Page 42 of Deadly Obsession

“Cancer.”

Elias clears his throat, but he doesn’t expand on his father’s illness.

Which reminds me of what Noah had said when I went to Del’s safe house.

“Noah told me about your mother.”

His head jerks up at my words. His jaw tightens.

“She did, did she?”

I purse my lips. I shouldn’t have said anything. This is his story to tell, and I can understand him being angry that someone else shared it with me.

But I can’t take it back. Now I can only offer him my sympathy.

“I’m sorry you were the one—” my voice cracks.

Fuck, I’m tearing up. He’s barely told me anything, and I’m already so heartbroken. Why does this man make me so… passionate abouteverything?

“I’m sorry, Elias,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

His anger softens slightly, and we sit in silence for a few minutes before he starts speaking again.

“It was my fault.”

“What? But I thought—”

“Lance was the one who was forced to slit her throat, but I should have been there to protect them.” He ends the sentence on a growl, voice raised.

“Explain it to me,” I say. I understand why he thinks he should blame himself, but I need to hear him say it out loud. Does he have anyone to talk about this with? A therapist? His brother? It doesn’t matter. Right now, he has me. “You were just a kid. It shouldn’t have been your responsibility to protect them.”

His jaw is clenched so tightly, I’m surprised I can’t hear his teeth grinding.

“Start at the beginning. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

That’s not entirely true. Chase has been blowing up my phone with calls, likely because I took the wire off and shoved it into my purse earlier when I went to the bathroom after first arriving at the penthouse. I couldn’t risk answering, so I sent him a text saying that I couldn’t talk, and I’d give him the rundown tomorrow. I could lie and say I was stuck at Lenetti’s, but I don’t want to risk it. If he has spies... if he saw me leave with Elias... he might punish me for lying by harming my parents.

I wait for Elias to continue talking, and I almost think he’s going to refuse when he forces an agitated stream of air through his nose.

“My father had always been on the wrong side of the law. When I was learning the business, he’d tell me stories about how he’d steal cars as a teenager and deal drugs to people far too young to be ingesting that shit. By the time he was in his twenties, he had a following. A crew. Men who’d help him with elaborate schemes, usually dealing with illegal drugs but nothing was off limits. He had chop shops, money laundering operations, and whatever else he could make money from.

“He dealt dirty. A lot of deaths resulted from the drugs he ran. A lot of people were murdered for speaking a single wrong thing in front of him.”

Elias picks up his empty glass and swirls the melting ice, staring numbly as it clanks around.

“He met my mother when she was fifteen and he was twenty-five. She wasgivento him to clear a debt. Fucked up shit, but my mother didn’t fight it. She always told us that it was a sacrifice she had to make to protect her family, mostly her younger brother and sister.

“Anyway, Mom said Dad didn’t touch her until she was eighteen when they got married. How honorable of him, right? Nine months after their wedding day, I was born. I was her saving grace because Percy—that was my father’s name—abused her physically and mentally, but that stopped when I arrived. She stayed busy raising me, and my father left her alone to do so.”

I reach out for Elias’s hand. He hesitates for only a second before taking it.

“But then he started beating me when I was six. I remember getting backhanded for talking back to him. Then again for acting out at school. Anything, really. My mother was my escape from my father and his harsh punishments. She loved me and did everything she could to protect me. But she wasn’t safe from him either. He may have stopped harming her while she was pregnant with me and for the first five or so years of my life, but if he couldn’t get to me, he’d get to her. When Lance was born, it got worse. I was the big brother. The role model. The one who had to lead by example. Especially once we both got older.

“When I turned thirteen, my father stopped letting me hang out with my friends or do anything fun in general. Ihad to sneak around a lot, but he had eyes everywhere. He caught me a few times, and I paid for it.

“Then I got smart and convinced my father to let me go to parties, clubs, and concerts where I could recruit QBM soldiers. My father liked to sign them up young so he could manipulate them into doing his bidding. He would teach them to love violence and enjoy killing.”

Elias shakes his head; his eyes darken as he relives these memories. The pain in his face almost has me begging him to stop. I should tell him I no longer want to hear about how he became a mafia boss.