Chapter -Twelve
1402 Words
Aleena — POV
The Bellini estate stretched across acres of land. It looked far more luxurious than the Caruso estate, with its vast lawn and breathtaking gardens filled with beautiful flowers. I found myself drawn to them.
The Caruso estate had never had a garden.
I glanced away. Nico ended his call and caught me staring at the flowers.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“Let's talk in my office.”
I followed him inside. Once we were in his office, his stoic gaze met mine.
“Didn't you say you have someone in your life?” I asked.
“I do,” he replied shamelessly.
“So, what? You're planning to keep your lover as your mistress?”
“Yes. She's okay with it,” he said, lighting a cigarette.
I let out a dramatic scoff.
“I don't want to stay married to you,” I argued. He looked at me with an unreadable expression.
“You should be grateful to me. I saved you from the asshole who would've hurt you,” he said coldly.
A chill ran through me. As much as I hated to admit it, that was entirely possible.
“Then what do you want from me?” I asked. His eyes slowly traveled from head to toe.
I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. His stony stare made me uneasy. For a fleeting moment, a terrifying thought crossed my mind. Could he hurt me? Could he force himself on me?
“You're not my type.” He took another drag from his cigarette.
Relief washed over me at his words. There was no lust in his eyes, only disgust. He hated me. But why?
“Then why not divorce me in six months?” I asked.
“Your father borrowed money from us,” he said coldly. “You're in my care until his work is done. Keeping you here keeps him in line.” I shook my head.
“My father doesn't care about me,” I said. “He'll use my younger sister instead. He'll force her to marry Rayne just to get back at you.”
The thought made my skin crawl.
“He'll never speak to Moris again,” Nico interjected.
I looked at him curiously. What strings had he pulled to gain this much control over my father?
“My men are stationed at your estate,” he added. “They're keeping a close watch on your father, his men, and the chemists working
in those secret basements.” He took a drag from his cigarette.
“Moris won't sit back and take this,” I said. He looked at me calmly.
“I know,” he said. “I'm ready for him.”
“So if my father pays you back, you'll let me go?” I asked.
Silence answered my question.
The lack of a response irritated me. What game was he playing?
“How much did my father borrow from you?” I asked.
“Ten billion.”
I could pay that. Thanks to my secret billion-dollar business. I had more than enough money to get myself out of this mess.
“What if I repay the amount?” I asked. “Will you let me go in six months?”
His eyes narrowed.
“It isn't just about the money, Aleena,” he whispered. “I want the Caruso business to be mine.”
His tone was cold and businesslike. He was planning something. I looked in his eyes and folded my arms across my chest, studying
him carefully.
“What is your goal with me?” I asked. “Answer honestly.”
A smirk tugged at his lips.
“You want an honest answer?”
I nodded.
For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, as if weighing whether he should tell me the truth.
Finally, he spoke.
“I'll tell you once you regain the memories you've lost.”
I blinked in surprise.
“Why bring that up—”
The words died in my throat. Did I know him from the past? Was there something between us that I couldn't remember?
“What if I never regain my memories?” I asked.
“You will,” he replied. “If you actually see a Psychiatrist.”
“What if I don't?” I pressed. “Can't you give me a straight answer? Did I do something to you? Is that why you don't want to divorce me?”
Hatred flashed in his eyes. It was gone almost as quickly as it appeared, but I had seen it. I had done something to him. I was sure of it. A knot formed in my stomach. If he hated me this much, then there was a reason he refused to let me go. And whatever that reason was, I doubted it would end well for me.
“I'll consider telling you myself,” he said, crushing out his cigarette.
“I need a favor,” I said.
I needed someone I could trust to protect me. Caldwell was the only person who made me feel even remotely at ease. I didn't trust
Nico or his men.
“You're not in a position to ask me for favors,” he said as he turned toward the door.
“You have your mistress by your side,” I said. “I want Caldwell as my bodyguard.”
He stopped and looked back at me.
“No.”
“I wasn't asking. I was telling you.” A dark smirk crossed his face. It should have made me nervous. Instead, it made me bolder.
“He isn't setting foot in my mansion,” Nico said coldly.
“Like I said, I don't trust your men.” I stepped closer, meeting his gaze without backing down. Strangely, I wasn't afraid. The office door opened. Jared walked in. His eyes flicked between us, immediately sensing the tension.
“I heard Mrs. Bellini wants her old bodyguard.”
Nico shot him a look. ‘stay out of this.'
“Can you give us a minute?” Jared asked.
I nodded and stepped outside. The door shut behind me.
I lingered near it, hoping to eavesdrop, but their voices were too muffled to make out a single word.
Damn.
A few minutes later, the door suddenly opened. I jumped and quickly stepped back, pretending I hadn't been standing there listening.
Jared walked out.
“Mrs. Bellini, he's waiting for you.”
I reentered the office. Nico stood near the desk, his hands tucked into his pockets. His expression was completely neutral, impossible to read. His forest-green eyes settled on me.
“So?” I asked.
“Caldwell will report for duty tomorrow.”
I blinked in surprise. That had been easier than expected. Nico started toward the door, then abruptly stopped. He turned around and walked back to me.
My breath caught in my throat. He stepped into my personal space, towering over me. Up close, I could see the sharp line of his jaw and the small scar near the corner of his mouth. His height alone was intimidating. Then he leaned down, his lips close to my ear.
“Don't get close to any other man,” he whispered. “I don't want a scandal.”
“Afraid you can't handle the mess?” I challenged.
He pulled back just enough for our eyes to meet. His cold green gaze locked onto mine. Then that dark, unsettling smirk returned.
“You want to see people killed because of you?”
The words hit like ice water.
A sick feeling twisted in my stomach. Images flashed through my mind: my father's brutality, the bloodshed I'd witnessed, the horrors hidden beneath basements and closed doors. Nico wasn't joking.
“Mafia scandals are settled with blood, forced marriages, or bribes,” he said as he lit another cigarette.
Then he walked away. I watched him leave, resisting the urge to tell him the truth.
That I would never get close to another man.
Not ever. I'd rather be alone. But he didn't need to know that. If he wanted to believe otherwise, then maybe one day I could use that to my advantage.
My phone buzzed.
A text message.
Brian.
My best friend.
The message contained only two things: SOS
And a shared location. My pulse spiked. What the hell happened?
- Writer
