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“I’ve met the girl once. It was purely a business deal.”
My mouth pops open and I stare at him. I’m in pure shock. I don't even know what to say. I don’t even know who he is.
“I’m telling you now because I’ve decided I can't do it. I won't live without you.” He's trying to keep calm but I can see he's shaking. Likewise, my hands are in fists, my nails cutting into my palms.
I turn away from him because I can't look at him anymore. I spot my jumper and rip it up off the ground, shoving it over my head and grabbing my phone from his bed. I aim for the door and he intercepts me, eyes all panicked. “Don't leave.”
I clench my teeth. “Get out of the way.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll drop you home, we need to speak about this.”
I push him out of the way and he doesn't budge. “Move!” I scream in a half sob and push him again. This time he allows me to move him, stepping to the side so I can rip the door open.
“I'm not getting in a car with you!” I scream as I speed walk down the corridor. He jogs after me in just a pair of trackie bottoms. “Vita Mia, please.”
I stop, chest feeling like he just put a spear through it. “Don't. Call me that.”
“You fucking are!” He shouts. His eyes turn more furious yet it doesn't frighten me. He steps into me and I back up, my back meeting the wall just in front of the staircase. His hand cages me in as he thuds it against the wall, eyes flaring, chest falling and rising too quickly. “Me and you, it isn't normal. You were made for me, I'm sure of it. The only person I will ever marry is standing in front of me. Do you understand?” I feel my face crack. His hand tilts my chin up and he lowers his head so there's barely any room to see anything but him. I should be used to it by now. It's been only him for weeks. “I fucking love you.” He sounds so resigned, so sure of his words.
A sob escapes from my chest. He can't throw that word around like it magically fixes everything. It fixes nothing.
“Let me go.” My voice breaks just like my heart.
He drops his hand from my chin but doesn't back up. “I can’t.”
I take a sharp intake of breath and prepare myself. “It’s not your choice to make.” I push his shoulder and he allows me to.
I walk away from him without looking back. Leaving him in that corridor with any remaining pieces of trust I had left.
23
Casimira
Present-day
Manhattan, New York City
I will not cry on his property.
I will not cry on his property.
I will not fucking cry on his property.
I start walking down the long driveway, pulling my phone out to call an Uber which will probably take a bloody hour to get here. My lip starts to quiver. I should have listened to myself and not gone near him in the first place. The front gates ahead of me start to open and I make myself stop crying by pure stubbornness. I shove it all down because I am not letting anyone else see me cry with my tail between my legs.
Raff’s escalade crawls towards me and a big part of me wishes the ground would swallow me up right now. Instead of just driving past me like I wish he would, he rolls to a stop. Winding the window down with a questioning look.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I'm doing? I'm walking home.” I don't mean to snap but it's either that or I start sobbing.
He frowns, black eyes flicking back to the house. “Where’s Enzo?”
I take a breath but it does nothing to calm me. “Maybe preparing for his wedding, who knows.” His eyes falter and he looks back to me with a wary expression. Why did I think maybe they wouldn't know? They’ve all known this whole time and have let me go on thinking we were building something. I let out a sardonic laugh and shake my head carrying on walking towards the iron gates. I hear the car continue and then the engine gets louder as it appears beside me, the passenger window rolled down. “Let me drive you home.”
I’m too tired to protest, so I just climb in and position myself as far away from him as I can. It’s hard when he takes up so much room.
He doesn't speak for the majority of the drive and I just focus on not cracking like an egg on his leather seats. It's not until we pull up outside my apartment building does he turn to me. “It's not his choice, you know. To get married. He has to, it's his responsibility.”
