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“No. We have to go back and help out in the war.”
Ah, right. The war. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.
“Will there be any…guards?” I asked.
“No. The Don wants to keep your location a secret. Not many people know about this location. Even if they do, they wouldn’t possibly think you and Alexander would hide here.”
“So, it’s just going to be us two…here…alone?” A part of me asked with dread, while another asked in anticipation. I wasn't sure exactly what I was anticipating, but seeing the knowing smile on Tony’s face made me feel like he knew more about me than I did.
“Yes.”
Great. Fucking lovely.
Chapter 8
Alexander
It had been three days since we arrived here in Queens. Aryana and I had not spoken to each other aside from greetings when we bumped into each other in the mornings. Tony and Marcello had left immediately after instructing us to be careful and not to go out if we could help it. Whatever we needed would be provided.
I was fixing myself a cup of coffee in the kitchen when Aryana sauntered, looking a little pale. I knew that women were prone to morning sickness during the early stages of pregnancy. I knew it was a normal symptom, but it didn’t make me feel any less concerned.
There was a bit of an awkward tension between us. I knew part of it was due to my outburst three days ago. While what I said was true, it shouldn’t have been phrased in that manner. I had allowed my emotions to get the best of me and, as a result, spat out careless words without thinking.
It wasn’t as if I didn’t want to apologize to her. I did, but she didn’t make it easy for me to catch sight of her for over a minute. On the day we arrived here after Tony and Marcello left, she remained secluded in her chosen room, only coming out to eat whatever she could from the fridge. It was the same for the past few days. I didn’t know what she did to entertain herself, although I saw the lights on in the study several times.
On seeing me, she froze, looking surprised at my presence in the kitchen at this time. I supposed she was right to be surprised. I didn’t usually come here so early, but I had to change my routine to apologize to her.
“Good morning.” I greeted.
She hummed and looked to the side, unsure of what to do. She probably decided between leaving or staying, but I didn’t plan to give her a chance.
“Aryana,” I called out when I saw her lift a foot. She stopped in her tracks and stared at me impassively. “I apologize for my words on the day we arrived. I allowed my emotions to cloud my judgment, and thus, I said a careless statement about you. I shouldn’t have done so. I am sorry.” I apologized with as much sincerity as possible.
Different expressions flashed on her face, but they were too fast for me to pinpoint one. She settled on giving an unimpressed posture.
“I appreciate your apology…despite it coming three days late.” She said with a little huff and walked over to the fridge.
I raised an eyebrow. “I would have apologized to you on that day…had you not stayed in your room this whole time.”
“So what…Should I have come out? To do what exactly? Hang out with you?” She retorted in a sarcastic tone.
I frowned, not understanding the reason for her hostile behavior. “How else would you have wanted me to apologize then? Barge into your room and demand that you listen to me?” I could feel my jaw throb in slight annoyance.
We stared at each other for a while before she inhaled deeply. “Forget it. I accept your apology.” She headed to the fridge and pulled it open.
I was still confused about what had just happened. Her acceptance of my apology didn’t even make me feel better. Was she still angry and didn’t want to forgive me? But then why did she say she accepted my apology if that was the case?
I watched as she grabbed an apple and headed out of the kitchen. I stepped before her, blocking her path and shaking my head. For the past couple of days, in an attempt to avoid me, Aryana had not been eating well, which was unhealthy for both herself and our child.
“You can’t only eat an apple,” I told her. “You need to eat; by that, I mean eating actual food.”
“I’m not hungry.” She muttered, which made me scoff in disbelief.
“Aryana,” I started, calling her name. “You have barely eaten anything for the past few days. You need to eat.”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
