Elio nods and helps me into the back seat. He slides in beside me, and Diego takes the wheel. We pull away from the safehouse, leaving behind the wreckage and the bodies. My chest aches as I watch it fade away. We’ll never go back there. It feels like the beginning of the end.
I stare out the window as Boston comes into view, the familiar skyline both comforting and threatening. We're entering the city. Ronan's territory. If anyone sees me…
"No one will see you," Elio says, reading my mind. "The building has a private garage. You'll go straight up to the apartment."
I nod, but I can’t speak. My throat feels too tight.
The drive takes twenty more minutes. Elio spends most of it on the phone, issuing orders, demanding updates on the men who attacked the safe house. From what I can gather, two of them are dead, and the other two are being "questioned" by Diego's team.
I don't ask what that means. I already know—I don’t need details. No matter who they work for, the thought makes my stomach turn.
Diego pulls into the parking garage of Elio’s building, the building I ran to the night this all started. Elio takes me straight to the private elevator that will go up to the penthouse, ushering me inside. The doors close, sealing us in silence.
It feels strange, being back in Elio’s space. His home. He hasn’t had much of a chance to make it into one—it still largely has a hotel-like feeling, all of the decor and the furnishings done as if by an interior designer. It’s spotless and beautiful, but there isn’t much of a personal touch.
“There’s a guest bedroom on the second floor,” Elio says, leading me to the staircase and escorting me up it. “It has an attached bathroom and everything you need. Just make yourself comfortable. I’ll come check on you in a bit. I need to make some calls.”
He feels distant. Further away from me than he has before, as if he’s already starting the process of letting me go. He turns away, phone in hand, and I stand there for a moment, feeling lost and alone in this beautiful, empty apartment. Then I walk to the bedroom and close the door behind me.
—
It’s late when Elio comes to check on me, past midnight, but I can’t sleep. I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing, when the bedroom door finally opens. He looks exhausted, his shirt untucked, his hair disheveled from running his hands through it too many times.
"Sorry," he says quietly. "That took longer than I expected."
"It's fine." I stand, wrapping my arms around myself. "Did you find out anything?"
"The men who attacked the safe house were hired guns. Desmond paid them to take you, bring you to him. I’m not sure if he’s aware that I married you." His expression darkens. "We're working on finding out where he's hiding."
I swallow hard, nodding. Something has changed, I can feel it. There’s a distance between us that wasn’t there before.
"I need to go back out tomorrow," Elio says, not meeting my eyes. "I need to manage things with Ronan, and try to figure out where Desmond is hiding. You'll stay here with the security team."
"How long will you be gone?"
"I don't know. A day, maybe two."
Something in his tone makes my chest tighten. He sounds so cold. Not at all like he was hours ago, when I was in his lap, when his hands were all over me, when we were?—
"Elio—"
"We need to talk, Annie."
My stomach drops. "Okay," I say carefully, even though nothing about this feels okay.
He sits on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped between his knees. I stand up, too nervous to sit, my stomach churning.
"Earlier tonight," he begins, and I already know where this is going. "We can’t keep doing this, Annie. That has to be the last time."
I feel like I’m going to be sick. “Why?” I demand, and Elio looks at me, his expression exhausted.
"Because it's only making this harder." He finally looks at me, and the pain in his eyes mirrors my own. "Every time I touch you, every time I'm with you like that, it gets harder to remember that this has to end."
"So don't let it end," I say desperately. "We can figure this out, Elio. We can tell Ronan?—"
"No." The word is sharp, final. "We've been over this. We’ve talked about all the reasons. Ronan is not going to listen. Not when he finds out we’ve been lying to him. He’s going to blame me. He’s going to act rashly, and when the dust settles, I’ll be dead and your life will be ruined. Your relationship with your brother will be ruined. I won’t let that happen, Annie.” His jaw works. “I left once to make sure it didn’t happen. I shouldn’t have come back.”
I stare at him, my mouth dropping open. “You don’t mean that.”
