Chapter 3

After dragging me back from the airport, Nico never brought up Elena again.

That woman who worked the bar at his club seemed to have completely vanished from our world.

We entered a twisted, almost sick honeymoon phase.

Every night, he pinned me to the bed.

He kissed me deep, hot sweat dripping from his chiseled muscles onto my collarbone.

Between heavy breaths, he claimed me over and over, whispering in my ear, "cara, I only have you. Don't leave me."

It made me think, just for a second, that he was really back.

But soon enough, the bubble burst.

Nico started using the race for Underboss as an excuse. He got incredibly busy.

Our schedules perfectly missed each other.

Every morning I woke up, his side of the bed was empty. Just growing stacks of cash on the nightstand and a few half-assed notes.

He was buying my silence with money, forcing me to behave with distance.

Our relationship felt like rusty gears.

Even though this apartment had his traces everywhere, he felt further and further away.

I looked at that cash. I was planning to take it and leave.

Until one morning, after puking my guts out, I stared at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test in the bathroom. The blood drained from my face.

I was pregnant.

And just last week, because of a massive migraine from morning sickness, I blindly took a handful of painkillers Nico had tossed on the coffee table.

The smell of bleach in the hospital made my stomach churn.

The gray-haired doctor pushed his glasses up, frowning heavily. "These are illegal street drugs. You took a massive dose. The risk of neural tube defects is extremely high. You're too early along right now. Come back next month for a detailed screening."

During the six hours I waited for the blood work, I sat on the bench in the hallway.

I dug my nails into the back of my hand, leaving purple bruises.

The sheer terror and guilt almost drowned me.

Why didn't I notice sooner? Why did I take the pills he bought?

When I finally got the "safe for now" results, I leaned against the sterile white wall, gasping for air like I'd just survived a disaster.

For this fragile little life, I actually reconsidered leaving. I wanted to try one more time.

Late at night, the lock clicked.

Nico pushed the door open, reeking of alcohol and blood.

His cheekbone was bruised, his eyebrow split and dripping blood.

"Ran into some rival scum. Got into a fight." He brushed off my questions, stripped off his bloody shirt, and walked into the bathroom.

The shower started running.

Tossed in the corner of the mattress, that black encrypted phone he rarely used lit up.

A text tone.

Like I was possessed, I picked it up.

Sender: Elena.

[Nico, thank you for sticking up for me again today. Without your protection, Misha and I couldn't survive.]

[Misha keeps asking when his Uncle Nico is coming over. Nico, give us a home.]

My heart stopped. It hurt so much that even breathing tasted like blood.

I unlocked that encrypted channel full of street thugs and mobsters and scrolled.

They never cut contact.

They just moved from the sunlight where I could see them into the rotting gutter.

Picture after picture. Him with his arm around Elena's shoulder, comments full of blessings.

Until I hit Christmas Eve.

[Elena: Misha found a ring in the cake you gave us. Is your girlfriend proposing? Let me give it back.]

[Nico: Keep it. Pretend you didn't see it. I don't want to be tied down right now.]

Didn't want to be tied down.

I touched my flat stomach and let out a mocking laugh.

Tears smashed onto the screen, blurring the words.

My last shred of dignity shattered right then and there.

With shaking fingers, I typed a reply from his number:

[You want him so bad? Keep him. He's your problem now.]

The second the text sent, the shower stopped.

A damp shadow loomed over me.

Nico stood there with a towel around his waist, hair dripping.

His eyes locked onto the screen in my hand, the illusion of warmth instantly vanishing.

"Seraphina, what the fuck are you doing with my phone!"