Page 88 of Vengeful Vows
“Sorry, Bella. That’s not negotiable. I give you everything,everything.A home. A credit card. A driver. I allow you to work, have friends.”
He thinks he’s being generous by not locking me inside his condo and endowing me with all his worldly goods? “You won, Nico. You own my brother and his future in-laws.”And my heart.“Why aren’t you satisfied? Your sister’s death was tragic beyond words.” My eyes fill with tears. “I wish we could turn back the clock, but we can’t.”
Desperately I blink. “Is this what Lucia would want for you? To spend your life consumed with hatred and revenge?”
My hand is shaking as I swipe away the dampness clinging to my lashes. “What you’re doing to me, everyday…”
“Bella—”
I won’t allow his interruption. “When it happened, I was a kid.” To go on, I swallow hard against the lump in my throat. “Now each time you see me, you’re reminded of her, and it feeds your anger. I promise you this… Destroying me won’t make you feel better.”
I take a breath and say the words that kill me. “Please, Nico. I’m begging you. Let me go.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Nico
No.
Every part of me rejects her plea. I’d rather tear out my cold heart than lose her.
For the first time in my life, I’m helpless.
This, though, is devastating, leaving a hole inside me unlike anything I’ve felt since the loss of my sister and parents.
Bella goes through the motions of getting ready to go to the office, even though it’s a Saturday, taking care to avoid being in the same place at the same time as me.
When she leaves for the day, she does so without saying goodbye.
That’s the beginning of a routine I come to despise.
Since she asked for freedom almost two weeks ago, she has spent evenings away from the penthouse and filled her weekends with events, citing holiday obligations. When I work late, I often come home to find her already locked in her suite. Now we’re no longer having sex.
It’s all I can do not to remove the door completely.
When I’m all alone in bed each night, her words return to haunt me.
“You won…”
“Why aren’t you satisfied?”
I don’t have answers, so I ruthlessly shove the thoughts aside.
As I do most mornings, I have Sergio take me to my aunt and uncle’s home, and Aunt Gina answers the door.
After greeting me, she says, “Raffaele is finishing a phone call.”
I follow her into the kitchen.
Because I’ve been skipping meals, I help myself to a slice of quiche while Aunt Gina pours me an espresso.
“We missed Bella on Sunday.”
“She had a headache,” I explain even as I wonder what excuse she will come up with this week.
At one time, she enjoyed attending with me. Or at least didn’t object.
“I know it’s not my place, Nico…”