth, certain. “You won’t have to. They’ll accept your terms.”
I narrow my eyes. “You seem pretty sure.”
He smirks. “Let’s just say I’m owed a favor almost everywhere. I’ll cash them in if needed.”
Something about the way he says it makes me believe him.
We pull into a dimly lit parking garage, the soft glow of LED lights reflecting off sleek cars. Angelo maneuvers the SUV into a reserved space near a reflective elevator. The moment we stop, my eyes catch on a figure standing by the doors.
Nico.
Excitement rushes through me, and before I can think, I’m out of the car, crossing the space between us in a heartbeat.
“Nico!”
I throw my arms around him, holding tight, feeling a sudden wave of relief at being in his presence again.
He pats my back, stiff at first, before finally allowing the hug. When I step back, his eyes flick past me toward Angelo, his expression sharpening.
“You broughtSanto’swife here?” His tone is laced with disapproval.
Angelo’s jaw tightens as he steps forward. His voice is smooth, but there’s an unmistakable edge to it. “Yes, Nico. She’s spending the night.”
Nico’s gaze flickers between us before he exhales sharply, pressing the elevator button.
