I hold his stare and watch as his mouth slams closed. As if he just realized what he has confessed.
I decide not to ride his balls about that just yet, because there are too many other questions going on. “My mother, she—”
“—is weak,” Niko snaps. “We finally captured her. She’s been on the run since we killed Luca and Joseph two years ago, but she’s fucking weak. You can decide what we do with her.”
“Can I see her?” I force the words out of my mouth. When he stares at me with wide eyes, I continue. “Please, Nik. You know I would give anything to know about my family.”
“You do know about your family. Your father has told you everything.”
“I mean just… her.”
“Fine.” Niko shuffles to the edge of the couch. “But you will do it with your father there. I won’t have her filling your head with lies. She’s not who you’re going to expect, Mer. She’s damaged. I’m not saying we should kill her, but I am saying we need to send her away.”
“I can maybe help her.”
“Nope!” Niko stands, shaking his head. “Did you not hear a fucking word I just said? You were nothing but a bargaining chip, and she’s a fucking hacker.” He stops before falling back onto the couch. “You know what? You can make your own assumption about her.” He stands again, removing his shirt. “I’m going to get my kid, sleep, and don’t fucking wake me when you slide in later.” Before he hits the hallway, I turn quickly. “Nik! I can’t sleep with the body—”
“Meraki, this Cathedral has seen more death than a mortuary. The cleaner is on his way.”
And then he’s gone. Even with him grumpy, moody, and feeling a certain way about me right now, having him in this house with Ares fills my heart with so much warmth that I almost choke on the emotions fighting their way up my throat.
I swipe the tears off my cheek and make my way to the kitchen, stepping over Preacher’s body. “I’m really sorry about him,” I whisper over my shoulder.
Opening the fridge, I take out the bottle of Sauv and a wineglass. I look between Preacher and my wine before screwing the lid back on and placing it into the fridge.
I turn to see Cece leaning against the wall, her blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail and her makeup done to perfection.
I snatch my wineglass off the counter and sigh, sucking in as much of the alcohol as I can and waiting for my heartbeat to slow. “You’re obviously still running like a fucking hamster, judging by that tight ass.” I fall onto one of the chairs beneath the dining table, my hand grazing over the cool white-and-black marbled top.
“And you’re obviously still a bossy bitch.”
I chuckle, swallowing more wine while looking around the dining room. It’s adjacent to the kitchen but still feels intimate and relaxed. The dining table is a long solid piece of marble, sitting on marble legs that curve in intricate patterns. The chairs are soft suede that wraps around the back of whoever is sitting on them. We had leftover marble, so I paid the carpenters extra to create it for me.
Cece moves to the kitchen, opens the fridge, and brings back the bottle of wine and a glass. She places it down onto the table, screwing off the lid and pouring before refilling mine.
The floor squeaks as she pulls out her chair. “Can’t say I guessed we would be sharing wine over your dead husband’s body.”
“Hmmm,” I say, raising my wineglass. “Cheers to psycho ex-playthings who don’t like to share.” I run my finger over the lip of my glass, tilting my head at Cece.
“Ask me.” Cece raises a brow in challenge, tossing back half of her wine.
“You and Niko are together.”
Her hand flies to her mouth. “What?” She shakes her head. “Fuck no. That’s way too much damage, even for me, and even so”—she rests her forearms on the table—“that is your damage, not mine, honey.”
“You hurt me,” I say next, because I already knew they weren’t together.
There’s one thing that has been constant between Niko and me, and that’s how secure I am with how he feels about me. I know I’m irreplaceable to him, or he would have killed me years ago.
Her eyes fall to the table. Even after all her Botox, I watch as pain cripples her features so badly she can’t look at me.
“Look at me, Cece.”
She does, and I hold her stare.
“You fucking hurt me. You fucked girl code—you could have told me!”
“No, Mer. I couldn’t have. This is a code that I cannot break. If I broke girl code, you would be mad, but if I broke this code, I would be dead.”
I continue to hold her stare, the battle inside my mind continuing. If I can forgive Ari and Niko (not saying I have forgiven Niko right now), but if I can forgive Ari, I should be able to forgive Cece, right? Regardless that this pain hurts more. The betrayal. Can I see outside of the fact that it wasn’t personal? Or am I always going to hold it against her that she betrayed me? Not intentionally, of course, but if you try to move forward with a person you have not yet forgiven, pain will continue to remind you of what they did.