Chapter 25
Aubergine.
We didn’t speak for a time. I stared out the window while Nicola worked on his phone.
The neighborhood we drove through grew more familiar. Wide, tree-lined streets. Perfectly paved roads Massive estates tucked behind wrought-iron gates.
The Moretti estate wasn’t far, now.
“I have to at least see my dad, Nicky,” I whispered. “You can’t keep me locked up in there.”
“You’ll be escorted there and back.” His answer came immediately, like he’d been expecting me to bring it up. “You won’t miss the Sunday dinners or doctor’s appointments.”
I looked down at myself. There was a tear in my dress. My shapewear dug painfully into my ribs.
God... I just wanted a hot shower.
My vision blurred and I bit back my tears.
Not yet, Abby. Breakdown later.
The SUV slowed. Ahead of us, the familiar wrought-iron gates came into view.
The giant ‘M’ gleamed in the morning light. The gates slowly swung open.
Nicola’s hand gently settled over mine.
I stared at it. He came for me. He walked into a warehouse full of armed men, just for me. He risked his life for mine.
Yet I understood there was a fundamental difference between fixing your mistakes and doing something because you loved someone.
And I understood which this was.
I tugged my hand free from his.
Nicola didn’t stop me. He didn’t say a word.
I had forgotten just how massive the Moretti place was. Impeccable landscaping. Manicured grass and gardens. Lots of roses. Old trees. I think Nicola’s great grandfather built it.
There was a roundabout fountain. Towering arched doors.
It looked less like a mansion and more like a castle in Italy.
Then again, considering how heavily guarded the estate was– maybe it actually was one.
The SUV barely stopped in front of the home before Thomas came jogging toward us.
The second I climbed out, he wrapped me in a crushing hug. Air was forced from my lungs.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into my hair. “So fucking sorry. I didn’t know, Abby. If Lorenzo hurt you–”
“He didn’t.” Thomas finally set me back on my feet and I smiled up at him. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known.”
“Well… I don’t think Nicky sees it that way.” Thomas perked up. “You’re gonna be living here, now?”
He glanced toward Nicola as he circled the SUV. “You guys are back together?”
I didn’t bother checking Nicola’s reaction. “We were never together,” I said, wondering if I was hiding my bitterness at all. “Just friends.”
I patted Thomas’s shoulder. “Help me inside? My feet are fucking killing me.”
Thomas immediately wrapped an arm around my waist. Together we hobbled toward the front doors like two uncoordinated drunks.
“I don’t mean carry me,” I laughed, and elbowed him. “I just need help balancing.”
“I am helping!”
“You’re squeezing the air out of me!” The second we stepped onto the marble floor, I kicked my heels off. “Oh, thank God.”
Thomas laughed. “Follow me, come pick a guest room to stay in and we'll get you set up."
“Put her in my room.”
Both of us froze halfway up the stairs. I leaned over the railing, peering down at Nicola standing in the foyer. “What?”
He stared up at me. “It sits between Michael’s room and Thomas’s. It’s the safest room in the house. We can keep a better eye on you.”
As if sensing my discomfort, he added, “I’ll sleep somewhere else.”
With his phone in hand, he walked away. I listened to his footsteps echoing through the mansion.
“Yeah...” Thomas muttered. “He’s really not fun to live with. It’s like he’s been trying to become my dad and my brother at the same time. It gets exhausting.”
“He’s just trying to protect you.” I looked down the empty hallway Nicola had disappeared into. He was starting a war to protect his brother. I wonder if Thomas realized that.
Thomas held up both hands. “I’m grateful. I know. I just...” He shrugged. “I hoped you’d soften him up a little. Make him tolerable.”
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “I don’t think anyone can do that. Except Nicola.”
Nicola’s room was bigger than I remembered. More sophisticated.
The movie posters were gone. His old desk disappeared.
Then I remembered– he probably worked from his father’s old study now. There was still a small balcony just off the bedroom.
Two patio chairs. A little table between them.
We spent countless evenings out there. Talking. Laughing. Arguing about nothing.
He smoked out there often, I even remembered the day when I tried to take a cigarette. He ripped it out of my hands and told me I wasn’t allowed to. I kept lighting them and we tried to find out how many we could fit in his mouth at once.
I think he almost passed out and then we were laughing so hard we were both crying.
A smile tugged at my lips before I caught it.
Such a stupid little memory. But a precious one.
I cleared my throat and spun around. The room was immaculate. The bed was neatly made.
Everything had a place. Everything except one small wooden box resting on the nightstand.
Curiosity got the better of me as I crossed over and opened it.
His rings. Countless ones, all piled in there. I picked one up, turning it slowly between my fingers.
Heavy, cool. Familiar. My thumb traced the smooth silver edge. One of his rings still sat inside my work bag.
I’d caught myself reaching for it more than once this past week. I would rub over the metal whenever my thoughts wandered.
It had become comforting. Just because it was him. I set the ring carefully back into its place and closed the lid.
My eyes wandered toward the balcony again.
I spent years imagining what it’d be like to finally end up in Nicola’s bed. It turned out the dream was not as romantic as the reality.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
“Come in.”
The door opened a moment later. A middle-aged man with cropped black hair stepped inside carrying a square medical bag. He wore blue scrubs with a stethoscope hanging around his neck.
“Hi, Aubergine.” He smiled warmly. “I’m Dr. Lee. Nicola asked me to give you a quick checkup, if that’s alright.”
My shoulders sagged. “Sure.”
“Great. I’m the family physician. I’ve been looking after the Morettis for a while now. A decade? Maybe longer. Honestly, Thomas has broken and sprained enough body parts for a lifetime."
I laughed. “A shame he didn’t grow out of that.”
He set his bag down. “I’ll just go wash my hands first. I’ll just be checking your vitals and making sure you’re alright. Nothing invasive.”
Invasive? That was a weird word to use.
“Sound okay?”
“Yeah.”
He disappeared into the attached bathroom. When he returned, he was pulling on a fresh pair of blue gloves.
“So...” He sat beside me, and then pulled the stethoscope over his ears. “You’re friends with the family?”
“Sort of.”
He smiled like he’d heard that answer before.
The examination was surprisingly gentle. He listened to my heart, then my my lungs. He took my blood pressure. Checked the marks on my wrists.
By the time he finished, his expression had grown thoughtful. “Everything looks good.”
He offered me a reassuring smile. “You seem physically okay. But…”
He looked at me carefully. “You don’t seem okay.”
“I’m fine,” I said automatically.
His eyes softened. “I know we’re strangers, but, you’ve been through a serious trauma, Aubergine. You don't need to hold back.”
Doctor Lee waited patiently. I sighed. “Okay. No. I’m not fine.”
“Did someone hurt you? If anyone touched you...” He asked quietly. “You can tell me. Patient confidentiality protects you.”
I glanced toward the closed bedroom door. “Even with the Don?”
He smiled. ”Especially with the Don.”
I let out a slow breath.
“No.” I shook my head. “It was nothing like that. But, um… could you prescribe something to help me sleep? Just for a few nights?”
His eyebrows lifted. “How long have you been having trouble sleeping?”
“About a week.” My laugh sounded tired. “It’s been a rough handful of days. The kidnapping was just like a little cherry on top, honestly.”
Understanding settled across his face. “Well, I can absolutely do that. I’ll write the prescription and have it delivered before dinner. Just be aware it's a mild sedative. You can't drink alcohol or drive these next handful of days."
"Okay." Relief loosened something inside me. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
He gave my shoulder one gentle pat before packing away his equipment. “I’ll check in again tomorrow. I’ll leave you to rest.”
The door clicked softly shut behind him. I had barely taken a breath before another knock came at the door.
It opened and Nicola’s head poked through. God, he looked so tired. Worn down. It made my heart ache.
“Are you settling in alright?” he asked.
I looked around the room and held my hands up. “That would imply I have something to settle in with.”
He nodded once. “That's one of the reasons I came to see you. Write down whatever you need. I’ll have Gio pick it up from your apartment. Your clothes and toiletries.”
“Oh.” I folded my arms. "Some mobsters are going to dig through my underwear drawer. Fantastic. They’re probably going to find my sex toys while they’re at it.”
Nicola struggled not to smile and failed. “Well, it didn’t take me very long.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I was curious!” He cried out.
“Oh, my God.”
“While we’re on the topic, I gotta know. The neon blue one. Do you have an alien fetish or something?”
The instinct to smile was strong. It was so easy to get pulled into it again. The ribbing, the teasing.
“I’m really not in the mood, Nicky.”
The smile immediately faded from his face. A long silence settled between us. He sat at the very edge of the bed, keeping a respectable distance.
“I’m just...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Trying to fix this.”
I closed my eyes, ignoring the pang of guilt. “We’re friends. You said so yourself. And we’ll always be friends."
I looked down at my dress. “But right now, I’d really just like a shower and get out of this stupid fucking dress.”
I stood and Nicola and did at the same time, partly blocking my path.
“I saw you on the security cameras when you and Thomas came in.” His eyes searched mine. “You didn’t look stupid.”
“You looked...” He hesitated, sighed. “Fucking beautiful.”
Those words were so difficult for him to get out. I didn’t know whether I found his struggles tiresome or endearing anymore.
His jaw tightened. “Every guy in that club kept looking at you. One of them put his hands on you. I told you—”
“You pushed me away.” I cut him off. “For a week.”
I gestured vaguely toward myself. “And now you think telling me a bunch of drunk twenty-year-olds thought I was hot is supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.” He answered immediately.
“Then why tell me?”
He looked away. For a second, Nicola looked completely lost.
“Do you want the truth, Abby? I wanted to be in your apartment. With you.” His eyes drifted toward the floor. “Every fucking day."
He paused and shook his head, struggling to get his words out. “I couldn’t think of anything else.”
It was bizarre. An hour ago, Nicola went flawlessly toe-to-toe with an enigmatic mafia don and didn’t take a single misstep. He was eloquent, calm.
Right now? He sounded like a caveman trying to learn a new language.
“What are you talking about?”
“When I was at the apartment--” He searched for the words again. “Everything else disappeared. My work. The Family. My responsibilities. I stopped thinking about all of it.”
“And that's dangerous. It scared me.” Nicola looked away again. “So I left.”
We stared at each other in silence. I heard the familiar chime of a grandfather clock downstairs.
“That might actually be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
He gave one small nod. “I know.”
That small admission surprised me more than anything, made my whole body soften up.
“It speaks volumes about the faith you have in your own organization, if spending an hour with me makes your empire collapse.” I crossed my arms. “Maybe your empire wasn’t all that stable.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, but not in amusement. Tired resignation crossed his features. “That may be. I just... I didn’t know what else to do. So I focused on what I did know.”
I believed him. And that didn’t make it okay. It just… made it sad. Made me sad.
“I don’t like being expendable, Nicola.”
“You weren’t.” He countered instantly. “You never were.”
I huffed through my nostrils. “You made me feel like I was.”
His shoulders sagged. There wasn’t an argument for that. He knew it.
“Go take your shower.” His voice was quiet. “I’ll find you something to wear til the guys bring your stuff."
He gestured toward the hallway. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. This house is yours.”
I walked past him and straight to his bathroom.
His footsteps disappeared, then I quietly closed the door. I settled onto the lip of the marble tub and pressed my face into my palms.
I didn’t know if I wanted to scream or tell him to come back.