We don’t talk. He just holds me there, safe in the cocoon of his body, until the pilot tells us it’s time to prepare for landing. Then we get up, and he repeats the process in reverse, securing me in my coat, leading me back to my seat, and settling his palm on my knee.
Things only get stranger when we land, and he carries me to his car, securing me inside without another word. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but tension has crept into his features, and I’m a nervous wreck by the time we finally get back to the house. It’s a welcome sight, but a bittersweet one too. This place feels like home. Nino was right about that. I miss him so much already, but I can only hope that he will be happy when Manuel returns him safely to these familiar surroundings.
I don’t know if I’ll see him again. I’m trying to imagine how this might work. Will Alessio keep me locked in a room until I give birth? When I look at him, I feel crazy for even thinking it. But how can I not?
He drives through the gate, parks the car, and lifts me out again. I try to gesture to let him know I can walk, but he ignores it, carrying me inside the house and up all three levels to his bedroom. When he finally sets me down onto his bed, his lips part as if he’s about to say something, and then he looks away.
The numbness that’s kept me alive in his absence begins to thaw when I realize he’s being awkward again. He wants to tell me something, but he’s nervous. These are the rare moments of uncertainty Alessio doesn’t often show, but when he does, they tend to be with me.
He drags a hand through his hair, paces a little, and then stops, turning to look at me. “I lied to you.”
If I wasn’t worried already, it only gets worse when he grabs the tufted chair from near the window and drags it over in front of me. He sits down, and we’re face to face. I can see all of him, and he can see all of me, and it feels intimate. Alessio has always avoided direct conversation, and I don’t know how to prepare for whatever he might tell me.
“I’ve been lying to you,” he says again.
I hug myself, waiting for an explanation. I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I’m not going to interrupt him, not when he’s finally talking to me.
“When I told you Enzo was dead, it wasn’t true.”
My blood runs cold, and I glance at the door, terror streaking through my veins like he might appear at any moment. Before I can take that thought and run with it, Alessio reaches for my hands, taking them in his.
“He was in the Tribunal prison for murdering his brother and sister-in-law. That’s why I had Nino.”
Those words settle over me like a dark cloud. I’m still shaken, trying to process the multitude of my emotions when Alessio goes on.
“He’s dead now.” His thumbs rub circles over my hands, and I realize he’s trying to comfort me. “I swear it on my life. There’s a video if you want to see it for yourself. I’d understand if that’s what you need.”
I pull my hands free, my mind too foggy to comprehend I’m trying to sign a response to him. Alessio leans over and grabs the notepad from the nightstand. When he hands it over, it still has my writing on it from the night I came to tend to his wounds. I stare at the ink for a second, recalling that memory, wondering why he kept it. I flip to a new page and begin to write.
Why did you lie?
His tormented eyes move over my face. “Once I knew the truth about you, there was never a question that I would kill him. I wanted to be the one. Maybe that was selfish, but I needed him to suffer. I thought I was protecting you by keeping his existence a secret. I didn’t want his memory to haunt you. I didn’t want you to feel unsafe here. Before I could kill him, I needed approval from The Tribunal, and it took longer than I had anticipated. When I finally got it, I realized it was too late. Enzo knew my schedule well from years of consistency. He was aware that Manuel takes time off at Christmas, and I’d need a guard for my new wife. That was the opportunity Enzo saw when Gwen’s plan failed. He paid Damien to kill you, Natalia.”
He pauses, bowing his head as he draws in a staggered breath. Alessio has always been in careful control of his emotions, but when he looks up at me again, there is so much pain behind his eyes he can’t hide it.