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"You didn't?" Weston frowns.

"I was given a piece of rope to defend myself, considering I was much younger than my opponents." I glance around the room, "It was their way of giving me a slight advantage… Or so they said."

"The bastards," Sinner growls.

There’s silence, then Edward exhales, "So you used the rope to defeat them?" All emotion is schooled from his face. That’s the thing with him... Except for the few moments when he lets the mask slip, you can never tell what is going on in that razor sharp mind of his. And the Father has an astute mind… I remember enough of him as a boy to recollect how highly perceptive he’d been. He has a head for numbers and had displayed an early sense of business acumen, which is why all of us had been shocked by his decision to join the seminary. Guess the Lord really does work in mysterious ways… Or he’d simply ordained that the incident turn our lives upside down so we’d each have to reinvent ourselves. Me turning to the Bratva and him becoming a man of God.

"Yes." I take in Edward’s stoic features then turn my attention to each of the others in the room. "Turns out, I’m good with my hands." I raise my palms and stare at them. "I didn’t have a choice; I had to figure out how to use the single piece of rope to defend myself."

"And you did?"

"Yeah," I crack my neck. "I quickly learned how to tie it around the neck of my opponent and threaten to choke him, until he let me go."

"So, your reputation preceded you?" Damian exhales. "Didn’t realize when we nicknamed you Killer, we were only confirming the role you’d already played in the ring."

"Except I didn’t kill anyone."

"You didn't?" Edward frowns.

"Nope." I shake my head. "If I spared their lives, they owed me."

"And that’s how you built your circle of influence in the underground?" Saint interjects.

I nod, "It's also how I struck up a friendship with Nikolai, the scion of the Bratva."

"Nikolai?" Sinner scowls. "The asshole who first told us that the Mafia were behind our kidnapping?"

"You kept in touch with him?" Edward's jaw hardens.

I draw in a breath, "If you recall, in exchange for the lead, Niko had wanted Damian to face his guy in an underground fight club." I refer back to how the Seven of us had met Nikolai.

"Only, Baron took Damian's place, and lost the fight," Saint says slowly.

"Then you stepped in and defeated the man the Bratva fielded that day," Sinclair recalls.

Saint tilts his head, "That was what, ten years ago?"

"Almost thirteen." I rub the back of my neck. "That day, Niko and I struck up a friendship. We've kept in touch since."

"And you didn’t think to tell any of us?" Sinner growls.

I widen my stance. "It didn’t seem like a big deal. We simply hung out, kept in touch. Over a period of time, I grew to trust the man. Enough that when he called me with a proposition, I agreed."

"A proposition?"

"What the hell did you agree to?"

"Niko’s sister—" I blow out a breath, "She had taken over the family business, the legitimate arm of it. Tensions were escalating between the Bratva and their rival gang. They wanted me to marry her and get her out of LA to keep her safe."

"Hold on." Sinner straightens, "LA? Niko's sister? You aren't talking about Karina, are you?"

I nod, "I agreed to the lure her to London, but I stopped short of committing to marrying her. I told them I’d give it some thought. Getting her out of LA was the priority."

"So you made sure that we offered her the gig to take on the security for us Seven?" Edward interjects.

Of course, the Father is the first to put it all together. The man is so intuitive sometimes it’s scary.

"Hang on. Something doesn’t make sense. You were keeping an eye on her," Saint drums his fingers on his chest, "while she was the one we charged with gathering intelligence on the men who kidnapped us?"