He didn't answer me. He didn't say anything. He just guided me out of the building with his hand safely planted at the small of my back.

Silence. That's all he could give me. No explanation. No reasoning.

Nothing.

But it gave me time to think. I couldn't keep doing this. Today had been too draining to repeat. But it was an eye opener. An eye opener into the life of Patrick Maestri.

The car had barely stopped when I opened the door and got out. I could hear Patrick calling my name but I was too determined to get inside. It was like if I could get inside, everything about today would disappear. But, he followed.

"Eliza, stop now!" he ordered.

"No, Patrick! I can't do this anymore," I cried, crawling at my hair to get the frustration out, "when I married you, I thought it was worth the sacrifice. Everyone said how brave I was, that the safety of my family and everything I loved was worth the sacrifice of marrying someone that I didn't know and didn't love."

"Don't talk like you're the only one that has made sacrifices," he snapped.

"And what are your sacrifices?" I asked, hopelessly, "You weren't able to find the perfect Queen to be the face of your empire?"

"I have been forced, to have loveless relationships since I was fifteen," he snarled through his teeth, making me frown, "the only reason you still have that light in your eyes is because for some reason, your father decided to shield you from this life."

"Don't, you, dare speak about my father in that tone? He deserves your respect," I growled, taking three steps towards him, pointing a deadly finger.

He chuckled, humouring me, "Of course, I'm the bad guy. Never mind the fact that he's exactly like me."

"No," I snapped, "he doesn't speak to me like I'm some piece of shit on the end of your boot!"

He just looked at me, his soulless eyes looking over my features, trying to figure out where he went wrong.

I shook my head, my heart just about to give up, "I can't do this anymore."

I went to turn but he snatched my arm, keeping me from running.

"No," he growled.

"No?"

"No. I won't let you."

I was stunned. What the hell?

"Why? Why all of a sudden you want me around when two hours ago you were treating me like dirt?" I yelled.

He stood back, letting go of me. He had never seem so uneasy.

"Do you have any idea what will happen if you walk away. Everything will fall apart. Everything that I have been working for will be for nothing," he warned.

"So, everything you have worked for is at the cost of my happiness?" I asked, my heart breaking a little more.

"Your happiness is of little importance to me if you are dead, do you get that?"

He had a gift, he truly did. To say something that could almost be classed as sweet, sound absolutely wrong.

"Do you get what will happen if this thing falls apart?" he snapped.

There was something in his tone. It almost sounded like fear.

I had always been told that by marrying Patrick, our empires united. We would become strong and powerful and no one would ever think twice about harming us. But what if there was more to the story?

I frowned, "What do you mean?"

It was his turn to frown, "You really have no idea, do you?"

"What, Patrick? What?" I shouted, past frustrated, "just spit it out!"

He sighed, rubbing his lip. I was forced to stand in silence as he thought about telling me the truth.

"Come with me," he finally said, pacing to the stairs.

"No, Patrick," I moaned, "Just tell me."

"I will," he reassured me, "But you have to come with me so that I can explain."

I frowned but followed him up the stairs to the study. He shut the door once we were inside and locked it. My eyes widened, a little scared. What was so important that he couldn't allow the others to hear?

"In New York, there are several Mafias. There's the Russian Mafia, the Italian Mafia, the Chinese Mafia and the Mexican Mafia," Patrick explained, moving around to the back of his desk.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. He had turned into a different person. Not the raging bull that I was familiar with, not the business man that revealed itself or even the almost intimate person that appeared ever so subtly. He was serious, clear but most importantly truthful.

"Each Mafia has their main families. The Russian has three, Pasternak, Krupin, Volkov. The Chinese has two, Yeung and Pan. Mexican has three, Calero, Govea and Aveiro. And then there's the Italian Mafia who has four, Balboni, Caivano...Maestri and Uccello."

I frowned, crossing my arms, "Why hasn't Pappa explained this to me?"

He shrugged, "Perhaps he wanted to spare you. This world isn't for the weak, Eliza. You have to understand that."

"Then why are you?" I questioned.

It was clear that he didn't see me as his ideal Queen, so why did he think I was strong enough to take this?

He shrugged again, "Because I hate being lied to. And I think you do too."

I nodded. He was not wrong there.

"A long time ago, there were five Italian families. Sebastian Drago was the head of that family," he explained.

"Who was he?" I asked, "I mean, to the Mafia?"

A small smile appeared on his face as if he was proud that I was finally getting it.

"Drago was an arms dealer and a very powerful one. He supplied guns to the police, so they were in his pockets, he sold them to small drug gangs in the city and to the Mafias," he recounted, moving around to the front of the desk so that we were now a few steps away, "Drago thought there should only be one Mafia in New York, our Mafia. It was the strongest, the biggest and the most powerful. He had Harald Balboni on board and Paige Caivano was on the fence. My father was dead against it," he tried to convince me, "He knew the importance of the other Mafias for our business and that taking them down would be starting World War III."

"What about my father?" I asked, before he continued.

He froze, rubbing his chin trying to determine if he should continue or not. His beliefs won out.

"Your father was against it too. He worked hard to try and get the other families on board. He even spoke to the other Mafias, telling them about Drago's plan," he paused, "That's what got your mother killed."

I thought he was joking. I thought he was playing a cruel, mean joke. Trying to get back at me for something.

"What?" I growled, my blood starting to boil.

How dare he bring up my mother?

"I know that look, Eliza. You don't believe me," he stated, taking a small step forward causing me to take three back.

"No, no. You can't bring her up, you're not allowed to," I snapped, watching as his eyes almost saddened, "remember when you told me that trust couldn't be given and that you had to prove that you were worthy of it? That works here too. And you don't get that by telling lies about my mother's death!"

"They're not lies, you have my word on that. Sebastian Drago killed your mother because your father was ruining his plans."

"Stop!" I screamed, stumbling back, "You don't get it. I was never told how she died. The more you tell me, the more I realize that my father has been lying to me."

"That's the last thing I want, Eliza," he reassured me, with such truthful eyes that I had to believe him, "I'm not trying to ruin anything between your father and yourself, I'm just trying to tell you the truth."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. I was slowly beginning to realize why people don't tell the truth. The truth fricking hurts.

Trying to get past that, I decided to ask the more important questions, "How did they get rid of him? If this guy was as powerful as you say he was, he was clearly not going to go down without a fight."

He frowned, "You still aren't getting it. Our marriage."

Then I really had to laugh. All the lies came crushing down. It was never about protecting me. It was all about keeping a monster at bay.

"The very idea of our families uniting was enough to send Drago underground. No one has heard from him since –."

"My mother's funeral," I buttered in, the memory flooding back to my head.

We will wait till she's twenty-one. By then, Patrick would have already taken over my empire and Lizzy would have turned into a beautiful young woman. Even the possible thought of uniting our families will drive that bastard underground.

"They were talking about it at my mother's funeral, I remember."

He nodded, as if he already knew. Of course he already knew. He and his father had years to plan this.

Oh God, when did the air get so thick? I couldn't stay in there without being reminded that I was just another pig for the slaughter.

"I need to get out of here," I groaned, stumbling for the door.

"Eliza, don't," Patrick ordered, following me out.

"No, I can't," I mumbled, trying to force my legs to move.

I gasped, my legs buckling when Patrick wrapped an arm around me, locking me to his body.

"You've had a shock," he mumbled in my ear, "It's okay to show your weaknesses around me."

His sweetness only grew my frustration. His mood swings were giving me whiplash and I had, had enough. I couldn't do it anymore.

Groaning, I pushed my way out of his grip and stormed down the hall.

I had been asleep for two hours before my grumbling stomach woke me. The last thing I wanted was to go down there and face Patrick. But I needed food.

I gave myself a quick look over in the mirror and found that I had no energy to care.

I slept walked all the way down to the dining room. You wouldn't believe the wakeup call I got when I found everyone in there. And I mean everyone.

"Oh there you are honey," Mrs Philips smiled, making me feel a little better, "I was just about to come up and see if you wanted anything."

By accident, my eyes landed on Patrick. For the first time, his eyes were showing that he was worried about me and that he actually cared. But his father was the reason I was in this mess.

Taking my place at the end of the table, I curled up into a little ball. I avoided all eye-connect, digging into my spaghetti bolognese. It was so good. The boys fell into conversation which I tried to listen to, to get my mind off everything. But I couldn't, it wouldn't stop.

I couldn't forget the sound of Oscar's voice as he spoke to my father. Under the seriousness of the conversation there was also desperation. Oscar was scared that my father would change sides after what had happened to my mother. So desperate that he would sell his own son. I guess I could also say the same about my own father.

There was another time when I had heard that sound in his voice. At the wedding reception.

I have a lot riding on this marriage and so does your father. We're not just talking money, we're talking safety. Our safety, your safety, everybody's safety.

I never really understood what he meant. It wasn't a statement, it was a threat. He was threatening me because he knew the cost if this marriage broke up.

To join our ancient families

My heart started to sink when I began to realize something else. What if there was another reason behind Oscar Maestri's offer? What if he had just seen his opportunity? Now that Patrick and I were married, our empires joined and that meant our money was too. Patrick was worried because now a stranger shared his empire.

What if I was the one that had to be scared? What if, this was what Oscar wanted? To send Sebastian Drago underground, yes. But to double his money at the same time. Killing to birds with one stone.

My eyes looked up and met Patrick's. He was looking into my soul, trying to read my thoughts. Oh God, if only he knew.

It wasn't long before all these thoughts and Patrick's stare was too hard to take.

"Eliza," he called after me, following me out.

I could have gone anywhere. But his study seemed perfect for a yelling session. I continued to pace the length of the room, trying to get this frustration out of my system. Patrick got to the study and shut the door.

"Eliza, what's wrong?" he asked.

I scoffed. As if he didn't know.

"This was his plan," I growled through my teeth, pointing at Patrick.

"Who? Drago's?"

"No, your father's!" I shouted.

The Patrick I knew returned. He was cold, hard and unforgiveable.

"You be very careful of what you say next, Eliza," he warned, "I don't like it when people speak of my father in a disrespectful manner just as much as you do."

"No, no," I scoffed, "I have a pass. My father wasn't the one that set this up."

"He agreed –."

"He was manipulated!" I shouted, "Your father chose his time perfectly when my father was at his lowest. When there was no hope. What better time for your father to offer him a business deal?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he snapped.

"Figure it out!" I yelled, "Yes, your father wanted to send Drago underground but what better way to do it than to get a whole lot of money on the way."

"Are you saying that my father set this marriage up just to double his fortune? Are you in sane?" he growled.

"You tell me? You clearly know the guy better than me. Do you think he is capable of something like this?" I asked.

His silence gave me my answer.

Pop! Smash! Pop!

"Eliza, get down!" Patrick shouted.

I felt an arm loop around my waist before I felt the softness of carpet at my feet.

Pop! Pop!

"Get behind the desk! Go! Go!"

I could barely hear him over the sound of smashing windows. My palms stung but I couldn't figure out why until I turned them over. Blood? Glass?

It felt like needless scraping my knees as I crawled to safety behind the desk. My cheeks burned as my heart pumped a million miles per second, heating my entire body.

"Garrick!" Patrick roared, crawling his way to the desk, "Keep your head down."

I didn't have time to follow his order. He had already curled me into a ball under his protective body.

Bang! Bang!

Screams escaped my lips as I covered my ears.

"Garrick!" Patrick roared again.

Glass rained down on us, I felt in my hair. My ears rang from the gun shots being fired and my screams that I couldn't force to quieten.

And then it stopped. The silence almost deafening. The only comfort I received was from Patrick's warm, protective body that still covered me.

"It's okay, you're okay," he panted in my ear, running his hands through my hair.

Small, frightened whimpers escaped my lips with no control and couldn't be stopped. Oh God what the hell just happened?

"Patrick? What the hell?" Garrick yelled, as he and the other's filed into the smashed up study.

"Well you took your bloody time!"