32. Aurora
Chapter 32
Aurora
I have a plan .
And if Romeo trusts me like I hope he does, then it just might work. It has to work. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. It’s why, after a restless night's sleep spent staring at his handsome face, I’ve gone over every possible reason I can come up with to get into Manhattan without worrying him or coming clean.
The faith I have in my plan working doesn’t stop the worry gnawing in my gut. It twists and turns in the pit of my stomach as question after question runs on repeat in my mind.
What if I do this and they hurt him anyway?
Am I making the right decision?
What happens if they kill me?
Would it be better if I told Romeo? Two minds are better than one, after all, and this is his world, not mine.
Resting my hand on my stomach to calm my nerves, I read over the note again. I hate the idea of lying to him, but in this instance, I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission. His refusal, if I came clean but said I wanted to go, would no doubt be instantaneous.
Straightening my spine, I push my shoulders back and force down the anxiety clawing at my throat. I have to do this . Losing him is not an option, not when he’s made me feel again. Not when he holds my heart in his, without even knowing it. Romeo might be used to losing people as part of his job, but I don’t think I could survive it if I lost him. Being kidnapped just might have been the best thing that ever happened to me.
Folding the note and slipping it back between the pages of my pad, I rip out a sheet, writing one of my own. If the worst-case scenario does happen, I want him to know the one thing I’ve not been brave enough to say. My eyes sting as my hand moves across the paper. When I’m done, I open my pad, drawings of my mom staring back at me as I lay the note on top and close the cover. Resting my hand on top, I blow out a breath before forcing my body to move.
I take my time getting ready, every action taken like it might be my last. There’s a gloominess hanging heavy on my shoulders, pulling my already melancholy mood down. It matches the gray, thunderous clouds filling the sky. My eyes drift to the window each time I pass through the bedroom as I get ready.
Is this a sign of what’s to come?
God, I need to get out of my own head. There will still be people in Manhattan. Hell, even in Central Park at 8 pm. It’s spring, the days are getting longer, it won’t even be dark. It’s going to be fine. I’ll find out what they want and then come back and discuss it with Romeo. Easy .
Pulling open the bedroom door, I head to the kitchen for breakfast with Romeo. We’ve fallen into a routine these past few days. If he doesn’t wake me with breakfast, I meet him in the kitchen and we eat together, chatting over my plans for the day—which usually consists of drawing in the garden or reading a magazine Haven picked up for me in the entertainment room. Romeo doesn’t share much of his plans and I don’t press him.
Maybe I should have.
I move through the house on autopilot, every step fueling the fire of anguish burning inside of me. My palms are sweaty as I rub them over my denim-clad thighs. By the time I arrive in the kitchen, the nausea has taken over and the magnitude of what I’m about to do and the fallout that could ensue hits me like a freight train.
Pausing on the threshold, I stare at Romeo as he chats with Maria. My eyes roam over him, cataloging every detail, from the hair that curls at the nape of his neck to his neatly trimmed fingernails. The morning newspaper is stretched out in front of him and there’s a lightness to his demeanor that wasn’t there when we first met.
Is that because of me?
This man has taken my grief and my darkness and made me see that I can be happy without feeling guilty for living. That’s something I never thought would be possible.
Unshed tears threaten to spill and the idea that he might not forgive me chokes the air from my lungs.
“Are you going to stand there all day, bellissima ?”
Heat creeps into my cheeks and I duck my head, hiding my face behind the curtain of my hair. Exhaling out all the emotions that have been weighing heavy on my mind, I move across the room and take a seat at the table. I offer up a smile, just like I have each morning we’ve eaten together, praying that he doesn’t notice how forced it feels.
“Good morning. How did you sleep?”
A grin splits his face, leaving me stunned at his beauty. I take a mental picture, unsure how long it will be before he graces me with a smile again. No matter how certain I am that my plan is the right way forward, Romeo will be pissed and I don’t know how that will be channeled. Will he send me to the basement without hearing me out? Or will he be rational and listen to my reasoning? Or worse yet, will he kill me?
The unknown has a lump forming in my throat, and when he closes the newspaper and turns toward me, I squirm in my seat. There’s a searing heat in his inky blue eyes, begging me to come closer, to give in to him.
“You know full well how I’ve slept, Aurora. And Maria doesn’t care what we get up to in the privacy of our bedroom, so you don’t need to be coy around her.”
My lips part and I dip my chin to hide my surprise at him confirming our relationship. If that’s what you can call it . I want to squeal, jump around, and ask him to say it again, but I settle for biting my lip to keep the smirk at bay. Despite what he’s said, I lean into him, keeping my voice low when I tease, “So, not too much sleep then.”
Romeo shakes his head, moving closer until his mouth is less than an inch away from mine. “Maybe I should bend you over this table and show you how little of a fuck I give about other’s opinions.”
I suck in a breath, my eyes dropping down to his mouth as I chew on my bottom lip. Oh. Yes, please .
He pulls away, looking down at the newspaper and chuckling. “I think you’d like that far too much, bellissima .”
Maria arrives at my side and I shake my head to rid it of the naughty thoughts whirling around inside it.
Setting down a bowl of fresh fruit in front of me, she pats me on the shoulder. “Buon appetito.” There’s a twinkle in her eye, and as heat fills my cheeks, I turn my attention to the bowl.
Needing a distraction, I pick up a fork, stabbing at a piece of melon, and bringing it to my lips. Before I pop it into my mouth, I inject as much casualness as I can possibly muster into my tone as I ask, “So, what do you have planned for today?”
Romeo watches me as I slide the melon into my mouth, his eyes darkening when my tongue darts out to swipe up the juice left behind on my lips.
Clearing his throat, he picks up his espresso and takes a sip. “It’ll be business as usual. What are you going to do?”
Laying my fork on the placemat, I smooth my hands over my thighs, trying to keep the nervous twinge in my throat away. I need him to say yes without asking any questions. Here goes nothing . “I was hoping to go to Manhattan and pick up a few essentials. There’s a store I’d like to go to and pick up a dress for that thing next week, but I want to try it on first.”
He doesn’t speak for the longest time and it takes everything in me to stay still and not show any outward sign of the turmoil swirling in the pit of my stomach. My hand trembles as I pick up the fork and stab at a cube of pineapple. I squeeze the metal so tightly in between my fingers that I’m surprised it doesn’t bend.
He’s going to say no .
Romeo stands, stuffing his hands into his pockets and drawing my eye line to his crotch. Do not get distracted, Aurora . I watch him from under my lashes, sliding the pineapple into my mouth and slowly chewing it. It tastes like cardboard.
Throwing a black card onto the table, he clears his throat before he speaks. “There’s no limit on the card, so get whatever you want, but make sure it’s easily accessible. I’d hate to have to ruin it.”
He wraps his fingers around my throat, forcing my head back to meet his as he bends to kiss me. My arms reach up, wrapping around his neck as I deepen the kiss, needing more of him. More than he can give me right now, anyway. Later . We’ll have all the time in the world for more when I get back. If I get back, if he forgives me... He has to. When I tell him why, he’ll forgive me. God, he has to.
Releasing my lips, he rests his forehead on mine, his eyes searching for something I refuse to show him. I look away, forcing his hold on me to drop. Lying to him doesn’t feel good, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to come clean, but he stands tall, cupping my cheek and forcing me to look at him again. A groove forms between his brows, and I know that my demeanor is worrying him.
Swallowing down the bitter taste of my deceit, I force a smile to my lips. “Have a good day.”
His eyes narrow a fraction before he nods and replies, “Enjoy your shopping. I’ll have Angelo meet you in the lobby in an hour, so enjoy your breakfast and maybe have a cornetto .”
My eyes track him as he strides from the room and it’s only when I can be certain that he’s gone that I exhale and collapse back into my chair.
That’s the easiest part of my day over and done with.