Page 60 of Innocent Bratva Twins
I glance at Nico, then at the door.
Grabbing my purse from the sofa where I was sitting, I sling it over my shoulder and rush towards the door.
I’ll get an Uber downstairs.
My thoughts are mayhem, and I need space to think.
The door handle wiggles in my hand, but it’s locked. Dammit.
Of course, it’s locked.
“Let me out,” I snap.
“I can’t do that,” he sighs, standing up and shoving his hands into his pockets.
His mouth is tight.
“Nico, let me out. You can’t keep me in here. I need time to process this. I need time to think.I need space away from you to figure out if I want you in my life.”
“I can’t let you out, Serafina. It’s not safe. I don’t know if Ivan Orlov knows about you or not, and I’m not willing to take the risk.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “So, it was fine to risk involving me in your life in the first place, keeping those secrets from me, and what, hoping for the best or something? But now suddenly the risk is too big? Let. Me.Out.” I stomp my foot like a child, frustration running so deep that I’m crying again.
Nico’s face is pained as he shakes his head again. “You’ll be staying here until I can solve this issue. You need to be patient. I’ll sort it out as quickly as I can, Sera. But until I’ve figure out who the rat is in the office—and make sure they aren’t coming after you—you’ll be my guest here at the penthouse.”
I’m getting nowhere with this, and for tonight, at least, I can see he isn’t letting me go. But that doesn’t mean that I have to sit here with him and be pleasant.
In a frustrated huff, I spin away from him, angry tears spilling over my cheeks. I march to the spare room upstairs and slam the door closed behind me. He better not dare come in here and try to talk to me again tonight. I want nothing to do with him right now.
I want to be angry. That’s what I want, because anger is easier than acknowledging that my heart is busy shattering into a thousand tiny little pieces.
I sit on the edge of the bed, gasping for breath between sobs as they begin to overwhelm me.
No matter how hard I try to stay angry, the hurt creeps in.
My heart splinters.
Broken glass spreads inside my rib cage, cutting my insides, tearing me apart.
I clutch my chest as I fall on the bed, rolling onto my side and pressing my face into the pillow to hide my agonized cries.
The man I love doesn’t exist.
And I never even told him how I felt about him.
The person left is a stranger to me.
A criminal.
Mafia.
Underworld darkness creeps into his blood like a virus.
I have no idea who he is or what he’s capable of.
I cry myself to sleep.
I wake up shivering and cold with a dark shadow standing over me.
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