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REYNA

I ended my playing with a sigh

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I ended my playing with a sigh. The violin was the perfect release for all my pent up frustrations. As I looked at the instrument, grateful for the gift, guilt settled in. I knew how he reacted every time I mentioned Giovanni's name, yet when he gifted me something so precious and meaningful, I threw it in his face. Even though my intentions were pure, I could see the ugliness of my behavior.

After carefully placing the violin and bow back into the case, I stood up. Something in my gut told me to go to him. I needed to apologize. I needed to make sure he knew just how appreciative I was. Even if he wouldn't do the same for me, my heart would never allow me to sleep okay knowing that I could have possibly hurt someone's feelings.

I walked out of my room and into the empty hallway. My footsteps were almost soundless thanks to my slippers.

As I made my way to his room, I could almost feel sadness reaching out and grabbing onto me.

Pushing open the door, I walked in and took in the sight of a disheveled saint. His shirt was off, his pants were undone, his hair was a mess, and he was holding onto a bottle. I hadn't seen him drink in a week. And unlike any other bottle I had ever seen in his hands, this bottle was full.

Reluctantly, I took small steps toward him until I was directly in front of him. I cautiously reached for the bottle before grasping it and taking it away from him. He didn't protest as I sat the bottle over on the desk and just watched him.

A tear fell from his eye.

I never thought I would be there to witness Santino Venturi at his strongest point-open and see-through like a glass door. Now, I truly believed it. He trusted me.

Scaring me, he grabbed ahold of my wrist. I stared down at his hold on me before looking into his broken eyes. Some invisible force pushed me to him. It pushed me to curl my arms around his neck and hold him. He quickly let go of my wrist to wrap around my waist as he pulled me closer.

"It's okay," I whispered, running my fingers through his hair. It's okay to feel, Saint.

I was hoping he could feel every bit of comfort and security that I could feel in his arms. I wanted him to know that I would be there for him as long as he treated me right.

The night sky was shining through the bedroom window. I could hear the chips of crickets just outside. The room was dark, and the only reason I could see Saint was because of the moonlight that danced on his skin.

"I didn't kill them," he whispered.

I froze. "What?"

"My father and Adriano's father were both great friends. It was how I met Adriano. They were drinking buddies, gambling buddies, and even worked for a man by the name of Viktor," he began.

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