A beat of silence danced between us.
“Nico,” she said flatly. “What are you doing here?”
I closed my eyes, savoring the sound of my name on her lips. “Do you really need to ask?”
I heard the bed shift and opened my eyes to see her sit up. My gaze dropped to her chest, and I couldn’t help but smile when I saw her wearing one of my shirts that hung loosely on her.
She looked down, fidgeting with the fabric. “Mya found this with my things,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
I walked closer to her. “I love seeing you in my clothes, Angel.” I settled into the chair beside her.
She looked up, her eyes blazing as she shut off the music.
“Nico, what are you doing here?” she asked again.
“I needed to see you.”
“Why?”
I worked my jaw. “Because you’re mine.”
She glared at me. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” I said calmly, though I gripped the armrests, ready to rip them off.
She turned her gaze away, staring straight ahead. I took the opportunity to study her. The bruises were fading, some already gone, her color returning.
“Have you eaten?” I asked, glancing around the room. It was after five, and I hadn’t seen anyone bring her food.
She didn’t respond.
I sighed. “What would you like? I’ll get you whatever you want.”
“I want you to leave,” she said quietly but firmly. She was angry. My angel had a darkness around her aura.
“I’m not leaving,” I told her.
Finally, she turned to me, but her eyes were dark with fury. “I don’t understand. The moment you thought I betrayed you, you threw me in the basement like trash and refused to listen to me. What makes you think you’ve earned my attention, let alone my affection?”
“I know I fucked up. I was an asshole.”
She scoffed. “Yeah, a big asshole.”
I held back my smirk at her sassiness.
“But you have to understand?—”
“Understand what?” she interrupted, her voice sharp. “That you were ready to torture me because you thought I was a spy?” She sat up a little straighter, her eyes narrowing.
I clenched my jaw, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. I hated being interrupted. Any other person would’ve already had their tongue ripped out.
“My world is dark. I can’t risk having distractions or mistakes. I already had a mole, and Enzo is in the FBI, which was another reason why I had to be cautious.”
So much happened that night. Too many secrets were exposed.
“It still doesn’t make what you did right. It doesn’t matter what you think happened,” she shot back.
“You’re wrong.”
