To love the son of the man who destroyed my family. And now, the man my brothers want dead.
His voice is still there, wrapped around me like a chain I can't shake off."I fucking love you, Calli."
God, why would he say those words I've waited to hear, dreamed of hearing, now? Why would he put those words in my head right before I had to walk away?
Because now I have to live with them, knowing he felt the same way.
The elevator jolts to a stop, and I stand too quickly, lightheaded, gripping the handle of my suitcase again like it'll keep me from falling. The doors open to the luxury hotel lobby.
I wipe furiously at my eyes, but my hands won't stop shaking. I put my sunglasses on as the doors open and I step out. I keep my head down, my hair swinging forward to cover my face. The sound of my suitcase wheels clattering over the marble is too loud, and I swear I can feel eyes on me.
My stomach heaves violently. I press a hand over my mouth, willing myself not to vomit. Morning sickness or heartbreak? Both, probably.
The front desk staff smile politely as I pass, but I can't meet their eyes. I'm terrified that if I do, I'll turn and run back upstairs.
Outside, the air is warm, the sun bright enough to make my eyes water even behind my shades. I tell the staff I need a car, keeping my voice as steady as I can.
"Where to, signora?" the one helping me asks.
"Airport, please."
While I wait, my gaze keeps flicking to the lobby entrance, almost against my will. I half expect him to come storming out, to grab my arm, to demand I explain myself.
He doesn't.
The black car pulls up to the curb. I slide into the back seat before I can change my mind.
As we pull away from the hotel, my mind is racing in a million different directions.
How am I supposed to do anything? How can I keep Niko alive when my own brothers have marked him for death? How can I protect our child when its very existence would be seen as the ultimate betrayal?
Rome blurs past my window, and I close my eyes. I imagine the way tonight would have gone if Dimitri hadn't called.
Dinner, the opera, me telling him I love him and about our baby.
Instead, I'm counting the minutes until I'm on a plane, and I don't even know if I'll ever see him alive again.
If my brothers have their way, I won't.
The thought is like ice in my veins. My hand moves to my stomach again, flat and unassuming for now, but no less real. The truth is there, silent and certain.
This baby is coming, no matter what happens, and they must know their father.
The words in my head make my chest tighten until it's hard to breathe.
The driver glances in the mirror. "Signora, are you alright?"
I force my lips into something that might pass as a smile. "I'm fine, grazie."
It's the easiest lie I've ever told.
He nods, buying it, and turns his attention back to the road.
When we arrive at the airport, I step out into the bustle of travelers. It's the usual chaos of flight announcements, departing flights, luggage everywhere, and boarding calls in rapid Italian.
I feel untethered, like I'm sleepwalking. Everything around me is so normal; people going about their lives, unaware that my world just cracked apart. That I just walked out on a man who told me he loves me, when I love him too. That my brothers, the men who have protected me my entire life, are planning to kill the father of my baby.
I find a corner away from the rush and take a seat.
