The words shattered something inside me. Because for the first time all night, she sounded scared. Not angry. I moved closer. She moved back.
"Leo knows you're alive,” I said.
Her head snapped up. "What?"
"He called,” I grunted. “Didn’t give me much time to talk. I assume he knows I wouldn’t kill a woman.”
She blinked. Once. Twice. Disbelief flooded her face.
"Did you speak to Chiara?" she asked, her voice shaky. “Did she ask about me?”
“No, only her husband,” I added. “Why does your sister’s opinion matter so much to you?”
“Because I’m not a heartless monster like you,” she bit out.
I shrugged. “Seems to me like my current pet is in pretty well-kept surroundings.”
Once Aurora realized I meant her, her tiny hands formed fists.
“Plus, troublemaker,” I added. "I know what siblings are like. Because someone killed my brother. My twin. Do you know who that man was?"
The color drained from her face before I told her. “Leo?”
“Exactly,” I hissed. “So you’ll excuse me if I don’t give a fuck about the Serpent crying his eyes out over a man who wasn’t evenfamily. A man he tried to force onmywoman. You expect me to give a damn about Sergio’s life? Try not gruesomely murdering my twin brother.”
Aurora stared. Then unexpectedly barked out a laugh. A short one. Barely there. But real. The sound hit me like a bullet. Because it was the first genuine laugh I'd heard from her since the cathedral. Aurora realized she'd laughed. And looked horrified.
Good. Right then, I was enjoying her suffering.
"What exactly did you tell Leo?" she asked. “Did you negotiate a deal?”
"Mostly that I wasn't giving you back." I shrugged. “Then he hung up on me.”
The laugh disappeared, replaced by annoyance. That was more familiar. Aurora grabbed the nearest cushion. I sighed.
"Don't."
She threw it anyway. I let it hit me directly in the face, then caught it. Slowly. Then looked at her. Aurora looked incredibly pleased with herself.
The weight in my chest eased. Just slightly. Enough to breathe. Enough to remember what Angelo had said all those years ago.You'll meet a woman. She'll ruin your life.
The bastard had been right. Standing in a glass prison overlooking a storm-dark ocean while a kidnapped bridethreatened me with decorative pillows… I found myself wishing he were there to see it.
Aurora looked away. Toward the ocean. Toward the darkness. Toward home. I watched her swallow. Watched her shoulders tighten. Watched her pretend she wasn't scared. The same way I pretended half the city wasn't currently preparing for war.
"Do you want to call Chiara?" I suggested. “I can let you make that call.”
Everything stopped. Even the ocean seemed quieter. Aurora turned slowly. Like she wasn't sure she'd heard me correctly. "What?"
"Do you want to call your sister?" The suspicion arrived. Fast. Sharp. Expected. "Because contrary to popular belief, I don't actually enjoy making women cry."
Her eyes narrowed. "I don’t trust you, Devil.”
The words landed harder than they should have. Aurora folded her arms. Rain hammered against the glass roof overhead. Lightning flashed somewhere over the ocean. For a second neither of us spoke. Then she shook her head.
"You can call me that, if it’s easier for you," I smirked. "You've called me Devil in your naughty little thoughts for a week, after all."
"You don’t deserve a name,” she hissed, and I fought myself to ignore her not dying she’d had fantasies about me. “You keep doing that thing. The thing where you act like we're discussing weather instead of the fact you murdered a man and kidnapped me."