Page 49 of Bianchi

Did she leave to protect me? I know in some small way she must have because of the accident, but she could have come back. Is her leaving the reason my parents got divorced? My mom told me they grew apart, but was that just her trying to shield me? I wish I had someone to turn to for answers. Somebody who knew her, that she confided in. But the truth of the matter is, they all disappeared from my life the day she died.

My mind races with all the questions I don’t know I’ll ever get answers to.

Rolling to face Romeo again, I rest my head on my hands before pulling one out and reaching forward to brush away a curl that hangs over his forehead. A large, warm hand darts up and grabs my wrist before I can reach my destination. Stormy cobalt-blue eyes pop open and the air in my lungs vanishes.

We stare at each other, his eyes a mask, as usual. For a moment in the shower yesterday, I thought he cared. I thought that the feelings that have been weaving their way into my heart since he took me were reciprocated but whatever I thought I saw was quickly replaced with a cold hardness.

“Did you know?” The question tumbles from my mouth, and I bite my lip, wishing I could take it back. What difference does it make if he did know my mom used to work here or that he knew me?

For a moment, his brows tug together before smoothing out. He’s still holding onto my wrist and uses it to tug me into his arms and under his body in one swift movement. I don’t have a chance to react or protest. When he’s situated between my legs, he releases his hold on me, resting his elbows on either side of me.

His voice is low and sends a frisson of need racing down my spine before my mind can register his words. “Yes, and no. There have been things that felt familiar about you, but it wasn’t until the other day, when Massimo told me, that I knew for certain.”

I try to fight him, his words somehow feeling like a betrayal. My palms rest against his bare, solid chest, pushing at him. He doesn't budge; instead, he smooths a hand over my hair.

Hurt fills my voice as I beg, “Let me go.”

“I can’t do that, Aurora.”

He can’t or won’t? My head twists to the side, forcing his hand away, and I suck in a lungful of air, blowing it out with a grunt.

Gripping my chin almost painfully, he forces my face back to him. “It doesn’t matter if I knew, when I knew, or even that your mother worked for my family.”

My tone is sharp and my words loud when I reply, “It does.” Still, I try to fight him, turning more and more desperate with each push on his chest. “To me, it matters. That she worked for you and that she was involved in this world.”

“Why?”

The simple word holds so much confusion, but doesn’t stop my frustration from bubbling beneath the surface. How can he not understand? She was all I had. When she died, it broke me. And now I find out that she was involved with these people? That she was tangled up in the twisted darkness of their lives. Does he expect me to just accept that and not question everything I thought I knew to be true?

A certainty fills me, swirling with a venom that’s been festering inside for years. It’s been there ever since my father came clean, rooting itself in the periphery of my consciousness. “Because someone in your world,” I spit the words out, my eyes growing hot, “took her from me.”

I’ve always known that she would never kill herself. I was a kid and accepted what I’d been told, but her death has never made sense. There were never any signs, and we were so close that I would have seen them. I know I would have.

Romeo’s eyes search mine, for what, I’m not sure. After what feels like an eternity, he rolls off me, his hand squeezing my hip. “I believe you, Aurora. And I meant what I said yesterday. I’m going to find out what happened to her but it’s going to take some time.”

I don’t know if I should believe him, but I want to. After all, if anyone can figure this out and give me the truth, it’s going to be Romeo. Nodding, I pull out of his grip and move to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I hope you meant what you said too, Aurora. This is a two-way street. If you want answers, you have to keep your end of the bargain.” To want to live.

My body stiffens. I’m not sure I can do that. Especially if I have to go through the pain again that I’ve had to live with since her death.

Chapter 29

Aurora

It’s been two weeks since Romeo told me he would find out what happened to my mom. Each day has been more tortuous than the last.

It’s taken everything in me to not ask him for an update whenever I see him. The rational side of me knows that when he has news, he’ll tell me, but the desperate side of me… well, I’ve voiced my question a million times in my mind.

To keep myself busy, I’ve immersed myself in sketching, spending hour upon hour in the garden with my pad from sunrise to sunset. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

Tonight, after sitting across from him for an entire hour as I forced myself to eat, I excused myself and escaped to our room to run myself a bath. Haven handed me a magazine with sympathy shining in her eyes and I’ve spent an hour in the tub, hoping it will distract me. But all I’ve come away with is wrinkled skin and a rundown on New York’s most eligible bachelors, which Massimo is apparently one of.

Romeo strides into the room as I’m walking out of the bathroom, rubbing lavender-scented lotion into my hands. He shrugs out of his jacket, throwing it on the end of the bed before he starts to unbutton his shirt. I watch him from my spot in the doorway, leaning against the frame. When he turns to face me, his eyes flit down my body, and a welcome heat blooms in my core. My eyes drop to the ink swirling on his chest as he pulls the fabric apart. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of staring at him. The thought surprises me and I push it down, forcing my attention away from his body and to my hands.

“Massimo reached out to a contact at the police station. They pulled the file on your mother’s death and spoke to the detective in charge.”

Ignoring the fluttering in my stomach, I move toward him, trying in vain to keep the eagerness from my tone. “And?”

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