80 | You're not nothing
I stand by the window in my father's study, looking at the backyard, but my mind's on her, on the therapy session she just left, on the pain she's fighting that I can't kill with my hands.
Dr. Navarro sits across the desk, her face calm but sharp, a woman who sees too much but knows to keep her mouth shut.
We're alone, the door locked, because this is a private matter.
I lean forward, my hands braced on the desk, my voice low, unyielding.
"I want you to be her full-time psychologist," I say, my eyes locking on hers, daring her to hesitate. "Until she's healed, until she's not hurting anymore. Whatever it takes, sessions, meds, anything. I'll pay you, whatever you ask, but you're hers, exclusively."
Dr. Navarro doesn't flinch, her nod steady, professional.
"I'd be honored to help Mrs. Costa," she says, her voice warm but measured. "She's strong, Luciano, and she's willing to try. That's a good start. I can work with her as long as she needs, tailor a plan to support her."
I nod, my jaw tight, because it's not just about money, it's about trust, about knowing she's safe, even in her mind.
"We're heading to New York soon," I say, my voice rough, because the thought of taking her there, into the heart of this fight, twists my gut. "I need you to come with us. She'll need you, and I can't... I can't let her face this alone."
She tilts her head, considering, then nods again.
"I'll go," she says. "I can set up a schedule, keep her sessions consistent. New York's no problem, I'll make it work for her, but where will I stay, the city is anexpensive one.
I pull a contract from the drawer and slide it across.
"This binds you," I say, my eyes boring into hers.
"Payment's listed, generous, more than you'll ever need, and you will have your own apartment in the city.
But it says you don't talk about her, not her issues, not her sessions, not a fucking word to anyone.
Ever. Break that, and I don't care who you are, I'll kill you myself. "
Her eyes widen, just a flicker, but she doesn't back down, doesn't tremble.
"I understand," she says, her voice steady, and she takes the pen, signing with a flourish, sealing her silence, her loyalty. "Aurelia's privacy is safe with me. You have my word."
I take the contract, filing it away, and the air shifts, the deal done.
"Good," I say, standing, my blood still humming with the need to act, to protect. "Start tomorrow. I'll arrange travel."
She rises, gathering her bag, and leaves with a nod, the door clicking shut behind her.
I'm alone again, but I need to find her, need to know she's okay, need her to ground me before I lose myself in this hunt for the bastard haunting her.
I leave the study, my boots echoing in the marble halls, and find her in the garden, sitting on a stone bench under an olive tree, her hair catching the sun, her gold ring glinting as she traces it with her finger.
I approach, my heart kicking up, because she's beautiful, and every step toward her feels like coming home.
"Hey," I say and she looks up, her golden eyes warm, a small smile curving her lips that makes me want to kneel, to worship her right here.
"Hey," she says, shifting to make room, and I sit beside her, close enough that our thighs brush, her warmth seeping into me, calming the storm inside.
I take her hand, lacing our fingers, needing the contact, needing her.
"How was it?" I ask, my voice low, careful. "Your first session with Dr. Navarro?"
She tilts her head, her smile fading but not gone, a mix of vulnerability and strength.
"It was good," she says, her voice quiet but sure. "Scary, but good. I like Dr. Navarro... she listens, doesn't push too hard. I... I told her about my mom, my dad, Ciara. It hurt, but it felt... right, you know? Like maybe I can figure this out..."
I squeeze her hand, pride swelling, because she's fighting.
"I'm proud of you," I say, my voice rough, raw with love.
She blushes, her cheeks pink, and looks down, her fingers tightening in mine.
I take a breath, because there's more, a plan I need her to agree to.
"Is it okay if we go to New York?" I ask, my voice steady, though my heart's racing, because I hate taking her into danger, even with me there. "Soon?"
Her brows lift, curiosity sparking, and she turns to me, her eyes searching. "Why?"
"Because I'm going to find the person who's trying to hurt you," I say, my voice low, a vow edged with steel. "The videos, the photos, they're coming from New York, and I need to be there, to end this for you."
She nods, her expression softening.
"Yeah, it's fine," she says, her voice light, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I'll just miss the sun."
I laugh, relief flooding me, and pull her closer, my arm around her shoulders, her body fitting against mine like it was made to.
"Don't worry," I say, my lips brushing her hair, my voice thick with promise. "Once this is over, we can travel, live anywhere you want, Paris, Bali, fucking Mars. Just say the word, and it's yours."
She blushes deeper and we sit in silence, the garden humming around us, her warmth is my anchor.
Though there's a shadow in my mind, a fear I can't shake, something Dr. Navarro hinted at, something I need to know.
My throat tightens, and I swallow hard, my heart pounding as I turn to her, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Aurelia," I say, my grip on her hand gentle but firm, "do you... ever harm yourself? Physically?"
She goes still, her breath catching, and the silence stretches, heavy, painful.
I want to take it back, to shield her, but I need to know, need to protect her from everything, even herself.
Finally, she looks up, her eyes glassy, vulnerable, and nods, a small, reluctant movement.
"Yeah," she whispers, her voice breaking, and my heart cracks with it. "I've... cut myself. My thighs, mostly, when it's too much, when I can't handle it."
"When was the last time?" I ask, my voice soft, because I need to understand, need to know how deep this goes.
She bites her lip before she takes a shaky breath.
"A month ago," she says, her voice raw, trembling.
"Before I knew you loved me, when I thought.
.. I thought you were Ciara's, that I was nothing.
I had a dream about you... us, having sex, and I woke up feeling so guilty, like I shouldn't want you, like I was wrong for it.
It hurt so bad, Luciano, loving you and thinking you'd never love me back.
I cut myself that night, just to... feel something else, to make it quiet. "
Tears burn my eyes, but I blink them back, my hand cupping her face, my thumb brushing her cheek.
"You're not nothing," I say, my voice raw. "I'm so fucking sorry you felt that, but I'm here now, and I love you, always will."
She leans into my touch, her tears falling, and nods, her voice a whisper. "I know. I'm trying, Luciano. I don't want to hurt anymore."
I pull her against me, my arms tight, my lips pressing to her forehead, a vow in every breath.
"You won't," I murmur, my voice thick, desperate. "We'll fight this together. We will go back to New York, you will get proper help, all of it. I've got you, forever."
She buries her face in my chest, and I hold her, the garden fading, the world fading, because it's just us.
I'll go to New York, find the bastard, end this, but here, now, she's my focus. I'll protect her, heal her, love her until the stars burn out or I do.