Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Eleonora
Gallo is dead.
Nico killed him three days ago right in front of me, and the nightmare that man represented died with him. Yet my body hasn’t caught up with that truth. My mind still spins with fear when the lights go out.
The past three days have been strange and heavy.
Nico moved back into our bedroom the same night it happened. He hasn’t left my side since. He sleeps with me every night, his arms wrapped tightly around me like he’s afraid I might disappear if he lets go.
I’m grateful for it. Because most nights I wake up gasping, drenched in sweat, convinced Gallo’s hands are dragging me away, his voice promising to make me his.
Every single time, Nico is there.
He pulls me against his chest, one hand stroking my hair, the other rubbing my back. His voice is low and steady in the dark.
“You’re safe, baby. You’re here with me. No one is going to hurt you. I won’t let them. I’ve got you.”
I believe him when he says it. I cling to him tighter and let his heartbeat calm mine until I can fall asleep again.
We haven’t spoken much about what happened. There’s a quiet understanding between us now. He gives me the space I need to process everything, but he never lets me be truly alone.
He makes sure I eat. He sits with me when I stare off into nothing. He’s just… there. Steady. Present.
I’ve been trying so hard to be strong for Sienna. She’s slowly getting better, but the loss of Domenico still haunts her and she hates our father even more after the attack.
During the day, I sit with her in the living room or the garden, forcing smiles and gentle laughter even when I feel hollow inside. I don’t tell her about my nightmares. She’s carrying enough already. I won’t add my fears to her burden.
I feel safest when I’m near Nico. So sometimes when Sienna is napping, I slip into his office and curl up on the couch while he works.
I know I’m distracting him. I know he’s not getting nearly as much done with me always around, but he never complains. He just glances over every few minutes, checking on me, making sure I’m okay.
And I’m so grateful he doesn’t get annoyed by how clingy I’ve become. He never sighs or pulls away. He just holds me tighter when I need it.
I still haven’t given him an answer about the ring. About marriage. About any of it.
But every night when he wraps himself around me and whispers that I’m safe, I feel something deep inside me shifting. Softening.
He might have kept his plans about my sisters from me, but one thing I’m certain of is that Nico will protect me with his life if it ever comes to that.
Early this morning, I woke up gasping from another nightmare, Gallo’s hands dragging me through the garden, Daniel’s betrayal, the sound of gunfire, Nico never reaching me in time.
I woke up crying, shaking, and Nico was already there, pulling me tightly into his arms. He held me through every sob, whispering that I was safe, that he had me, that no one would ever take me from him again.
I cried until I had nothing left, and I fell back asleep feeling completely safe in his arms.
Now, I wake up slowly, the morning sun filtering through the curtains.
I’m still wrapped in Nico’s arms. He’s still sitting up against the headboard, his back straight, arms locked around me like he never moved all night.
I blink, realizing how uncomfortable he must be. His neck is probably killing him. How long has he been holding me like this?
Asleep, he looks different. Softer somehow. The hard lines that usually carve his features have eased.
Dark stubble shadows his jaw, his dark hair is a mess, falling across his forehead in unruly strands.
As I try to shift away carefully, his eyes open. He looks at me, and a soft, tired smile curves his lips.
“Hey,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I whisper back.
He brushes a few strands of hair from my face, his touch gentle. “Did you sleep okay?”
I nod. “Yeah…”
My eyes move over him. “You’ve been like this since my nightmare? Sitting up? You could’ve woken me. We could have laid down properly.”
He sits up straighter, cracking his neck with a small wince. “No. You finally fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”
The guilt deepens. “I’m so sorry. You must be exhausted and in pain because of me—”
He shushes me softly, cupping my face with one hand. “Hey. Stop. If sitting like that all night is what you needed to get even an hour of real sleep, then I don’t mind. I’d do it every night if it helps you feel safe.”
His words hit something deep inside me. My eyes sting with sudden tears. I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tightly, burying my face in his shoulder.
“Thank you,” I whisper, voice breaking. “I don’t know if I deserve someone like you…”
He holds me close. “I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. You're too pure for me.”
“No, I'm not,” I murmur against his skin and he chuckles.
I eventually pull back, sitting up and folding my legs underneath me. He’s watching me quietly, that careful look in his eyes.
We haven’t really talked since before the Daniel incident. I told him I needed time to think about the engagement, about everything. And he’s respected that completely.
I look down at my bare finger for a moment, then back up at him.
“Can I… have the ring back?” I ask softly.
The way his face morphs is instant and breathtaking. A beautiful, relieved smile breaks across his lips, lighting up his entire expression.
Before I can even finish the sentence, he reaches over to the bedside drawer with lightning speed, pulls out a velvet box, and opens it.
In one smooth motion, he takes my hand and slides the ring back onto my finger, where it belongs. His thumb brushes over it gently, almost reverently.
“Right where it belongs,” he murmurs, voice low and thick with emotion.
His gaze lifts to mine, hopeful and intense. “So… that means you’re marrying me?”
I nod, a small, teary smile breaking through. “Yes. I’m marrying you.”
The joy that floods his face is something I’ll never forget.
“Best news ever.”
His eyes brighten, that rare, genuine smile spreading wide as he pulls me into his arms and holds me tight, like he’s afraid I might change my mind.
After a long moment, I pull back just enough to look at him.
“When I found out you were making plans about my sisters without telling me… it hurt,” I admit quietly.
“It made me feel the same way I used to feel with my father, like my life, and theirs, were being decided without any say from us. Like we were just pieces to be moved.”
Nico’s expression softens with regret. He cups my face with both hands, thumbs brushing my cheeks.
“That was never my intention,” he says earnestly.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry.
I’ve seen how much you carry for your sisters.
The last thing I wanted was to add more fear to your heart.
I was going to tell you once I had a solid plan.
I thought I was protecting you… but I see now that keeping you in the dark made you feel powerless. I’m sorry.”
I know he isn’t the kind of man who apologizes. The fact that he did warms my heart.
I lean into his touch. “I know you were trying to help. And I appreciate that. But I need to be kept in the loop. Even if you’re handling it, not knowing what’s happening makes me feel powerless… trapped. I spent my whole life with no say in anything. I don’t want to feel that way with you.”
He holds my face a little tighter, eyes locked on mine with fierce sincerity.
“You will never feel powerless with me,” he says, voice deep and steady. “Never. If anything, you’ll feel more powerful because of me. You’re not a pawn anymore, Eleonora. You’re my partner. My wife. My equal. Your voice will always matter here.”
I search his eyes and find nothing but truth.
I don’t doubt him. Not even for a second.
“I'm not yet your wife,” I say with a coy smile.
A warm smile spreads across his handsome face. “You'll soon be,” he sounds so possessive.
I lean forward and kiss him softly, pouring everything I feel into it, the fear, the gratitude, the growing love. He kisses me back with the same depth, holding me like I’m the most precious thing in his world.
Pulling away, I look at him, my heart feeling a little lighter than it has in days.
“Thank you for saving me from Gallo and my father," I whisper.
Nico kisses me softly, his hand cupping the side of my face. “I’ll always protect you,” he murmurs against my lips.
“And I promise I’ll keep you in the loop from now on. But if I ever keep something from you, it won’t be to control you or shut you out. It’ll only be because I don’t want to put you in danger. Can you live with that?”
I nod, brushing my nose against his. “I can live with that.”
We kiss again, deeper this time. I lean into him, pressing my body flush against his, craving the warmth and closeness I’ve missed so much these past week.
My hands slide up his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as I kiss him with everything I’ve been holding back. I’ve missed him. Missed this. Missed the way he makes me feel safe and wanted.
But after a few moments, he pulls back reluctantly, breathing a little heavier, forehead resting against mine.
“As much as I would love to continue this right now,” he says, voice low and rough, “I have a meeting with your father this morning.”
I tense immediately in his arms.
He notices and rubs my back soothingly. “Now that Gallo is dead, the balance has shifted. Your father knows he no longer has the upper hand. He’s finally agreed to meet in person to talk terms.”
Nico pulls back just enough to look at me properly.
“Considering you’ve taken the ring back and agreed to be my wife… I want to talk to him about marrying you. Only if you’re okay with it.”
My heart skips. “You were going to talk to him about a marriage alliance even before I took the ring back?”
He shakes his head. “No. Originally, I planned to renegotiate the port access and the alliance without marriage.”
I search his eyes and see nothing but honesty.
“Okay,” I say softly. “You can talk to him about the marriage.”
He kisses me again, slow and deep, like a promise. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine.
“Will you be okay with me gone for a while?”
I nod. “Yes. I’ll spend the day with Sienna. Don’t worry about me.”
Nico kisses me one last time, long and lingering, before he reluctantly gets out of bed, but not before whispering promises of the filthy things he'll do to me when he gets back.