Nerves prickle over my nape. Does she like it? I want her to like it. I want her to like just one thing about Nero De Luca, even if it’s something as inconsequential as his home.
I clear my throat, anxious for her reaction, but her profile reveals nothing.
Despair wraps around my lungs. It dawns on me then that I’m about to say goodbye to her for the very last time, and there won’t be any reconciliation. There won’t be any forgiveness. There won’t be anything to ease the heavy weight on my shoulders that threatens to buckle my knees.
Men who know they’re about to die often pray for peace, but I know there’s no prayer that will give me solace. Only this woman might.
She places her delicate hands on the back of the sofa and looks toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. “There were no other doors when we came out of the elevator. Is there no one else on this floor?”
“The penthouse takes up all of it.”
A bitter smile graces her lips. “No wonder you thought I’d be safe here. You’re putting me inside a gilded cage.”
Knowing our time together is down to mere minutes, I don’t want to waste a minute arguing. My gaze sweeps over her,drinking in every detail, committing her to memory. “You need to see a doctor. I’ll get someone to come.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Blake—”
“Please. I’m exhausted. I just want to get some rest.”
She looks rough, but I know she’s not in any immediate danger from her injuries. Rest is probably the best thing for her right now anyway.
“Okay. Tomorrow.”
Tearing my gaze away, I leave her to go change, When I return a few minutes later in a pair of black slacks and a white button-up shirt, she’s still standing by the sofa.
“When will you be back?” she asks.
“I don’t know. I…might not come back at all.”
She stares at me, her gaze burning into me for a fleeting moment before the fire goes right out, and all that’s left are shards of ice. “And what happens if you don’t?”
A crack appears on the surface of my heart. “Someone will stop by and get you all set up. You will never have to worry about money again.”
“The moment I get a key to that door, I will leave.”
More cracks.
“No, you won’t. You know better than that. Remember that even if I’m dead, someone will always be watching you from now on.”
Her jaw clenches. “I hate you. I hope I never see you again, Nero.”
The cracks spread, break, shatter. Can death feel any worse than this? I doubt it.
I turn away from her and place my hand on the doorknob. “I know.”
CHAPTER 3
NERO
An hour later, I pull up to Rafe’s mansion in Westchester. The security guard, a man called Hammer, turns pale when I roll down the window.
“Nero! We thought you were…”
“Dead?” I offer.
He swallows.
