Cold Brew and Bullets (Part 1 of the Syndicate Series)

Chapter 24- The Truth

Eliana:

I hadn't thought about this in depth for years, I had been shoving it down for far too long. Each of these men had probably seen and dealt with worse, but the story that I was about to my own, and the intensity of their lives and their opinions didn't invalidate my own feeling about my past. The room slowly began to empty out, each of the mob leaders nodding to their second and enforcers, giving them permission to leave their bosses. I adamantly didn't look at them as they filed past me, I just grit my teeth and mentally prepared to recount something I had sworn never to think about, much less divulge to strangers.

Leondardo was about to leave when he gave me a questioning look, silently asking me if I wanted him to stay or not. I gave him the best grin that I could muster, and shook my head at Angelo and Lucia, letting them know that it was alright with me if they stayed. None of them were my best friends, and none of them made me feel quite as safe or comfortable as Alessio or Ezrah might, but they made me feel better than if they weren't there at all.

Once the door was tightly shut behind everyone else, I took in the room. It was slightly less intimidating, but I still didn't like it. I sighed and ran my hand through my hair, wishing that there was another way to protect Alessio from the doubt that would arise because of their scrutiny of me.

Alessio had been kind to me, and never pressed me for more information than I wanted to divulge, but he couldn't look like he was protecting me or prioritizing me above the job. I'm sure that if he had really wanted information about me, he would have found the resources to do it. The fact that he hadn't hinted at anything in my history told me that he didn't pry more than surface level, which I was happy about. Knowing that he respected my boundaries meant a lot, in part because I knew that he wasn't used to showing much restraint in his line of work.

Everyone but Allegra had taken a seat, and I tried my best to look like I wasn't glaring at them, "If you require an explanation, then you'll have it."

"It would be nice," Elias shrugged nonchalantly, as though his previous challenges hadn't been threats in their own ways. "I'm growing more curious by the minute about how someone with such a seemingly nonexistent history has so quickly adapted to living in this type of situation."

None of the other mafia leaders around the tables glared at me with the same cynicism, but they weren't jumping in at my defense either. I knew that I at least still sported a scowl as I adamantly avoided all of their gazes. "I've been in some bad living situations before, I've been faced with some unfortunate circumstances. The one thing that it's all taught me is that if you're lucky enough to be in a place that's safe, where there's no threat of beating or starvation or rape, then you can count your lucky stars and roll with it. I'm not foreign to violence, and I'm not bothered by it. I'm sorry if you think that I should be."

No one said a word, and I knew they were waiting for me to deliver on my promise. They wanted my story. "I should preface this with a disclaimer. Most foster parents are great, and loving, and caring..... But there are a few that aren't. The earliest ones that I remember were great. Well, there was one woman who seemed a little crazy when I look back on it. She had this idea in her head that if she pushed us hard enough, each of us would be a child prodigy. Endless music lessons, brutal ballet training, she'd slam the lid of the piano on me if I didn't-" I wrung my hands together and shook my head, trying to ignore the couple of scars on my fingers from when I refused to practice. "I digress. Anyways, a little bit before my sixteenth birthday, I was sent to a new home."

I tried not to look at Elias. Part of my gut told me that he wasn't doing this to be vindictive, he was genuinely concerned about the safety of his family, and I couldn't be completely mad about it. I still didn't like it, though. "The previous family was about to permanently adopt this set of twins living there, and they didn't want a third anymore clouding up their space, so I got shipped out again. The new home was.... Odd. The mom couldn't be more than 25, he was at least in his 40s, and their communication was off, but he was a politician, an old fashioned conservative man. I chalked it up to cultural differences, I liked it there so I figured it couldn't be that bad.