The sound of the blade still echoed in Mary’s head when Will grabbed her.
Not rough. Not yet. But his hands locked around her wrists with urgency, his voice low, dangerous.
“Where did you get it?”
Mary looked down at the knife still lying between them on the floor. Shining. Accusatory.
“I—” Her voice cracked. “Felicity gave it to me.”
His grip didn’t ease. “Why?”
“She said… she said you were going to hurt me. That you’ve done it before. That you’ve brought girls here and—”
His expression darkened instantly.
“She said some of them left bruised. Some never left at all. And that she—” Mary hesitated, throat tight. “That she was one of them.”
Will let go of her. The contact broke like glass.
He stood up, took two slow steps back, hands flexing at his sides. Then he looked at her, hard. “It’s true.”
Mary’s heart stopped.
Will’s voice was cold but calm. “We slept together. A few times. It wasn’t serious. She was older than you think. Smart. Controlled. She came onto me, not the other way around. And she seemed to enjoy it.”
“Then why—”
“Because she wanted more,” he said. “And I didn’t. So I ended it.”
He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “But I never thought… I never thought she’d still be here, plotting like this. That all this time, I had a snake in my house. Using you.”
The knife still glinted on the floor like it was laughing at them both.
“If things had gone differently,” he muttered, “I’d be dead right now. She almost pulled it off.”
Mary felt cold everywhere.
“There’s something else,” she said.
Will looked up.
“In the bar,” she said slowly. “The night we found my dad… Neil was there.”
Silence slammed into the room.
Will’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes turned to stone. “Neil?”
She nodded. “He was with my father. Said he was laying low. That it was better for him to stay dead. That he wanted to fight from the shadows.”
Will didn’t move.
But something clicked behind his eyes — the slow shift of everything falling into place.
“There’s been no word from him,” he said quietly. “Officially, he’s still missing. Not a trace. And that knife…” He nodded to the floor. “That’s Vongola-made.”
“What does it mean?”
He crouched, picked it up, studied the symbol etched into the hilt. “Silver. No family crest. It’s used to mark something unholy. Something that needs to be cut out. Usually reserved for traitors, or… monsters.”
His hand closed around the blade.
“It means he’s coming for me. And he’s not just coming to kill me. He wants to undo me. Take everything I’ve built. Everyone I care about.”
Mary’s mouth went dry. “Because of my dad?”
“Because of me,” Will said. “Because I didn’t see it coming.”
Before she could retaliate, the door creaked open.