{Nico’s pov}
The bedroom was colder than it had ever been.
Elena lay on the far edge of the bed, her back to me, her breathing shallow and even. Pretending to sleep. I sat at the edge nearest the windows, one hand cradling a glass of dark whiskey, the other resting on the pistol I’d set beside me on the nightstand.
It was almost peaceful, in a hollow, calculated way.
I had taken everything from her now. Her movements. Her freedom. Her little secret walks into the garden. Matteo’s men shadowed her every step. No more lies.
If she thought she could betray me and crawl into Dante’s arms, she was a fool.
She belonged to me. Whether she liked it or not.
I sat there, unmoving, as the soft knock came on the bedroom door.
“Boss.” Matteo’s voice was low and cautious.
I rose from the edge
