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"I don't know."

"Since when does the Devil fear something as small as this?" I tease.

"This," he growls, hugging me fiercely, "isn't small."

"Exactly. And it's too strong to be wrecked by a name on some paper."

He's gone quiet again. "Not the paper," he says flatly, "but what I'll do with it. I'm not afraid to kill, Leona. I've lived so long waiting for the chance to get my revenge. Can you live with me when you see the monster lurking in my soul?"

"I've seen it already," I reply. His grip loosens on the paper. I never thought I'd be someone to tame a beast.He isn't tamed,I remind myself.That's why he's telling me all this."I'll love you no matter what, Marshall. I don't want you to regret not knowing who's responsible for what happened to your father, especially if it's because of me. You won't lose me. Not over this, not over anything."

Marshall embraces me hard, his muscles trembling like he's exhausted. "Okay," he says. "I believe you. Here we go." I watch, fascinated, as he carefully opens the envelope. The paper inside is the size of a note card, thin as tissue paper. Marshall handles it like it's a grenade.

Together in his warm bed, he reveals the writing inside. The letters are scrawled in elegant, curving black ink. It's wrong to write a killer's name with such reverence.

The paper starts to quiver in his grip. "Marshall, calm down," I say nervously. "Marshall?"

"No," he snarls. "Impossible. No!"

The man I love is twitching so hard a tear begins to rip the paper. His fury is barely contained, and I wonder, if I wasn't here, how much worse his reaction would be.

I understand, though, because I've read the name.

"Why would he do this? Why lie to me, right to my face, telling me it was a drug deal when it washimall along?"

Crumpling the paper into his fist, Marshall swings outward, punching the wall beside the bed. A picture falls to the floor, glass shattering. "What are you going to do?" I ask. But I know the answer.

He opens his hand, the note dropping to the floor as a ruined clump. "He murdered my father and pretended it was an accident. He welcomed me into the family and praised me for my talents. It was all a sick game, Leona. All of it. I don't care if he's the damn Underboss himself. When I'm done, Benson Lucardo will know what it means to cross the Devil."

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