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“It means, regardless of how we got here, you’re my wife now.” Nero meets my gaze. “And those vows we took? I’m going to abide by them. And I hope you will, too.”
Love. Honor. Obey.
The weight of those words—and this ring—hits me all at once.
They’re real to him.
Thisis real. Beneath all the lies, and vengeance, and half-truths. Behind the fighting, and desperate passion, we somehow crossed a line to something true.
The bond between us never died. And now he’s offering me a chance to love him all over again.
Forever.
“I… I…” I stammer, overwhelmed. “I… Will be right back.”
I bolt from my chair, fleeing straight for the bathroom. If I sit there for another second, I’m afraid I’ll get lost in his eyes forever and start saying things I regret.
I can’t do that, no matter how tempting.
Inside the tiled refuge of the restroom, I go straight for the sink, bracing myself with my palms flat on the porcelain. Looking in the mirror, I stare into my own eyes, and I can see the panic there. Nero is saying all the right things, but I already have one foot out the door. I just met with a lawyer today.
But I can’t lie to myself. I want to be with him. I want him to want me.
I just don’t know if I can trust this sudden sincerity.
I feel like my heart and my mind are at war, and it’s tearing me apart. The worst thing is that I just want to go back out there and tell Nero that I’m crazy about him. It could be so perfect.
Or he could break my heart into a million pieces.
I run the cold faucet and let the water flow over my wrists, trying to collect myself. I close my eyes and contemplate what I’ll say when I get back to the table.
What can I say?
‘I want to love you again, I think my heart already does, but there’s so much history, I don’t know how we could ever trust each other—and, oh yeah, your criminal empire could come crumbling down at any moment, leaving the both of us in jail.’?
It doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.
I’m so lost in thought that I barely even glance over when I hear the door of the bathroom open behind me. I register a tall, dark-haired woman, dressed in a skintight dress. She moves towards the sink, so I step aside, assuming she’s here to touch up her makeup.
Instead, she grips my arm, grabs a handful of my hair, and smashes my face forwards into the mirror.
Pain bursts along my cheekbone where it makes impact with the glass, and I let out a strangled scream of pain. What the fuck? Struggling to recover, I try to pull away, but she’s too strong and she has too much leverage in this position, her forearm pressing into the center of my back as she leans close.
“Careful, Mrs. Barretti,” the woman says, in a thick Russian accent. “You could hurt yourself like this.”
“What… What do you want?” I ask, my throat closing up in fear.
“Consider this a friendly warning.” She twists my arm tighter, and I yelp in pain. “Your husband’s power is slipping. Who knows what accidents you may face next?”
Suddenly, the door swings open, and another patron walks in. “What on earth…?” she blurts in surprise.
The woman releases me so quickly, I stumble, and then she’s gone, disappearing out the room and down the hallway towards the kitchens.
“My word,” my rescuer gasps. “Honey, are you OK?”
I collapse back against the wall, trying to catch my breath. “I… I don’t know.”
My fingers come up to touch my cheekbone, and I flinch from the pain. Glancing in the mirror, I can see blood, and a bruise already forming.
But worse still are my attacker’s words, still echoing in my head.
“Your husband’s power is slipping.”
I shake, my heart still pounding. This was what I was afraid of—that being linked to Nero would make me a target. But I was only thinking about the Feds, not criminal elements.
Who was she? What does she know?
And what happens now I have a target on my back?
