Page 117 of Nico

The girls would eventually have to go to school. Right now, it didn’t matter whether they missed a day or months’ worth of daycare. But it would matter when school came. They already started questioning when they would go back to see their friends.

The playroom door opened and to my surprise it was Mom. I quickly stood up and went to her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” My eyes snapped to her. Her voice was hoarse but there was no mistake. She had spoken! It was her first word to me since that first day. “Can I sit with you?”

“Yes, of course.”

I held her hand as I walked her over to my spot on the windowsill. Her bruises were fading and hopefully another few days, they’d be gone.

The twins were used to the fact I had a mom by now. For the first few days, they were freaked out - by her battered state and the fact I had a mom. It was the most time I have ever spent with my mom in all my twenty-six years. It was easy to get used to having her around. Maybe because when I was a little girl, I often found myself talking to my mom in my head. I’d imagine her responses and have a full blown conversation.

Yeah, it probably wasn’t healthy, but it was my way of dealing with things.

If she wouldn’t have traded her life for mine in the arrangement, she would have been a completely different person. Even now, thinking back to all the times I’ve seen her, I had never heard my mother laugh. Ever!

I knew nothing about her, but I loved her. I didn’t know her favorite food, flower, color, or hobby. Nothing! I just know that she was twenty when she had me and whatever Grandma told me when she found the strength to talk about her. Because it hurt her too.

Guilt ate at me every single day since I learned about the belles’ arrangement and why she had done it.

“Benito knows you are his,” Mom’s voice shattered the silence.

“I know,” I rasped. God, how I hated that man. It wasn’t healthy to despise someone so much. That man has caused so much pain to so many people. Cassio and Luca, his own sons, Nicoletta, my mother… these were just some of the people he hurt.

“Mom, Benito’s sons,” I started hesitantly, “Cassio and Luca. Have you met them before?”

She slowly shook her head off. “They happened before me. Their maternal grandfather raised them.” It was probably a reason they turned out okay. Though they couldn’t escape the mafia life. “Their grandfather comes from a powerful Italian family. All I know is that Benito hates them.”

That man had some serious mental issues. Those two were total badasses; they should just kill the asshole. It would make all of our lives easier. If we ever get a suggestion box, that was totally going in it. Anonymously, of course.

“Why would you marry someone like Benito?” Her question caught me off guard. My head whipped to the side to find her dead eyes on me.

I didn’t think Nico was like Benito. Yes, they both did illegal shit, but Nico had some scruples and standards when it came to crime. Didn’t he? It wasn’t as if I checked nor had time to run a check. Grace and Ella mentioned all the men fought human trafficking and having them in control of the East Coast, they saved many women and children.

God, I sounded stupid to myself. Crime was crime, no matter how you painted it. My grandmother’s words, not mine.

“It’s a long story,” I ended up saying. He forced me to do it probably wouldn’t bode well for the future of our family relations. Then on the other hand, I didn’t think she would appreciate my admission that I fell in love with him and loved having sex with his fine ass. Yes, my mother didn’t need to hear this. I had to help her heal, not scare her.

“He knows you are Benito’s,” she murmured, looking back at the twins.

A sharp gasp sliced through the room.

Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock. I could hear a clock somewhere in the room ticking, my heart racing against it.

“He does?” My voice sounded little more than a rasp.

“Yes, he sent a note to Benito,” she said slowly, softly. “Benito’s daughter for his sister.” My breath caught sharply. Hurt was ripping through me, leaving me wide open. Deadly silence filled the air as I waited for her to say something else. Anything else. “It was the only reason Morrelli sent that man to get me. To get me out before a message was sent to Benito by your husband, letting him know you are Benito’s daughter.”

The deceit.

The lies.

The revenge.

Finally, I understood why he wanted to marry me. He knew who I was, knew my value to his enemy. I should have known. He told me himself he always found out everything, went for the throat. Utter devastation flooded through me, the stillness of my mother emphasizing my husband’s betrayal.

“H-how do you know about the text then?” I rasped. “If you were already gone.”