Chapter Twenty AURORA #2
He laughed then, a wet, broken sound that echoed off the stone like something dying slowly in the dark. “You think he loves you? He left me for dead like I was nothing. For nothing. He’ll do the same to you when you stop being useful.”
The words landed like stones in still water. I felt them sink deep, spreading cold through my veins.
“I know,” I said quietly. “But I still can’t leave him.”
Sergio stared at me for a long time. The flickering bulb buzzed above us like a dying insect. Somewhere far above, the wind howled through the ruined cathedral like a mourning cry. His ruined face twisted, the good side pulling into a sneer while the scarred side remained frozen in perpetual agony.
“Then you’re already dead too,” he rasped. “You just don’t know it yet.”
He turned away slowly, but then he stopped. Turned back. His expression had shifted again, something darker, more calculating.
“I can still get you out,” he whispered, voice dropping to something almost pleading. “There’s a safe house. A number only I know. If you change your mind… if he starts to break you… call it.”
He pressed a crumpled scrap of paper into my palm, his cold fingers lingering too long.
“Take a pregnancy test, Aurora. Soon. Before it’s too late. Because that’s all he wants. To knock you up. To tie you to him forever with a Moretti bastard growing in your belly.”
He laughed again, the sound wet and unhinged, echoing through the crypt like a curse. “And who knows? Maybe he already has. Maybe you’re carrying the devil’s child right now.”
The words hit harder than any bullet. My hand instinctively moved to my stomach. Sergio’s good eye gleamed with mad satisfaction.
“Run while you still can,” he hissed. “Before he fills you up and turns you into something you won’t recognize.”
I stood there alone in the crypt long after Sergio’s footsteps had faded into silence.
The flickering bulb buzzed overhead like a dying insect, casting long, grotesque shadows across the stone walls.
My hand was still clenched around the crumpled scrap of paper he had pressed into my palm.
The numbers on it blurred through my tears.
The guilt was a living thing now, coiled tight in my chest, squeezing until I could barely breathe.
Sergio, Leo’s former right hand, the man who had once stood so steady beside my sister’s husband, reduced to this broken, demented shell.
And it was all Santino’s fault. One bullet.
One moment of spectacle. One decision that had shattered a man beyond repair.
I turned and ran.
The ride back to the estate was a blur of wind and regret.
Every mile brought me closer to Santino, and every mile made the lie I was about to tell feel heavier.
My side burned where the bullet had grazed me, but the real pain was deeper, a cold, aching weight in my chest that no amount of speed could outrun.
When I finally pulled through the gates, the motorcycle’s engine cutting off with a low growl, Santino was already waiting.
He stood at the top of the stone steps like a dark sentinel, arms crossed, jaw tight. He was down the steps and pulling me off the bike before I could even swing my leg over.
“Aurora.” His voice was low, dangerous, barely controlled. “What the fuck happened?”
His hands were on me, checking my side, my arms, my face, searching for injuries with a possessiveness that bordered on violence.
“Nothing,” I said firmly, the lie tasting like ash on my tongue.
He stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I could feel him reading me, peeling back every layer, looking for the truth I was burying deep.
“You’re lying to me,” he said quietly. Not an accusation. A fact.
My breath caught. “I’m not…”
“Don’t.” His voice dropped to something lethal. “Don’t lie to my face, Aurora. Not after everything.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to collapse into his arms and confess everything.
Sergio’s broken face, his warnings, the pregnancy test burning a hole in my mind. But the guilt wouldn’t let me. The debt wouldn’t let me. The fear of what Santino would do to the man who had once been Leo’s right hand wouldn’t let me.
“I can’t,” I whispered, voice breaking. “Not yet.”
Santino’s jaw flexed so hard I heard it crack. For a moment, something raw and wounded flashed across his face. Hurt, beneath the rage. Then it was gone, replaced by cold fury.
He stepped back, releasing me like I had burned him.
“Fine,” he said, voice flat and terrifyingly calm. “Keep your secrets.”
He turned and walked away without another word, disappearing into the house like a shadow. The door slammed behind him with finality.
I stood there on the gravel driveway, blood still seeping from my side, tears sliding silently down my cheeks. The lie sat heavy in my chest, colder than the coastal wind.
A young maid appeared at the side entrance, eyes wide with concern. “Signorina Aurora…”
I cut her off, voice trembling. “Get me a pregnancy test. Discreetly. No one can know. Especially not him.”
The maid’s eyes widened further, but she nodded quickly and disappeared back inside.
I wrapped my arms around myself, staring at the closed door where Santino had vanished.
The devil was furious.
And I was terrified I had just made everything worse.