Chapter Seven SANTINO #3
"You murdered someone today." Her shoulders hitched. “You act like it’s just another day.”
I froze. The room changed. The air felt heavier. The storm outside felt closer. Aurora's eyes glistened. Not with fear. Not with anger. Pain. Raw pain. The kind that couldn't be hidden.
"You murdered Sergio in cold blood,” she added. “He was… Leo’s best friend. He wasn’t a bad person.”
I stared at her. She stared back. Waiting. Demanding. Wanting me to defend it. Justify it. Explain it. I couldn't. Because there wasn't a defense. There wasn't an explanation. Only the truth.
"I’m aware,” I said. “But if I didn’t, I would never have you. I did it for you. For us."
The words fell heavily between us. Aurora looked away first. Something in her face cracked.
"There is no us,” she insisted. “I hate you.”
There it was again. The phrase she'd repeated all day. I should've been used to it by now. Instead it landed differently every single time. Because some stupid part of me kept hoping she'd stop saying it.
I laughed softly. Despite everything. Despite the grief. The war. The disaster. Despite the fact that she looked seconds away from throwing something at my head. Aurora scowled.
"What's funny?" she demanded.
"You."
Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"
"You've been threatening me for twelve straight hours,” I reminded her.
"You kidnapped me,” she reminded me. "You tied me to a motorcycle. You shot my fiancé."
Silence. The smile disappeared. Aurora's breathing hitched. I understood. Not because she loved Sergio. She hadn't. We both knew that. But because she was grieving the life she'd expected.
The future she'd planned. The illusion of control. And I'd taken all of it. My gaze softened.
“I’m sorry for what happened today,” I said, gentler this time. “I’m sorry it hurts right now.”
“No, you’re not,” she muttered. The fight left her voice. Just for a second. Long enough for honesty to slip through. "My family probably thinks I'm dead."
The words shattered something inside me. Because for the first time all night, she sounded scared. Not angry. I moved closer. She moved back.
"Leo knows you're alive,” I said.
Her head snapped up. "What?"
"He called,” I grunted. “Didn’t give me much time to talk. I assume he knows I wouldn’t kill a woman.”
She blinked. Once. Twice. Disbelief flooded her face.
"Did you speak to Chiara?" she asked, her voice shaky. “Did she ask about me?”
“No, only her husband,” I added. “Why does your sister’s opinion matter so much to you?”
“Because I’m not a heartless monster like you,” she bit out.
I shrugged. “Seems to me like my current pet is in pretty well-kept surroundings.”
Once Aurora realized I meant her, her tiny hands formed fists.
“Plus, troublemaker,” I added. "I know what siblings are like. Because someone killed my brother. My twin. Do you know who that man was?"
The color drained from her face before I told her. “Leo?”
“Exactly,” I hissed. “So you’ll excuse me if I don’t give a fuck about the Serpent crying his eyes out over a man who wasn’t even family. A man he tried to force on my woman. You expect me to give a damn about Sergio’s life? Try not gruesomely murdering my twin brother.”
Aurora stared. Then unexpectedly barked out a laugh. A short one. Barely there. But real. The sound hit me like a bullet. Because it was the first genuine laugh I'd heard from her since the cathedral. Aurora realized she'd laughed. And looked horrified.
Good. Right then, I was enjoying her suffering.
"What exactly did you tell Leo?" she asked. “Did you negotiate a deal?”
"Mostly that I wasn't giving you back." I shrugged. “Then he hung up on me.”
The laugh disappeared, replaced by annoyance. That was more familiar. Aurora grabbed the nearest cushion. I sighed.
"Don't."
She threw it anyway. I let it hit me directly in the face, then caught it. Slowly. Then looked at her. Aurora looked incredibly pleased with herself.
The weight in my chest eased. Just slightly. Enough to breathe. Enough to remember what Angelo had said all those years ago. You'll meet a woman. She'll ruin your life.
The bastard had been right. Standing in a glass prison overlooking a storm-dark ocean while a kidnapped bride threatened me with decorative pillows… I found myself wishing he were there to see it.
Aurora looked away. Toward the ocean. Toward the darkness. Toward home. I watched her swallow. Watched her shoulders tighten. Watched her pretend she wasn't scared. The same way I pretended half the city wasn't currently preparing for war.
"Do you want to call Chiara?" I suggested. “I can let you make that call.”
Everything stopped. Even the ocean seemed quieter. Aurora turned slowly. Like she wasn't sure she'd heard me correctly. "What?"
"Do you want to call your sister?" The suspicion arrived. Fast. Sharp. Expected. "Because contrary to popular belief, I don't actually enjoy making women cry."
Her eyes narrowed. "I don’t trust you, Devil.”
The words landed harder than they should have. Aurora folded her arms. Rain hammered against the glass roof overhead. Lightning flashed somewhere over the ocean. For a second neither of us spoke. Then she shook her head.
"You can call me that, if it’s easier for you," I smirked. "You've called me Devil in your naughty little thoughts for a week, after all."
"You don’t deserve a name,” she hissed, and I fought myself to ignore her not dying she’d had fantasies about me. “You keep doing that thing. The thing where you act like we're discussing weather instead of the fact you murdered a man and kidnapped me."
I considered it. Fair. "That's because discussing weather is significantly more pleasant."
Aurora looked ready to commit homicide. Good. That was an improvement over crying. The smile faded. I studied her for a moment. Then finally said, "I’m a Moretti, like Leo. Our fathers were brothers.”
"Then how come I’ve never heard about you?" she hissed.
"A surprisingly weak argument,” I said. “I’ll indulge you. Let’s just say my cousin Leo doesn’t like me very much, even though we’re family.”
The silence that followed was magnificent. Pure horror. Pure disbelief. Pure Aurora. Then, she laughed. Not because anything was funny. The kind of laugh people made when reality became too ridiculous to survive.
"No."
"Again, weak argument,” I said.
"You kidnapped your cousin's sister-in-law,” she hissed.
"When you phrase it like that, it sounds a bit worse,” I shrugged.
"THERE IS NO OTHER WAY TO PHRASE IT,” she screamed. She really was loud for such a small thing.
Aurora started pacing. Fast. Chaotic. Wild. Like every thought in her head was attempting to escape simultaneously. I tilted my head as soon as she grabbed another pillow, and it flew.
I caught it. She grabbed another one. Jesus Christ. The woman was arming herself.
"Aurora." The second pillow hit me directly in the chest. "That one was unnecessary."
Third pillow. Face. Direct hit. I deserved that one. Probably. Aurora looked extremely pleased with herself. The tiny psycho. Eventually she ran out of ammunition. Which was unfortunate. I was enjoying myself.
She folded her arms. Still glaring. Still furious.
Still breathtaking. The storm outside intensified.
Rain streamed down the glass walls. Thunder rolled across the cliffs.
And slowly the fight left her face. Not all of it.
Just enough. Enough for worry to slip through.
Enough for fear. Enough for me to see the eighteen-year-old underneath all that fire.
I reached into my pocket. Aurora tensed. "What are you doing?"
"Something nice,” I said.
Her suspicion was immediate. "That's the scariest thing you've said all day."
I laughed. Then held up a phone. Aurora stared. "What is that?"
"A phone,” I replied.
"I know it's a phone,” she hissed.
"Good. We're making progress."
"Santino,” she said with a hint of pleading. It nearly undid my resolve to hear her break and use my name. I held out the phone instead. “Can I use it?”
"Call your sister." I pushed the phone into her hands. “After that, it’s all yours.”
Everything stopped. The rain. The storm. The sarcasm. Aurora just stared. At the phone. At me. Back at the phone. Like she thought it might explode.
"You're serious."
"Unfortunately, I have a soft spot for you,” I muttered.
"Why?"
I shrugged. "Because I know you don’t want to be a captive, and I want you to have freedom. I won’t even touch you, if you don’t want me to. I just can’t let you leave. And I couldn’t let you marry that man.”
A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. Tiny. Quick. Gone. But I saw it. Aurora realized I saw it. And looked horrified.
"I know you’re not completely indifferent to me,” I went on.
She narrowed her eyes. "That’s right. Remember that I still hate you."
Reality was returning. Family. Home. Chiara. Aurora stared at the phone again. This time she looked terrified. Not of me. Of what waited on the other side.
Her voice dropped. Small enough that most people would've missed it. "What if she's angry?"
The question surprised me. Because for one second she didn't sound like Aurora Ventura. She sounded eighteen. Scared. Lost. Human. I stepped closer. Not enough to trap her. Just enough.
"Troublemaker." Her eyes lifted. "If Chiara Ventura is angry tonight... It sure as fuck isn't with you."