Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
AURORA
L ife is easier without Enzo watching my every move.
And while it’s easier, it’s also become harder because nothing’s technically stopping me from hurting Nico. He still hasn’t replaced the inside guard yet. I don’t think he fully trusts his other men to watch me because he doesn’t want me to get hurt.
That’s the problem. While this would be the time to strike … I don’t want to.
I find myself making up excuses why I can’t kill Nico. I’m on my period and thus too tired. I’m not physically strong enough to overtake him. I can’t escape the house without calling attention to myself and, thus, calling attention to Nico’s dead body inside the house.
Excuses, excuses, excuses.
Beatrice would snap at me just to get it over with. But I can’t.
I’m still not fully sure how much Nico was involved. He told me he wasn’t sure if my father was dead or not, meaning he must not have partook in the killing of my father.
So he says.
Can I truly trust him? Nico is a Mafia man after all. He lives within a dark, dangerous world. Who knows what that does to a man?
We keep a slight distance from each other after our date night. It changed things between us. Nico, for once, actually opened up to me.
But then I pushed him away because I couldn’t have sex with him—not when guilt was coursing through me.
So, now, we’re at this strange impasse. We exchange smiles and polite greetings, but nothing else. Nico is a surprisingly patient man. But I’m just not sure if I’ll ever be ready because that will mean giving myself over completely to a man who may have murdered my father.
“How was work?” I ask over dinner. I can breathe now that Enzo isn’t glaring down at me as I eat.
“The usual.”
“What does that mean, exactly?”
Nico chews slowly before answering. “It means I have the police breathing down my neck. It means I need to clean up the messes I’ve made.”
My hand clenches around my water glass. “What … messes?”
“Deals gone wrong. That’s the business I’m in. People like to backstab and play God. I’ve had to put them in their place. It’s tiring work.”
I don’t have to ask what “put people in their place” means. I have a pretty good idea. The image of my father with a bullet to his brain flashes through my mind. Nico is capable of murder—he practically told me that himself on our date. So, why am I trying so hard to see the good in him?
This would all be so much easier if I didn’t have a heart.
“That does sound tiring. My days are spent here, so I can’t really compare.”
He smiles warmly. “There’s no need to compare. I wanted you for my wife. I don’t expect you to be doing my job.”
And there he goes again—being sweet. It makes me want to charge across this table and kiss him.
My body wants Nico. There’s no denying it.
“Can we spend some time together tonight?” I ask.
“Time as in …?”
“As in … we could watch a movie together. That’s a classic date night.”
“How many date nights have you had before?” he asks, taking a sip of his wine.
“Not many,” I admit, blushing. “But I know enough to know that dinner and a movie is a classic date night. Since we’re having dinner …”
“Might as well watch a movie.” He pauses, then nods. “All right. I could use a break from work anyway.”
My heart flutters when Nico and I sit down on the couch and put on a movie. He changed into a casual shirt and comfortable slacks. I like this simple look on him. It makes him more approachable. For the first time, Nico and I feel like a normal couple as we watch Titanic .
“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this,” I say.
“I’ve never had the time. And besides, I know how it ends. The boat sinks.” He places his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in closer to him.
“But there’s so much more that happens than just the boat sinking.”
“What’s it about, then?”
“It’s a love story.”
Nico chuckles. “I’ve never been big on watching romance.”
“Then you don’t know what you’re missing.”
He glances down at me with a smile. “You’re right. I don’t.”
We gaze into each other’s eyes for a moment, and the next thing I know, we’re kissing. The movie is barely a few minutes in, and we’re already making out like teenagers.
Nico deepens the kiss as he lays me onto my back. I don’t stop it. I should, but I don’t.
But when his hand slips down to my leg and tucks it around his hip, I know we’re going too far.
I pull away, gently pushing him off me.
“Too much?” he asks.
“Yeah.” We both sit in silence, the sound suffocating. “I’m sorry.”
He roughly shakes his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.” Despite his words, I see a flash of irritation in his eyes. So, maybe Nico isn’t as patient as I thought.
“I’m just …”
“You don’t have to explain yourself, Aurora. I want you when you’re ready and willing. Not before.”
“But you seem frustrated.”
“I’m fine.” He gently touches my knee. “I am. Am I a little disappointed not to be having sex with my beautiful wife? Yes. But I have no desire to hurt you.”
“But you wanted a wife of convenience. One who could give you children. If we’re not having sex, I can’t give you children.”
“You’ll get there in time.”
But what if I can’t? I don’t ask the question. It would only make this night even more sad.
“Now, come here,” Nico says, pulling me back against him. “We’re here to watch the movie. Let’s watch.”
Even though he’s pretending he’s all right, I can tell he’s not. Nico may be sweet now, but how long will he be sweet when his patience is tested? Will he continue to be a good man?
Or will I finally see the monstrous side Beatrice told me about?
Nico and I decide to go on another date. The sane part of my brain tells me I shouldn’t. That the more I spend going on dates with Nico, the more I’ll care for him.
But the irrational part of my brain doesn’t care. I like being around Nico when he smiles at me and holds my hand and shows me gentleness. I’m finding that the more he does it, the more I crave it.
The date this time is to an art gallery. We hold hands as we walk around, taking in all the paintings and sculptures.
“That one is particularly egregious,” Nico says, pointing at a sculpture of a man giving birth. The man’s eyes are scrunched in pain as he holds his hands down between his legs, catching the baby coming out of his body.
“What would make someone want to make a sculpture like that?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but I’m afraid to meet them.”
His joke makes me smile. Once again, I’m amazed at how at ease I am around Nico. We feel like a normal married couple.
“Can you imagine giving birth?” I ask.
“God, no. And I’m glad I never have to.”
My smile dips a little. Will I ever have children? Will I even survive long enough to have kids?
“But I'll be right beside you when you give birth to our children someday,” he says.
“That’s good. I wouldn’t want to do it alone.”
“I don’t want you to feel alone, Aurora. Ever.”
God, my heart. This man will make me fall in love with him when I’m supposed to be doing the opposite.
“Having a good evening?” a familiar voice interrupts us.
Turning around, I see Detectives Chase and Morgan standing behind us. Chase has the same open, curious expression while Morgan looks critical. Just as before, he keeps his gaze glued on me.
“What are you doing here?” Nico hisses.
Chase raises his hands in mock surrender. “It’s a free country, Mr. Mancini.”
“My wife and I are on a date. Leave us alone.”
“We just had a few more questions. We can step outside if you’d like. If that makes things easier.”
I notice some other gallery-goers glancing in our direction. Chase and Morgan just scream cop. Even if not in trouble, you’d still be wary around them.
“Leave us alone,” Nico says, starting to turn away, but then Morgan says, “That won’t be possible.”
“Why not?” I ask.
“Because we have new information. Giovanni Costa’s body was found in the backyard of his house.”
My entire body goes numb, then it’s filled with shockwaves. I stumble slightly, and Nico steadies me.
But Morgan saw that. His eyes narrow as he continues to look at me.
“This is officially a murder investigation now,” Chase says.
“Am I a suspect?” Nico asks.
“I don’t know.” Chase tries to lean against one of the art exhibits then thinks better of it. “Do you think you’re a suspect.”
“I told you already I don’t know any Giovanni Costa. If you have any more questions, you can contact my lawyer.”
“Why don’t you talk with us again, Mrs. Mancini?” Chase says, turning to me.
“She has a lawyer, too, you can speak to,” Nico says before I can say anything. “Now, leave my wife and me alone.”
“Come on, Mrs. Mancini,” Chase says. “If you know anything, we could help you. We could keep you safe.”
That’s bullshit, and I know it. If these cops really wanted to keep me safe, they wouldn’t be telling me they could keep me safe right in front of my husband, one of their suspects. Why is everyone trying to hurt me? These cops, Beatrice.
Ironically, the only one who seems to care about my safety is Nico.
“You heard my husband. Leave us alone.” My words come out stronger than I expect, especially when I feel weak. They found my father’s body—the one I helped bury. The police could figure out who I am, and then I would be screwed.
I could go to prison for the rest of my life.
“Where were you on August 15?” Morgan asks us.
“As I said, speak to my lawyer,” Nico repeats.
I know exactly where I was. I was burying my father after I found his dead body in the living room.
“All right,” Chase says, nodding for Morgan to follow. “But know we’re watching you, Mr. Mancini.” Both detectives walk away, though not without Morgan giving me one last lingering look.
“Nico?” I ask.
“We’re fine. If they had anything on me, they’d be arresting me right now.”
My heart stutters. “Do they have anything on you? Anything that could come out?”
“No. I didn’t kill Giovanni Costa.”
The intensity with which he says it makes me believe him. But just because he didn’t kill my father with his own hands doesn’t mean he doesn’t know who did. And Nico may have sent the order.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get out of here.”
Nico is tense on the car ride back home. He keeps jerking the car around corners and swerving hard, almost hitting other people.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be driving right now,” I say, gripping my seat tightly.
“I’m fine,” he growls, and I flinch. It’s the first time he’s ever sounded harsh with me. I know it’s because the detectives rattled him, but still, it hurts.
“Nico, slow down.”
“We’re fine,” he snaps back.
And just as suddenly as he says it, we hit another car. Well, another car hits us as we drive through an intersection. The car runs a redlight and slams into the back side of our car, spinning us in circles and making us hit someone else.
Nico manages to get the car under control. “Aurora?”
I’m sitting there, breathing deeply, when I feel the intense pain in my neck. “Nico, I can’t move my neck.”
“I need to get you to the hospital.” He tries restarting the car, but it doesn’t work. “Shit. Let me call 9-1-1.”
Panic seizes through me. “Nico.”
“Don’t talk, baby.” He calls for help, and as he does it, it dawns on me what he just said. Baby. It’s the first time Nico has ever used a pet nickname for me. “Ok. Help is on the way. Just stay still.”
I grab his hand even though I can’t move my neck to look at him. “Keep me safe.”
He squeezes my hand back. “I promise.”
It turns out to be a case of whiplash. The doctor tells me to ice my neck and let it rest for about a week, and everything should be fine. I have no other serious injuries.
Nico and I remain in the hospital room after the doctor leaves. They gave me some pain meds, and already, I can begin to move my neck again.
“I’m so sorry,” Nico says, pacing around the room. “I never should have been driving that fast.”
“You were upset. Those detectives were trying to get a rise out of you.”
“And I can’t believe I let them! You could have been hurt worse, and it would have been my fault.”
“But I wasn’t.” I reach out for him, but Nico turns away, still pacing back and forth. My hand drops awkwardly to my side.
“Damn it!” he shouts, running his hands down his face. “This can’t be happening. You were never supposed to get hurt. Those fucking cops.”
“You said they don’t have anything on you. You’re safe, Nico. We’re safe.” Though, as I speak, I don’t even believe my own words, and if I don’t believe my own words, then how can Nico believe them?
“I’m going to get them,” he growls.
“You’re not seriously saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I can’t have them looking into my life, Aurora.”
“But you told me you didn’t kill”—I gulp— “Giovanni Costa.”
“I didn’t, but you and I both know I’ve done other things. I won’t say what to spare you, but the police have been wanting to get me for years. If they dig around, I could be fucked. The only way is to get the police to stop looking at me.”
“And … killing them is going to do that? It will only put a bigger spotlight on you.”
“Maybe we should leave. Get out of town.”
I manage to stand up from the bed and approach him. “It’s better if we stay. If the cops don’t have anything on you, then you’re fine.”
He inhales slowly. “You’re right. I just hate that you had to get hurt because of me.” He cups my face before letting me go and stepping away. “But we can’t do this anymore, Aurora.”
My stomach drops to my shoes. “Can’t do what?”
“I care for you,” he admits. “But I can’t keep caring for you. If you got hurt, I …”
“So, you’re saying … what exactly?”
“I’m saying we need to put some space between each other. No more dates. We can go back to how things were between us.”
Cold and distant. It would make my feelings for Nico diminish, but I also don’t think I want that.
“Nico.”
“Let me take you home,” he says, already walking out the door.
“What did you do?” Beatrice asks after I show up at her hotel and tell her Nico wants to put the brakes on our relationship.
Nico let me leave the house with a new guard—Jeremy. Thankfully, Jeremy doesn’t ask a million questions like Enzo did. He also doesn’t look at me with suspicion. On the drive over to the hotel, I got the sense Jeremy was just happy to have a job.
“I didn’t do anything,” I say to my aunt. “We ended up in a car accident, which was not my fault, and now, Nico has pulled away from me. He thinks it’ll be easier to keep me at arm’s length.”
“You can’t let that happen. You need to be as close as you can be with him so he’ll trust you. I have the plan in place to get you out. All you need to do is kill him.”
There’s no point in arguing with Beatrice. If I tell her I’m having more doubts about killing Nico, she’ll probably just punch me again. And after my whiplash, I can’t afford that right now.
“But how am I supposed to get him to come back to me?”
“You haven’t slept with him yet, have you?’
“No,” I whisper.
“Then there’s your answer. Have sex with him. Make it so good he craves you forever. He’ll never push you away again.”
Easy for Beatrice to say when it’s not her body.
I hate the idea of using sex as a bargaining chip. I also hate the idea of having sex with Nico because I know it’ll make me grow even closer to him.
I also love the idea of having sex with him because my body is desperate for his touch.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but on the drive back home, I know I need to decide soon.