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My response isn’t necessary. We both know it was. I did it for Nino. I did it because as much as it kills me, I can’t give him the life he deserves. All I ever wanted was to have my son back, but I didn’t realize what it would cost him. Imprisoning him with me isn’t the life I envisioned. I can’t outrun The Society forever, and I can’t force him to live his life in fear to protect me. He was never a threat to IVI. He has a home there. He has a father who loves him, a man who will protect him and provide for him, and even if that man can’t love me, I have to be okay with this decision. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
Alessio pulls himself out of me, and his come drips down my thighs. He turns me in his arms, and I swallow as I look up at this brutal man. He is brutal, but he can be soft too. That’s what confuses me so much. I don’t ever know if he wants to kiss me or kill me.
I point to the envelope taped to the mail holder by the door, making three failed attempts before I get my vocal cords to function.
“For Nino.”
He glances briefly at the letter I wrote for my son, but he doesn’t move to retrieve it.
“That’s it?” His thumb skims over my cheek. “I thought you came to destroy me. Now you’re ready to give up?”
My eyes sting as I choke back the heartache I wish I could just stop feeling. “I can’t…” I take a deep breath, struggling past the pain in my throat. “I can’t kill you and live with myself.”
His eyes soften, and he drags his thumb between my lips, parting them before he leans in to kiss me one last time. I close my eyes, and then I’m left cold when he moves away. I don’t know what to expect, so I try not to expect anything at all.
I can hear him moving around the kitchen, turning on the faucet, and then tossing something into the bin before he zips his pants up. When he returns, he grabs my face, and I think this is it. I guess it doesn’t matter that I have our baby inside of me.
I’m trying not to cry. My throat is already raw from using my voice, but it’s the last thing I’ll ever say, and I have to say it. I force the words from my gritted teeth, pleading with him for this one thing I know he can’t deny me.
“You’re his father. You’re all he knows. Please take care of him.”
“Natalia.” His breath fans across my lips as he leans in. “Go pack your things.”
Alessio carries me onto the jet, my bare feet dangling over his arm as he lowers me into the seat. He didn’t bother to grab my muddy shoes before we left the house, but he did wrap my long coat around me.
He hasn’t said a word since we left, and he doesn’t say anything now as he takes a seat beside me. My mind is reeling, and I think the baby must have changed his mind. He’s going to wait, and then he’ll do it. My palm comes to rest on my belly, and I want to be relieved, but it doesn’t make it any better. I can’t imagine going through this entire pregnancy, seeing our baby, and then dying at the end of it.
I’m struggling to breathe when he rests his hand on my knee and leaves it there. His wedding band gleams beneath the cabin lights, and it only confuses me more. Why is he still wearing it? Why does this simple touch, his skin on my skin, feel so possessive?
He stares out the window, seemingly lost in his thoughts as we take off. I don’t have it in me to use my voice again, and I don’t have my phone on me, so asking questions isn’t on the table. All I can do is sit back and stew in the malignancy of my mind. Once we’re up in the air, Alessio unbuckles both of us and helps me up from my seat. He leads me into the rear cabin, ushering me into the bedroom.
For a second, I’m wondering if this will be where it happens. He didn’t want to leave any evidence behind at the house. That’s why he had me take all our stuff. The Society wouldn’t want my death linked back to them. Alessio is meticulous. He’s probably done this a thousand times. He told me once that he’d never killed a woman. I’m staring at him, wondering if I’ll be the first when he removes my coat and tells me to lay down.
I don’t have anything left to lose, so I do. Alessio kicks off his shoes and walks around the other side, climbing in beside me. I’m lying on my back, but he rolls me onto my side, draping a throw blanket over us before he pulls me against him. His arm wraps around my waist, and he tucks his chin against the top of my head before his palm settles on my baby bump. Warmth moves over my body, and again, I can sense the possession in his touch, but I don’t know what it means.
