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“Do you still love him, Emelia?” His words are like a gunshot to the heart.
“What? Nico, you are acting insane. Where are we going, and why do you suddenly care about Damian so much?”
Shit. Did Damian show up? Did he do something stupid and cross Nico, and now he’s going to kill him? Fuck.
My palms start to sweat, and my spine turns painfully cold.“Nico. Please.”
“Do. You. Still. Love. Him?”
My eyes water, and Nico continues to accelerate and weave in and out of traffic erratically.
“It doesn’t—”
“Do you still love him, Emelia!” he yells, and he slams his hand down on the steering wheel, making the answer fall from me like word vomit.
“Yes, I do! He was the only man who truly loved me and protected me.” It comes out fast, and I wish I could take it back, but it's too late. I look up at Nico as one tear slowly falls, and his grin is not charming.
It’s wicked.
“Nico? Is he here? Did he come here and do something?”
“He is the only man who has ever protected you?” A gust of air mockingly releases from his flared nostrils.
“Yes. He was there to comfort me after my father would hurt me, and he loved me.”
“Really? Did he ever hit your dad back or get you out?” he asks.
“No,” I admit, dropping my head.
“But I did. I got you out. And I almost killed your father. Stopped only because you asked. But that's the man you still love and defend? So am I just nothing to you?”
Where is this coming from?
“Are you asking me if I love you?” I blurt out.
“No, Emelia. I don’t love you, and you don’t love me, but you seem to think there is a man still superior to your husband out there and that is something I don’t like.”
The way he said he doesn’t love me shouldn't have hurt, but it did. I don't expect him to. In fact, I never even thought he would one day, but for some reason, it stung.
“I didn't say he was superior.”
“Oh, but you did, principessa, just in lesser words, and I don’t like it,” he growls, looking over at me.
I swallow thickly.“And you’ve never loved anyone or wished I was someone else? There was never another woman you wish you would have married instead of me?” I flip the tables. Nico has the nerve to ridicule me over something I can’t help. Especially when it is apparent it isn't really about love. It’s about fucking power.
“No. I fucked women, and that’s it. If I didn't want to ruin your father, you wouldn't be sitting here, and you would be off with the traitor,” he hisses.
“The traitor?”
“Yes. Your perfect little lover, Emelia.” We exit the freeway, and the road we are on is bleak. There are no houses, just a couple of abandoned buildings.
“You’re scaring me, and I want to go home. I think you’ve gone mad and need to take it out on someone else.”
He laughs as he pulls up to what looks like a rusted, empty, broken-down warehouse. I know the type well. Who doesn't in the mafia?
“Oh, I am. You're going to love this. You’re going to watch it, and I think you just might enjoy it.”
My mouth is left slightly ajar and my brows a confused mess as he leaves the car and makes his way around to me. Opening my door, he leans in and unbuckles me before standing back up outside.
