Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Six weeks later
The sudden splashing of ice-cold water against his head, prickling his skin and drenching him in mere seconds made Adriano jerk awake from his stupor.
He let out a string of filthy expletives, wondered if he was imagining Fabi’s half giggle, half gasp.
Dios mio , where was he and why did his head feel like there was a large metal rod poking through it? What day was it?
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty .” Bruno’s dry mockery felt like a shout, then he felt his arms under his pits.
Through sheer stubbornness, his best friend lifted him, dragged him into what apparently was his bathroom, because the marble was suddenly cold against his feet.
Adriano blinked and tried to clear his head but hangover was a screw behind his eyes, poking and drilling and…screwing with his balance. He heard Fabi shout that she would make some coffee and then Bruno was stripping him and dragging him again and then there was the ice-cold spray of water all over his naked skin.
With what he hoped was a masculine growl, but was sure was an unmanly yelp, he turned the knob to blazing hot spray. His skin felt like it was being pricked by a thousand needles but slowly, surely, sanity returned. Along with his location and his current state.
He had checked into his usual suite at George V in Paris three days ago and gotten filthy drunk. The thought of facing work or his family or anyone for another weekend had felt like torment. It was the sixth weekend in a row he had checked into some hotel incognito and gotten filthy drunk.
It was the last thing he’d expected of himself, ever.
As if she was a witch who’d cast a curse on him, Nyra’s parting words to him came true. Night or day, waking or sleeping, the image of her in some man’s arms…tormented him. The pain of what she had done, the loss of her shy smiles, of her tight hugs and her welcoming body, felt like a physical ache he could only numb with alcohol. It felt as if someone had gouged his heart out of his chest and left a gaping, weeping wound.
For the second time in his life, he had no control over his thoughts, his feelings, and worse, his actions. And he didn’t know how to fix it.
Unless it involved seeing her and talking to her…
Is there anything to explain? she’d demanded, such fury written on her face. She hadn’t denied that she’d stolen all those things, but the pics…they had shocked her, disgusted her and, finally, infuriated her.
If she was innocent—how she could be with those pics staring at him in technicolor, he didn’t know—why hadn’t she said one word to that effect?
The band of muscles in his stomach tightened as if trying to expel the discomfort sitting there like a boulder. By the time he dressed and emerged into the attached kitchen, he felt minimally human. And worse than before as far as his emotions were concerned.
Because, for just a second, he’d considered bringing her back even if she had…
Fabi threw herself at him, her skinny arms wrapping around his middle like tentacles, whispering, “I’m sorry.”
Adriano ruffled her hair and stroked her back. Over her head, he met Bruno’s eyes. He was pouring coffee, and yet his best friend’s gaze didn’t relent for a second in conveying its message of rebuke and…guilt.
He cut his gaze away—another first for Adriano—unwilling to face Bruno’s recriminations. “Fabi, whatever you have done, yet again, I’m sure it is fixable,” he said, forcing a patience he didn’t feel. “I’ll talk to Mama and sort it out.”
When his sister looked up, it wasn’t the usual naughty expression on her face. She nodded, almost to herself and muttered, “Let’s hope you feel the same after you hear everything.”
Taking the cup Bruno offered, Adriano took several sips of the scalding coffee. His world tilted a little straighter but not all the way. He was beginning to think it would never be the same without his wife.
“Are you feeling sane enough to listen?” Bruno asked.
“I’m allowed a weekend’s privacy. Your job is not to tail me all over the world like a dog,” he said, letting his irritation at being caught in such a state slip into his words. “And why the hell are you dragging Fabi around? She shouldn’t have to see me in such a…state.”
“Since you’re behaving the same way Papa does, you mean,” his sister said, and then ducked her head.
“I couldn’t shake her off,” Bruno replied, utterly unfazed by Adriano’s attack. “She wanted to be here when I tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Adriano demanded.
“Fabi has something to say about the photos.”
The coffee cup shattered in Adriano’s hand, as if it were nothing but a kid’s play cup. Hot liquid scalded his hand on top of a shard digging into his palm. But all of that felt like nothing but a background hum to the rage he felt at his friend’s betrayal. He pushed at Bruno’s chest with his scalding hand, his control in broken pieces just like the ceramic. “I asked you to burn those photos. How dare you show them to her?”
“I demanded to see them.”
Adriano stared at the cut on his palm. “ Dios mio , Fabi. I know you loathe the air she breathed, but you cross so many lines if you derive pleasure from this mess.”
Fabi flinched as if he had struck her. “I know how I behaved toward her was…horrible. I…” She took a deep breath. “I was the one who snooped in her belongings and figured out that she was making those trips to London. I was the one who tipped off Bruno and then he hired that PI. I started it all.”
“You snooped through her belongings…” Hot shame slithered through Adriano’s chest. How had he not protected his wife from this kind of behavior from his own family? Was that what had driven her to…
“That’s not all,” Bruno added as if he realized that Adriano was this close to throwing them both out of the suite by the scruff of their necks.
“Apology accepted, Fabi. Now get out.”
“No. I was insecure because of how much you seemed to…prefer her company to any of us. You even forgot my birthday this year.” Catching his gaze, she stuttered. “You know what Mama and… Papa have been like our whole lives. You’re everything to me, to Federico, even if he won’t say it. It felt like she was stealing you from us, Adriano. So, I followed Mama’s tune and was a bitch to her, si . And she never once called me on it until that day at dinner…” Fabi sniffled. “After she left, I bugged Bruno why, and he told me and…I couldn’t believe that you would believe some cheap photos. The reason Mama feels so threatened by Nyra is precisely because she seems to be made of the kind of integrity and loyalty that she has never understood. I can’t believe you thought that Nyra would…betray you like that. Anyway, I insisted on seeing the photos and…” Tears poured down her cheeks.
Adriano turned to Bruno.
“It’s not Nyra. In the photos,” Bruno said, rushing through his words, knowing Adriano was at the end of his tether. “Fabi’s the one who spotted the difference. The woman in them, she has a tattoo under her…breast. It’s in shadow but it’s there, especially when you zoom in on the soft copy. A tiny rose. As far as I know, Nyra doesn’t have a tattoo anywhere on her body.”
For just a second, Adriano had the insane urge to punch his best friend in his face for knowing that about his wife, for taking her name with such reverence. He’d always known that Bruno had a soft spot for Nyra, but this was a crossing of boundaries and he wouldn’t tolerate any man, even his best friend, noticing things about…
Then the blaring truth struck him with the force of a tsunami.
It wasn’t Nyra in the photos. She hadn’t cheated on him. She hadn’t broken their vows, she hadn’t…
The relief that flooded his entire being was short-lived, decimated by guilt that clawed its bloody nails across his insides. Sinking against the bench by the foot of the untouched bed, Adriano buried his face in his hands.
The pale tint to her tawny golden skin as she held his eyes, the streak of tears that he’d mocked her for, the hurt pinching her mouth…she’d refused to explain herself, but the truth had been written on her face.
And even knowing how to read it, even knowing her better than he’d ever known another woman in his life, he had failed.
I hope the image of me with that man haunts you for the rest of your life.
Her parting words skewered him afresh, for he now understood the ferocious thrust beneath.
“Who is the woman in the photos?” he said, the cobwebs clearing from his head. One little shift in perspective and the truth blinded him with its simplicity.
“Her twin, Nadia. I sent you her file. They were separated when they were fourteen. Once Fabi spotted the difference, I went back to the PI and located the woman. Nadia has a history of…” Bruno looked hesitant. “Drugs. I’m not sure if Nyra even knows that. She’s just been leaving her envelopes full of cash in places that Nadia asked her to. Even though Nadia refused to meet her. The PI mistook her for Nyra at the café and followed her. Their background…you should brace yourself. It’s going to be problematic. For you.”
I needed the money, Adriano, urgently , she had said, looking devastated .
But he hadn’t been in a listening mood. He’d already decided that she was guilty.
“Worse than what I’ve created?” he scoffed, rubbing a hand over his face.
Bruno dropped the name of a notorious financial embezzler’s name into the silence—a man who had ruined thousands of livelihoods through Europe, apparently his wife’s father—and the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. A pithy curse flew out of Adriano’s mouth.
So that’s why Nyra had lied that she was an orphan, why she’d been happy to hide herself away in the margins of his life. But why not tell him that she had an identical twin when faced with those cheap photos? Why not trust him with a little bit of the truth?
Like you trusted her , a voice whispered sarcastically.
“Find her,” he said, shooting to his feet.
He had been called a lot of things by the media and his own family, ruthless and tyrannical being the most common, but Adriano never punched down on the innocent.
Neither was he so full of his own ego that he couldn’t admit when he made a mistake. This wasn’t just a mistake though, but a blunder of epic proportions.
Urgency beat through him as he rifled through his discarded jacket for his phone. “Put as many people as you need on it, Bruno. Make sure you—”
“I know where she is,” came Bruno’s reply.
Adriano turned to find his friend’s steady gaze. A torrent of questions, all fueled by jealousy and possessiveness, filled him, but he held them back. Then came another new helping of shame, because despite the photo, he had a feeling that Bruno hadn’t believed that Nyra had cheated on him.
It galled and scraped and burned.
Adriano let his friend see the shame lick at him in a thousand little flames. Maybe that’s why they had stuck to each other through everything. To hold each other to a standard above any they’d ever been shown.
“Where is she?” he said, putting on his jacket. “Ask Pascale to get the chopper ready and—”
“She’s at my farmhouse, an hour north of Milan.”
Apparently, this day held no end of small shocks. “Since when?”
“Since she left,” Bruno said, instead of since you asked her to leave. A consideration he didn’t deserve. “She asked me if I could find her somewhere to stay for a couple of days. Until she could figure out what to do.”
“And she’s been there all this time?”
Something flashed in Bruno’s eyes, but he only nodded.
“Why?”
“Why did I help a helpless woman who had nowhere else to go?” Bruno said, with a soft scoff. “Because you taught me to always do the right thing.”
Adriano swallowed and nodded, disbelief and gratitude twining through him.
Why had Bruno believed her to be innocent even when he’d had the proof, while Adriano hadn’t? What was he lacking?
He had a feeling that question was going to torment him for a long time.
* * *
Nyra knew it was time to stop hiding at Bruno’s farmhouse.
She couldn’t return to Vegas or London though. Not in her current condition. Not when she had a hundred and six dollars to her name. Not when she hadn’t sold any of her art in a while. She’d been too distracted to paint while stealing and selling things to raise enough cash to help Nadia.
And in the six weeks since Adriano had thrown her out, her head, and her heart , were full of regrets and recriminations, with nothing left behind for inspiration.
Should she have explained that it wasn’t her in those horrible photos? Wasn’t Adriano valid in his anger when he didn’t know that she had an identical twin?
But why did he have to be so cold and cruel toward her?
Did she even have the right to indulge in this righteous fury and this reckless tantrum when she was going to be a mother?
Questions pelted her from every direction, as they’d done since she’d arrived at the farmhouse. Sooner or later, she’d have to tell Adriano and demand some kind of settlement.
Life had taught her to be practical if nothing else. He was the father and she wasn’t going to simply fade away from his life because he’d ordered her to.
She just needed to muster the courage to face him and fight him, if need be. See him just one more time, and then, never again.
The sound of a car driving up the winding gravel road toward the farmhouse made her skin prickle with alarm. She stared at the rubbish splashes she’d made on the easel, but for once couldn’t care.
Was it divorce papers? Would he serve them himself?
It was a miracle that Bruno had kept her whereabouts a secret for so long. Her husband was a prestigious banker with an illustrious family history. No doubt Nigella would find him the perfect wife this time.
All she cared about right now was that she got what she needed. Even as an eighteen-year-old alone in the world, she’d never asked for handouts. But now, she would fight and bargain and negotiate tooth and nail.
The summer heat was in full swing. She stood up, took a drink of water and wiped her neck with a dirty rag just as she felt a presence behind her. The small hairs on her neck and arms stood up, and a shiver zinged down her spine.
Her body reacted like that to only one man’s gaze. Had done so from the first moment he had looked at her.
So he had come himself.
It took all the courage she had to stay standing on knees that suddenly felt like they were made of pudding. She gathered her bravado, mostly fake, and her dignity, very real, to herself, before she grabbed the edge of the table littered with paint supplies for support and turned.
Adriano stood inside the curving archway of the open barn, blocking all light. Sucking in all the air, exerting his own gravity on her. Pulling her into his orbit.
She didn’t mean to do it, but her hands automatically drifted to her belly, the small bump visible beneath the smock she had tied over a cotton sundress. A protective gesture, she realized, in front of a man she didn’t trust anymore.
His gray-green gaze followed her hands. Shock made the black swallow the fascinating hues of his eyes. A gaunt bleakness bracketed his mouth.
She braced herself, even as something inside her splintered at his reaction. That he had to find out like this wasn’t on her. She repeated that like a mantra.
“You’re pregnant,” he said, after what felt like an eternity of staring at her. His chest rose and fell, and it was the most agitated Nyra had ever seen this man she thought of as a mountain.
“Glad to see you’re sharp as ever,” she said dryly, pouring oil into her palms. The rubbing action gave her something to focus on, even though she didn’t require the blend she usually used to get rid of the oil paint stains from her fingers.
He pushed off the wall, as if finally, he could trust his legs to hold him up. It was so uncharacteristic of the smoothly confident man she knew that it balanced out her own teetering emotions.
There was nothing he could say that could hurt her anymore. Or touch her in any way.
Bafflement made his mouth slack. He rubbed a finger over his temple and she had the sense of contained but volcanic temper. And a stupid part of her wanted to see the explosion. “You’re already showing. How far along are you?”
“Eight weeks.”
He flinched, as if she’d launched a missile at him. “So you knew that day…”
She nodded.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Turning around, she straightened the supplies she’d spread around the table. “And have you throw another dirty accusation in my face?”
His soft grunt was loud in the silence, and she was glad that she didn’t have to see his face.
“Is it…? Are you…?”
Fresh anger came to her aid, making her whirl around too fast. “Are the babies growing in my belly yours? Yes, Adriano.”
“Babies? As in plural?”
“Twins, yes. And no, I have no proof that they are yours and I honestly don’t care to provide it.”
A sudden thought made her jerk back and she hit her hip on the sharp edge of the table. She gasped.
Then he was there, his corded arm steadying her. His warm breath hitting her cheek in whispery strokes. The heat from his body was a blanket, beckoning her close. The power thrumming through his frame lulling her into a false sense of security.
All she wanted to do was lean into him and let him carry her away. Where she didn’t have to worry about how she was going to raise two babies all by herself. But…that was the easy, cowardly way out.
Murmuring thanks, she stepped away before her base urges won out and defeated her in the process.
As she rubbed the sore spot on her hip, the offending thought came back to her. “I will not under any circumstance go through any kind of DNA testing, simply to prove paternity to you. There’s no test that’s not invasive and inherently harmful to the babies. I’m a UK citizen and I’ve been boning up on my rights.”
“You have consulted a lawyer?”
“Yes, one of Bruno’s friends. I have paid the lawyer a small retainer, which she was generous enough to accept.”
His jaw tightened, and a vein pulsed in his temple. No doubt it was at the thought of a lawyer arming her with information in case it came to a custody fight. The very thought sent a cold shiver through her core.
“You’re cold,” he said, reaching for her hands.
Nyra jerked away. “No. I’m rather hot, actually. It’s your being here that’s making my body react with fear.”
This time, she caught the rearing back of his chin, as clearly as if she’d swung a punch.
A whiteness emerged around his mouth. “You’re afraid of me, Nyra?”
She shrugged. “You’re a very powerful man who thinks I’ve wronged you and threw me out without looking back. I’ve been counting my blessings that your family is too scared of you. Or my alleged sins would have hit the media already.
“And yes, while I’m afraid, I can’t be the helpless, starstruck damsel you picked up in Vegas if I want my children to grow up with a healthy sense of security and stability. I know you probably think that you made a huge mistake by not making me sign a prenup, but I want very little in terms of a settlement.”
Her chin wobbled. No, there was no place for shame here, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do to provide the love and stability she hadn’t known in so long. “The lawyer said I should ask for alimony too, but all I want is a trust fund for the babies. You can set it up so it’s overseen by someone you trust, like Bruno. If you deny me, then I will wait until they’re born and file for paternity claim.”
“Why wait?” he asked smoothly, as if they were discussing a merger for his company.
“Paternity can be proved without a doubt then and the courts will order you. I’d rather not have it go to that. And I’m hoping you won’t want that kind of publicity to damage the great Cavalieri name.”
“Like you’ve been protecting the Cavalieri name this whole time?” he said smoothly. “By lying to me about who you are?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t want my background to become a problem for you. After the kindness you showed me in Vegas and later.”
“I wish my kindness,” he said, enunciating the words, “had begat your trust, Nyra.”
No answer came to her for that fair question.
“So you’re claiming that the babies are mine?” he said, the fracture in his temper already smoothed over.
Like that day in his study, a great, overwhelming urge to do violence to his pretty face came over Nyra. She forced herself to breathe through it and fought the rising scream too.
When she turned to him, it was to find him observing her like she was a fascinating specimen, his head tilted to the side.
“Yes. That’s what I’m claiming , Adriano,” she said, air quoting the word.
“Then there’s no reason for a trust fund or a lawyer or any other nonsense. You simply need to come home.”
Nyra snorted, even as a new fear slithered through her belly. “Right? Because you believe my word about my babies.”
“ Ours, Nyra. Our babies,” he said, so softly, so gently, with her name a caress on those lips that she thought she might break apart. Some steely resolve hardened in his eyes. “And si , I believe you.”
“Are you sure? Like really sure, Adriano?” She threw the rag aside and started putting the lids on the numerous glass jars of paint, shaking with anger she didn’t want to give in to. “Who knows what kind of photographs might emerge a few months from now with the exact date-stamp of their conception? I don’t have the energy for your outrage and for being kicked out again. So please, just give me a tiny parcel of your mighty fortune, and a divorce. You’ll never have to see me again.”
“ Basta , Nyra,” he said, showing the first crack in his smooth, rippleless countenance. “I know it wasn’t you in the photographs but your twin, Nadia. Your father was Amal Shah, the Ponzi schemer who stole millions from unsuspecting clients and their pensions across Europe and died in jail. And I know why you stole those candlesticks, why you sold our wedding ring. I’m…” He reached her then, and his fingers, those long, slender, blunt-tipped fingers she knew as well as her own, trembled as he stroked them over her cheek. “You should have told me, Nyra. All you had to do was speak one sentence, and I would have taken care of all your problems.”
She laughed then, and even to her own ears, the sound was broken, bitter. “Either you’re still in shock over the truth of my background or that great conscience of yours is stealing your rationality, Adriano. You’re forgetting what will happen when it leaks whose daughter your wife is.
“Wronged people have long memories. Even after all these years, the slightest mention of my father’s name in the media or online sends ripples through all the innocent lives he ruined. Posts will go up in forums about how we’re hiding away in some exotic place, living like heiresses off of the blood of others.
“Your great family name, your pristine reputation as the most innovative, respectable banker Italy has ever seen will be dragged through mud.”
“That is my cross to bear,” he said with a rough exhale. “And I would have made sure it never touched you again.”
She stared at him in shock. Why wasn’t he angry that she’d hidden a truth that could ruin his and his family’s reputation? Why wasn’t he judging her, like the entire world had done, for whose daughter she was? Where was the contempt and the disgust that she and Nadia had carried like a curse and a taint with them wherever they went in those early years after their father had been imprisoned?
Overnight, they and their mother hadn’t just lost their home, but friends and classmates and neighbors they had known all their lives had turned against them. At school, their days had become unbearable. Everyone had assumed so easily that the three of them were not only complicit in his crimes but that they were still enjoying the poisonous fruits of his scams.
Where was Adriano’s very justified anger that she’d braced herself about what a headache she’d brought into his life?
Of course, his reaction was nothing like she’d assumed. And where he should have trusted her, he hadn’t. Frustration, at him and herself, roiled through her. “One glance at that disgusting photo and you should have known that it wasn’t me.”
He jerked back as if she had shouted the words at him instead of whispered them. “Nyra—”
“All I want is to raise my babies in relative peace and security. Please, Adriano, you know now the entire, pathetic tale of my background and that I didn’t cheat on you. Do this small thing for me.”
“No, you’re not listening to me.” His large hands clasped her cheeks, his words slow, but expertly enunciated. “I want you to come back to our home. To our life together. I want to raise…the babies with you. You belong with me.”
Near hysteria came upon Nyra as she registered the urgency, the honesty underlining his words. He thought he could walk in here now that he had proof, and she would simply go back to him?
Beneath the dizziness claiming her, she wished it could be that simple. That her battered, shattered heart would simple scab over and she could go on as if nothing had happened.
But she couldn’t.
“You’re powerful and arrogant and ruthless, Adriano,” she said, laughing at the ridiculousness of his demands, “but even you can’t simply turn back time to six weeks ago. I can’t go back to you. There is no marriage left, if it even was one in the first place.”
“You’re being stubborn. Any man would—”
“But you’re not any man,” she said, poking him in the chest, “as I’ve been reminded again and again. You’re better than most men.”
“Nyra—”
“No.”
“Your twin is in trouble. Worse than you might have imagined all these months.”
“What do you mean?” she said, fisting her fingers in his chest. “Is she hurt?” The very thought twisted her inside out.
He cupped her shoulders, as if he knew that her knees were close to giving out. “I’m sorry, bella . It seems she has a drug addiction problem. All the money you’ve given her, she used it to buy drugs. She’s back to living on the streets.”
The bottom dropped out of Nyra’s world. After everything she had done to give Nadia what she needed, it was all…lies? Tears prickled behind her eyes and fatigue fell over her like a dank, suffocating blanket. “She’s had it so much harder than I did, Adriano. That cousin she was sent to live with…she used to write to me that he was making her life hell. She told me he used to demand that she…work for him if she wanted to live under his roof. Now I realize why she wouldn’t see me. Please…don’t judge her for this.” She didn’t know why she even cared what he thought of her twin but it was important to her.
“Tell me something about you both,” he said, surprising her yet again. “Something from a happy time.”
She blinked, but memories came fast and easy. “As a young girl, I…I preferred to lose myself in drawing and comics. I was quite reserved. I had no friends and never needed any because all I needed was her. She, on the other hand…” A smile curved her mouth, her heart blooming with warmth at the memory. “Nadia was…a bright ray of sunshine, always making others laugh, up for any kind of prank, surrounded by tons of friends. When our birthday would come around, I’d dread it every year because what if she spent it with her friends? What if she found me boring? I mean, it’s natural that we might drift apart. But every year, she’d spend the whole day with me. Making me laugh, sharing her presents with me, buying me some kind of art supplies with her allowance. I think she…loved me just as I was.”
That sense of faith and utter love she had around her twin returned to her with each word she used to describe that moment. Nyra felt a lightness she hadn’t known in…months.
She looked up to find Adriano’s gaze studying her with that intensity that licked at her skin like a live flame. But this time, it was tempered by…curiosity. “Thank you for forcing me to remember. For giving me that piece back.”
“Thank you for helping me see,” he said, with a stiffness she didn’t understand. “You love her.”
A long breath shuddered out of her. “I do. She’s just…unwell and needs help to be that Nadia I knew once.”
“I agree.”
“You do?” Another shock wave came at her as she searched his eyes. There was nothing but honesty there. No disgust or contempt.
He nodded.
Sudden, intense relief seized her. If Adriano was on her side, she could help Nadia through anything. She could get the girl she’d adored back. Her faith in him even as he’d doubted her in the worst way was…pathetic, but it was there. As solid as the ground she stood on.
“Do you know where she is? If I can just talk to her—”
“Once he discovered it wasn’t you in the pic, Bruno went looking for the PI and found her. For now, he’s taking her to the local hospital with him. But this cycle doesn’t have to repeat. I’ll have a team of the best doctors attending to her within the hour. My assistant is on the line with the admin team of one of the best rehab clinics in Europe. She will be taken care of, Nyra, and have the best help to beat this.”
“If?” Nyra said, finally getting a grasp of how her husband operated.
“If you come back with me,” Adriano announced without missing a beat. “You’ve done so much for her, si ? What is this last step?”
“I hate you.” The words slipped past the leash she kept on her emotions.
He smiled, and it was the same one he’d given her that evening. Dark and…sad. “No more than I despise myself, bella ,” he said, reaching for her as she stumbled yet again.
Nyra leaned her head against his chest, both to steady herself, and to stop herself from going any further. Soon, her belly would be big enough to provide her a barrier from clinging to him.
She didn’t believe, for one second, that he was doing this because he wanted her back in his life.
No, as much as she’d taunted him, Adriano was a man who operated on a strict moral code—an exception among powerful men. It was one of the things that she had adored about him from the beginning. Being powerful had never made him awful to the help, or unaware of his privilege.
Guilt was making him enter a situation in which he wouldn’t have the upper hand. But guilt was a temporary emotion. Eventually, it would leave a vacuum behind.
She took in deep breaths, inhaling his scent in the process. And it was the very thing that she needed to avoid that steadied her brain, that gave her fighting ground. “I know how to play this game now that I’ve seen how your mind works.”
“This isn’t a game, bella .”
“No?” If his words pinged over her skin like the openmouthed kisses that he was so good at, Nyra ignored the sensation. “I… How do you know I won’t leave you once my sister is well?” When he’d have provided counterargument, she pressed her finger to his lips. “Yes, it could take months or even years. The one thing I do have is faith in her. However long it takes, she will be free of addiction. And I will leave you.”
“That is a long time to withhold forgiveness, Nyra,” he whispered against her finger.
His Adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow, bringing her attention to the strong column of his throat. How foolish she’d been to tuck her face into his neck and call it her safe place.
There was nothing safe about this man for her ever again.
“Oh, is that what this is all about?” she said, pulling away.
The farther she stood from him, the better her defenses were. Even though the sudden motion only intensified the dizzy feeling. God, her throat was parched and she wanted him gone so that she could lick her wounds in private. “I forgive you, Adriano, for thinking I broke our vows in the worst manner possible. I forgive you for thinking that a woman who traded up from taking off her clothes could have no better morals than to spread her legs for any man. I forgive you for acting like you know me, that you see me and then shattering that belief with one swift action. I forgive you for showing me what a naive fool I was to…” Somehow, she held off the soppy declaration. “There, you are free to move on.”
And then, whether it was because of heat or exhaustion or sheer shock, Nyra felt a darkness claim her. But before she gave in, she thought she heard Adriano whisper his apologies into her skin, his gray-green eyes full of a terror she never wanted to witness ever again.