Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
But I was a fucking black hole, drawing in any source of light with my irresistible pull, only to extinguish it and tinge it in blackness.
I could only imagine what Massimo would say about my analysis, about my abundance of symbolism. But dammit, I was right.
I’d ruined Greta even if she’d had years to grow immune against it. Eventually I’d pulled her down into my black hole.
It would be the same with Aurora. I already had Greta on my conscience, if you could call my shaky moral compass by that name, I didn’t want to add Aurora to that list.
There were so many women out there I didn’t give a flying fuck about, enough to spend several lifetimes fucking. I definitely wouldn’t entertain thoughts of one of the very few I minded hurting.
I stifled a groan when the patio door opened and Aurora stepped out in a white bathrobe. Speaking of symbolism…
She headed straight toward me, probably thinking I needed company and consolation. The only thing that would console me for a little while right now was a good torture session, preferably Amo, and then an angry revenge fuck with a woman from the Famiglia.
“Hey, I saw you sitting there from my window,” Aurora said unnecessarily.
I nodded and took another deep pull.
She wrapped her arms around herself and tilted her head as if she was trying to see through my protective layer. “Mom and Dad refused to tell me what happened, but I gathered it was something about Greta. How is she?”
I grimaced and tossed my cigarette to the ground then stomped it with my boot. “She set a guy on fire. She’s in her room now, trying to come to terms with it.”
Aurora’s eyes grew huge and she sank down on the lounge chair beside me. She stared at me as if she was hoping I’d take the words back. “She would never do that. I just can’t believe it.”
I chuckled sardonically. “That’s what happens if you hang around me too often. My darkness rubs off. It’s more contagious than syphilis.”
She shook her head. “That’s not how it works. And you’re not dark.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Rory, ignorance can be a blessing but it can also be dangerous.”
She bit her lip, a deep frown lining her forehead. “It’s not about you. It’s about what she went through this last year, with losing Amo and all. Don’t blame yourself.”
My lips curled with contempt at hearing that loathed name. He was definitely responsible for the shit show, too, and he’d eventually pay for it, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t to blame.
“I just came outside to tell you I’m here if you need someone to talk. Alessio and Massimo might not always be the best choice for every topic. I can keep a secret, you know that.” Her voice was gentle and beckoning, and she put her palm on my hand hesitantly. I could feel it shake slightly. I frowned down at it, at the intimacy, at the way I actually didn’t mind it. For a moment I let it sit there, warm and soft against my night-cooled hand.
Then I pulled it away, building a barrier between us. “I’m fine. This is nothing a good killing session can’t cure.”
“Everyone has moments of weakness.”
I scoffed. “Aurora, stop trying to normalize me. I’m not like most people. I won’t ever be a victim in any scenario. I’m someone who turns other people into victims. If you want to save someone, do yourself a favor and don’t pretend I’m misunderstood and not fucking bad.”
Aurora nodded and got up, shoving her hands into the pockets of her bathrobe. “My offer stands,” she said softly before she turned and walked back to the Scuderi mansion.
She didn’t often show that side around me, but she could be stubborn. I liked that side of her.
Almost eighteen, about another year later
It was the first time I was back in New York in two years. The last time we’d all attended my cousin Amo Vitiello’s wedding to a woman who had later been killed by Nevio for hurting his twin, Greta. It hadn’t been a pleasant wedding. I still had nightmares about how the Famiglia had lured us all into a trap and attacked us.
I often woke from the sound of gunshots. It had been my first personal encounter with violence, the first time I’d really feared for my life. It had also been the day when my infatuation with Nevio had turned into something even more, something that was hard to put into words.
Nevio had saved us that day, in his very own way. Ruthless and brutal, how most people perceived him, but apart from the lust for violence I had seen something else in his eyes that day: love and concern. Not for me, for his twin Greta, but seeing those things had made me yearn to see the same emotions in his eyes for me one day. Foolish, I know.