Chapter Thirty-Eight
Mia was grateful she didn’t have to explain to any of them why she needed to leave. Mikey led Tony out, whispering quietly to him. Flory called her son, despite Melvin’s assurance that he would bring her home first. She embraced Mia tightly, kissing her cheek softly.
“I love you, Mia,” Flory said, a tear glistening in her eye. “Don’t give up on that boy.” Mia nodded, her heart shattering slowly with each movement.
The drive to the apartment felt agonizingly slow. Mia felt as if she were trapped in a time loop, each minute echoing the last. All she could hear were his words—the heartbreak too raw, the "I'm sorry" sounding final, like a goodbye. Melvin held her hand as he drove, the familiar gesture fracturing her further. She had no more tears left; her body felt empty. Mikey and Matty exchanged worried glances, deep concern etched on their faces. But all Mia could see was Aurelio’s face, the fear in his eyes when they locked gazes, and the way he had kissed her. It was too much. She felt like a zombie as she walked to the loft, shedding her dress for one of his shirts, then curling up in bed.
Hours later, Melvin checked on her. Mia couldn’t articulate why it felt like Aurelio was gone for good.
“Bug,” Melvin said softly, sitting on the edge of her bed and resting a hand on her lower leg. “He comes back, every time.” She wanted to believe him, to agree, but as she opened her mouth to argue, a knock on the door interrupted her. Her heart raced in her throat as she shot out of bed and flung open the sliding door, revealing Oliver standing there.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, his snarky voice piercing her already wounded heart. “I brought you these.” He thrust a dozen roses toward her. Mia glared at the flowers, her fist balling in anger. She smacked the bouquet from his hands, and Oliver let them fall to the ground.
“Why the fuck,” she yelled, her voice thick with fury, “would I ever take flowers from you?”
“I know you like flowers, especially from criminals.”
“Fuck you, Oliver. Fuck you so much.”
“Would you like to now that your boy toy is out of the picture?” he leaned in, a taunting grin on his face.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Rage-filled calm washed over her.
“Oh, I know all about Aurelio Valen. That fucker stole my Shelby Mustang,” Oliver replied, standing back up, one arm resting casually on the door frame. “But I got it back now.” He held up a set of familiar keys, dangling them before her.
“What?” Mia exclaimed, picturing her beloved car. “She is not yours!” she reached out, trying to snatch the keys, playing into Olivers sick game. He snarled at her as he pulled them back.
“Yes, she is!” Oliver shouted, his face turning red, spit flying as he spoke. “Any idiot can hotwire a car.” He leaned closer again.
“But having these,” he jingled the keys next to her ear. “Hand delivered to me while your pathetic boytoy had to sit back and watch.” Oliver closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “I have never been harder in my life.” He let out a howl of laughter.
“Your boyfriend isn’t the only one working for the Boss.” Oliver stepped back, flexing his arms as he watched Mia closely. “I knew the Boss long before Aurelio came into the picture.”
Mia couldn’t hold back. She launched her fist, a satisfying crack echoing as her knuckles connected with his nose.
“Fuck you, Oliver!” she screamed, feeling hands grab her and pull her back.
“If you want to date a criminal, I’m right here, baby.” Oliver smirked, his nose bleeding, one hand outstretched, tapping his chest with his fingers. “I’m your man. I’ve been working for the Boss long before he owned Aurelio!” Oliver laughed again, blood dripping from between his fingers. “Stealing cars is the only thing that asshole is good for!” Oliver winced, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, his voice nasally. “I have been at his side, watching and reporting this whole time. If this detective thing doesn’t pan out, maybe I can make the switch for good!”
Mia spit at him, a full, disgusting glob that landed squarely on his face, a smile breaking through her fury. Melvin laughed. Oliver let lose a growl, his eyes wild.
“What’s so fucking funny, you losers?” Oliver yelled, wiping his face, blood splattering onto the floor, adding to the growing mess. Melvin only laughed harder.
“You, you fucking moron,” he finally said, pointing beside him. Matty stood there, phone out, recording the entire scene. Oliver's expression fell. He looked back and forth, fear growing in his eyes as the boys stepped back, pulling Mia with them into the loft.
“Simple promises, man,” Melvin said, slamming the door shut.