Page 130 of Stricken

The man gestures for me to get inside. I slide into the limo. The door shuts.

The tint on the windows is thick and it's dark here. I take a second to adjust to the lack of proper light. And when I do, I realize it's an elegant older woman that sits across from me, her hair perfectly coiffed, her brown eyes peeking from under a lace scarf thrown over her head. She wears a tailored black dress, a simple strand of pearls at her throat, and her hands are clasped primly in her lap.

My danger senses spike up immediately. Women are the ones you should fear in this business if you anger them. I don't recollect angering anyone recently except for my Armenian friends and Salvatore Morelli and his goons.

"Do you know who I am, Mr. Solovey?" the woman starts. Her voice is soft, with a faint Italian lilt.

I study her face, searching my memory, but come up empty. I'm not sure I've met her before. "I'm afraid I don't have the pleasure, ma'am."

"I'll forgive you this oversight. I don't get out much these days. Plus we wouldn't be in the same circles. So the fault is mine." A faint smile touches her lips. "You do know my nephew. Quite well, from what I understand."

Realization slams into me. Chiara Morelli. Nico's aunt. The Morelli family matriarch. What the hell is she doing here?

I incline my head, masking my surprise with a veneer of cool politeness. "Mrs. Morelli. I must say this is quite odd. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Chiara's gaze is intent. "Mr. Solovey, I'll come straight to the point. Nico will never leave you. He simply can't. And that's why I'm here to beg you... to leave him instead."

It was as if a sledgehammer had collided with my stomach. Leave Nico? The mere thought is like a knife twisting in my heart even though I know it needs to end someday. I keep my expression carefully neutral, waiting for her to continue.

"Please, Mr. Solovey. Break things off with Nico. Make him believe you no longer want him. Otherwise, what's left of my family will perish." Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "I know you understand what it's like to have a broken family. Isn't that what your father did to you? Don't do the same to us. I'm begging you."

I fight back the surge of old pain and anger at the mention of my father. How dare she bring him into this? She knows nothing about me, about the scars I carry.

But even as I bristle at her presumption, a small part of me understands where she's coming from. The desperation of a woman trying to hold her family together, no matter the cost. Isn't that what I've been doing all these years? Trying to protect the people I love, even if it means sacrificing my own happiness?

But I'm not ready to let go of him just yet.

I need more.

I need reassurance he won't be harmed.

I need better reasons.

"Why should I care about your family when they clearly don't care about Nico?" I ask coldly. "I don't mean any disrespect, Mrs. Morelli but I can take care of him from now on. He doesn't need to be judged and shunned by any of you."

Chiara's face crumples, but she quickly composes herself. "You don't understand," she whispers, her words trembling against each other like branches of the an old, brittle tree in the wind. "Tony has ordered Nico's death if he doesn't leave you."

I stare at her, my mind reeling. Tony would go that far? To kill his own nephew?

"There's another secret I'll tell you," Chiara continues, her eyes haunted. "Tony is battling cancer. No one knows except me and the doctor. He doesn't have much time left. That's why he wants to make sure someone qualified continues to run the family business and in his opinion that's Nico."

I lean back in my seat, stunned. Cancer. The great Tony Morelli, the man who always seemed invincible, is slowly dying. But even that knowledge doesn't soften the blow of her next words.

"But even after Tony is gone, the order still stands." Chiara's slim fingers in her lap are wound so tight now, I'm not sure how she hasn't broken at least one. "If Nico goes back to you, he will be killed."

The world seems to tilt on its axis. I feel like the walls of the limo are closing in on me. Nico's life, forever in danger because of me. How has it even come to this?

I close my eyes, trying to process the gravity of Chiara's revelation. My heart screams at me to fight, to find a way to protect Nico no matter what. But my head knows that as long as I'm in his life, he'll never be safe.

"I understand," I say finally, my voice sounding empty even to my own ears.

"Please, Mr. Solovey. Don't let my nephew perish. I've already lost one son. I don't know where they've taken my youngest and I don't know if I ever see him again. Please."

I can't be inside the limo a second longer. It's suffocating me, sharing that tiny space with this woman, who's an unwilling harbinger of death.

I open the door and step out. The rain immediately soaks through my clothes. But I barely feel it. All I can feel is the agonizing pain in my chest. The Universe is conspiring to tear Nico and me apart no matter what.

As I watch Chiara's limo drive away, I tilt my face up to the cloudy sky, letting the raindrops mask the goddamned tears I refuse to show to Ivan.

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