Chapter 30: Salvatore
Chapter 30: Salvatore
The air was thick with heat and focus. The sound of punches hitting pads echoed across the yard like thunder cracking bone. Eden’s footwork wasn’t perfect yet—she still moved with hesitation, like she was second-guessing every instinct—but her hands? Her hands were learning to talk in a new language.
“Higher,” Elio barked, holding a padded arm up.
Eden adjusted, breathless but steady, and swung her elbow into the pad with a sharp crack.
“Good,” Gio called from the porch. “Again. And twist this time—like you’re breaking someone’s jaw.”
Eden reset her stance, sweat dripping from her temple, and did it again. This time, harder. This time, better.
She was catching on quick.
Her mouth was tight, her eyes sharp. Every movement radiated purpose, like she wasn’t just training—she was making a promise.
We’d started with hand-to-hand earlier in the week. Then disarmament. Now we were layering in her gun. Not for shooting—she already knew how to do that. Now she was learning how to wield it like a weapon before she ever pulled the trigger.
How to use the grip like a hammer.
The slide like a blade.
The weight like a threat.
She was a fast learner.
Too fast.
I watched her crack the butt of her gun against Elio’s pad and twist her hips into a follow-up punch. She didn’t flinch when her knuckles scraped. She didn’t blink when Elio grabbed her wrist and spun her around to show her how to break out of a grip.
She was hungry.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, that scared the hell out of me.
Before I could finish the thought, my phone rang.
Luca.
I turned away and answered. “What.”
“We’re being followed,” he said quickly. “Me and Fede. Black SUV, two cars back, tinted windows. They’ve been on us since the gas station.”
“You sure it’s not a coincidence?”
“They slowed down when we turned off the main road. Now they’re matching us.”
I glanced back at the yard. Eden had stopped to take a swig of water. Her shirt clung to her back, dark with sweat.
“Bring me whoever’s in that car,” I said coldly. “You have one hour.”
“And if we can’t?”
“Then don’t bother coming back.”
I hung up.
They made it with eight minutes to spare.
The man was dragged out of the SUV kicking and spitting, his wrists zip-tied behind his back, a bloody gash above his eye. We didn’t question him on the lawn. We took him straight to the basement.
It was cool down there—damp concrete walls, flickering overhead lights. Gio and Elio tied him to a steel chair bolted to the floor. I waited until they finished.
He was young. Cocky. The kind of man who didn’t understand pain until it lived in his bones.
Good.
I cracked my knuckles and walked into the room. “Name?”
He grinned, blood staining his teeth. “Fuck you.”
So I backhanded him hard enough to rattle the chair.
The smile cracked.
“Try again.”
He stayed quiet.
I didn’t.
Ten minutes in, I’d broken his nose and the fingers on his left hand. He was coughing blood. But he hadn’t said a word about Sergio. Or Eden. Or what the hell he thought he was doing tailing my men.
I grabbed the knife.
He tensed.
And that’s when I heard the door creak open behind me.
I turned.
She was standing in the doorway. Barefoot. Calm. Eyes unreadable.
Eden.
My heart jumped up into my throat.
She shouldn’t be here. Not for this. Not for me like this.
But she didn’t look away. Didn’t recoil.
She stepped inside. Closed the door behind her.
Her voice was quiet, steady. “Has he told you anything?”
I shook my head.
She looked at the man.
And walked forward.
Gio and Elio didn’t say a word. Just stepped back like they already knew what was coming.
Eden stopped in front of the chair and crouched to eye level with the man.
“Tell me what you know.”
He blinked, spit mixing with the blood on his chin.
Then he laughed.
“Yeah,” he rasped. “I know Sergio and Angelo are going to find you. And when they do, they’re going to take their time. They’re going to have their fun with you. The only thing I’m upset about is that I didn’t get a piece of you like I was promised.”
I moved.
Faster than I meant to. My fist shot forward, aiming for his mouth, but Eden stepped in front of me, hand on my chest.
“Stop,” she said, calm.
Her fingers were light.
She looked over her shoulder and smiled at the man.
“For a second,” she said softly, “I almost felt something like empathy for you. Because I don’t like hurting people. I thought maybe it wasn’t in me. I even felt guilty about wanting to watch you bleed.”
She tilted her head.
“But now?”
She picked up the knife from the table and held it up between them.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Then she carved an E into his chest.
Not fast. Not careless.
Deliberate. Deep.
He screamed. The kind of scream that makes your teeth hurt.
She didn’t blink.
“This,” she said, “is so when we dump your body on Sergio and Angelo’s doorstep, they know exactly who did it.”
She leaned in, voice quiet and close to his ear.
“So they don’t make the same mistake you did.”
The man started to shake.
He pissed himself.
Then he started talking.
“All of it. It’s all real. The girls, the trade deals, the tapes, the fucking network. Sergio and Angelo have been doing this for years. Grooming them. Passing them around. Dozens. More. Some of them are dead now. Some of them wish they were.”
Eden didn’t move.
He kept going. “You weren’t the only one. But you were the favorite. The clean one. The one who looked like heaven and never talked back. Sergio said you were made for him.”
He was crying now.
“He said your mom made the deal. She gave you to him. Said you were too hard for her to handle. Said you needed a man who could break you in properly.”
The knife slipped from Eden’s hand.
She didn’t speak.
Didn’t move.
Just stared.
At him.
At nothing.
Her body locked up, shoulders tight, jaw clenched.
Then she screamed.
Once.
Loud. Ragged. Full-bodied.
Then again.
And again.
She screamed until her throat gave out. Until her knees buckled. Until Gio stepped forward on instinct and caught her before she hit the floor.
But she never cried.
Not once.
Just screamed.
And I knew right then—
Whatever part of her still believed in forgiveness just died.