Chapter 44 Bella
BELLA
Alessandro is asleep in the bed at the rear of the plane.
I don’t mean to stop. My feet just do on their own, like they've decided I need to see this before I do what I'm about to do.
He looks so small in the center of the massive bed, buried under blankets, one arm thrown over his head the way children sleep when they feel completely safe. His face is slack and peaceful.
He trusts me. His father trusts me. And I'm about to—
I try to push the thought down as soon as it surfaces, but it won't go away. I spare him one final glance, and then close the door of the bathroom behind me.
For good measure, I lock the door and stand there for a moment to gather myself for what I’m about to do.
My hands are shaking as I connect to the satellite signal. As soon as it connects, I type out my message to Nico.
I need to know I can trust you this time
His response comes back immediately.
Call me
For a long moment, I just stare at the screen.
I know that the ambient noise of the plane is loud enough to cover any conversation I might have. And the door is locked. If Slava comes looking for me, I can end the call before he reaches the bathroom.
But I also know that if I make this call, then there’s no more going back. Once I call Nico, I will have made my choice.
But the weight of two children’s lives hangs heavy around my throat. When I reach up instinctively to clutch the seven-pointed star at my throat for assurance, all I feel is deeper uncertainty.
I hit call, and Nico answers immediately.
"Did you find a way, Bella?"
His voice is different this time. The self-assured mocking tone that had always been there in his voice is gone. And instead, it sounds controlled and measured.
"I think so,” I reply, keeping my voice barely above a whisper. “But how do I know I can trust you? You've done nothing but lie to me from the beginning. How do I know that this isn’t just another lie?"
He’s silent for a while, and then he replies. “I saved your life on the yacht. I argued for mercy when my father was ready to kill you.”
"For selfish reasons,” I remind him. “You weren’t doing it to protect me. You were doing it because you wanted me to keep feeding you information."
"I did."
The honesty catches me off guard.
It's the first time that Nico D'Ambrosio has ever been earnest with me, and it’s almost enough for me to think that maybe this time, he’ll be sincere.
But he’s also burned me enough times that I don’t want him to be earnest.
I want him to be fucking honest.
“That’s not a reason for me to trust you,” I tell him. “I need something more than that.”
The silence stretches, and I hear Nico taking a couple of deep breaths on the other end before he starts speaking again.
"Gia used to take trips to France,” he starts slowly, and there’s a low quiver to his voice, almost like he’s holding back his own tears. “Art trips, she called them. And every time she came back, she came back different. Lighter. Happier. Like someone who'd been given permission to breathe."
He pauses again before resuming in a voice thick with loss.
"I never understood why. But now, I think I do."
I know better than anyone the pain of a younger sibling mourning the loss of an older one, and I remind myself that while Gia entered Slava’s life in the middle, she’d been in Nico’s life since the very beginning.
There was once a time in his life when he never could’ve imagined a life where she wasn’t going to be a part of it.
And now all he has of her are ghosts and memories.
"Did he love her?" he asks me softly.
"Yes," I whisper. "He did."
"And does he love you?"
I can't answer him.
The answer is yes—an unequivocal yes. Slava loves me. He must love me from the way he looks at me. I feel it in the way he holds me. I hear it in the way he begged me to come back under the lashing rain of the storm.
I don’t need him to tell me he loves me to know he does.
“It doesn’t matter if he loves me,” I finally say. “The only thing that matters now is keeping my nephew safe.”
"Our nephews," Nico corrects me. "If you say you found a way, then I trust you. In exchange, I'll do what I can to keep both our nephews safe. I swear it on Gia's memory."
My heart stops, and I don’t dare to let hope find its way in.
"One final effort is all that remains," he continues. "You know what must be done. I’ll speak to you when you’re back."
The line goes dead.
I stand there in the bathroom, staring at the phone in my hand.
There’s nothing that tells me that this isn’t just another manipulation attempt from Nico. Nothing to tell me that this isn’t another lie.
But the grief in his voice when he asked about Gia was real.
She came back different. Lighter. Happier. Like someone who'd been given permission to breathe.
I pull up Google Maps and open up the timeline function. The chateau’s location appears on my screen, and I switch to satellite view to verify that’s exactly what it is.
My thumb hovers over the share button.
Outside in the main cabin of the plane, Slava is waiting for me. On the other side of this door, Alessandro is sleeping. Once I do this, they’ll never be able to return to this place.
But this is the only way to keep both boys safe and alive.
I’m out of options.
So, I share the coordinates.
The message marks as delivered.
Then read.
But there’s no response.
I delete the message, check my reflection in the mirror one more time to make sure my face doesn't betray what I've just done, and unlock the door.
But Alessandro isn’t asleep anymore.
He's sitting up in the bed, those gray eyes fixed on me, watching. In the dimness, his gaze carries his father’s intensity, and I wonder if he’ll see straight to the truth of what I’ve done.
"Who were you talking to?"
I force myself to smile. "A friend."
He considers this with the innocent trust of a seven-year-old who hasn’t been lied to in his entire life. I wait for him to challenge me, to call me a liar, and to let me know that he heard everything.
But he just nods.
"Okay," he says, and lies back down, and closes his eyes.
I stand there for a moment longer than I need to, and then I walk out to rejoin Slava in the seat by his side.
My hand finds his before I'm fully settled, and he gives it the lightest of squeezes.
I curl up on the seat beside him and nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck so he can’t see the tears clinging to the edge of my eyes.