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I'm unsure how much longer that will hold true. When Rafe, Gabriel, and Luca find out who Aurelia really is to them, the truth might shatter what steel forged. If I live long enough to regret it, it's going to sting like a motherfucker.
But I won't take it back. Not now. I made my choice. I'll live with it.
Amalia notices Aurelia's silence and attempts to draw her into conversation as we linger over drinks. "I've heard enough about these big idiots to last me a lifetime," she says, her smile inviting and genuine. "I want to hear all about Aurelia."
Aurelia fidgets in her chair, clearly nervous, and I notice Coda watching her intently from across the table. She hesitates for a moment before answering, her voice soft. "Um, there isn't much to tell, really. I was born and raised here in Chicago."
"What about your parents?" Amalia asks. "What do they do?"
"My father died before I was born," she whispers, slipping her hands into her lap. "My mother ran a cleaning service before she retired."
"Are you close?"
Aurelia nods, glancing down at her hands. "We've always been really close."
Something about the way she says it, or perhaps the way her voice shakes when she does, sends a sick sense of dread washing through me. She hasn't talked about her mother once since we've been together. She hasn't asked to call her, hasn't asked to see her. She hasn't mentioned her at all, in fact.
If they're so close, why hasn't she brought her up? Wouldn't her mother want to hear from her?
Something isn't right.
I share a look with Coda, who seems to understand my unspoken request—find out where her mother is, because something isn't adding up. He jerks his chin in a nod, his expression grim.
The baby monitor suddenly crackles to life, a tiny wail slipping through the room.
Amalia hops to her feet, inviting Aurelia to join her in checking on the baby.
Her gaze flickers to me as if seeking permission.
"Go ahead, little mouse," I encourage her, wanting her to know that I trust her and that she can trust Amalia. Nothing will happen to her inside this house. Every man inside would die to protect her.
The rest of the women immediately decide to join them. Chairs scrape back as they rise to their feet and slip from the room, chattering back and forth.
The atmosphere shifts as their voices fade in the distance.
Rafe turns his piercing gaze on me. "She suits you," he says.
"She does." I take a sip of brandy.
"She's quiet."
"She is."
Everyone watches us, smirking as Rafe repeatedly tries to pry for more information about her and our relationship but my lips remain sealed.
There's plenty I'd like to tell him—like the fact that his father is a stone-cold prick. Or the fact that his sister is extraordinary. Or the fact that I'm madly in love with her and willing to break any oath and fight any battle to keep her. But there's nothing I can say now.
"Maledizione, Mattia! You're a tight-lipped bastard," Rafe chuckles eventually, shaking his head in mock disbelief before raising his glass in a congratulatory toast. "But seriously, I'm happy for you."
I nod my appreciation but remain silent, the truth chafing like fucking chains around my wrists.
Aurelia deserves better than this. Goddammit. She deserves better.
A few minutes later, she reappears in the doorway, her face pale and eyes rimmed in red as if she's been crying.
My heart clenches at the sight of her distress. I rise from the table, crossing to her.
What the fuck happened?
