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.
