Drop them off outside the front door tomorrow, I add. Magdelena doesn’t have keys or the security code to the door. No one does. Not even Elio. She relies on me to let her in. Which I won’t do.
I won’t have Magdelena – or anyone, for that matter – come inside while Aurora is here. I’ve already told my maid that her services won’t be required inside the home for the foreseeable future. I’m still paying her, though. And paying her real fucking good. It’s always been my experience that people are less likely to betray you in any way when they’re counting on you to pay all of their bills. Magdelena’s got a kid with special needs, and I know the salary I pay her is what keeps him in his expensive therapy sessions and his fancy private school with extra support. She’s not going to risk losing out on that coin.
Not to mention the fact that when people betray me, they don’t just get fired.
They die.
Even so, I still won’t risk bringing Magdelena into the house with Aurora here. Now that I know people will be looking for her, now that I know what she’s worth to them, I can’t risk her being seen by anyone.
Magdelena replies back right away.
No problem. What can I pick up for you?
I snap a picture of the list, then send it. I put my phone back into my pocket, but then immediately pull it back out again.
Ignore all the “any brand” shit, I text her. Buy nice stuff. Lots of nice stuff.
I don’t have a fucking clue what constitutes “nice stuff,” especially as it pertains to the list Aurora has written. Is there such a thing as luxury tampons or deodorant?
Probably. And if there is, I want Magdelena to buy it.
Understood, she texts back. Satisfied that I’ve at least sorted out one Aurora-related thing, I put my phone away. But without the phone’s screen to look at, my gaze inevitably falls to my laptop.
I’ve been researching the legalities of marriage, and of getting married as quickly as possible, all afternoon. Which is fucking crazy.
Because me marrying Aurora Bianchi is fucking crazy.
If I gave her the choice, she’d probably choose exile in Ireland.
But I didn’t spend my afternoon looking up isolated Irish locales appropriate for a mafia principessa in hiding. I spent it learning about marriage publication notices, because apparently that’s a thing in Quebec. I didn’t know it before, but in order to get married, we’d have to submit a notice of marriage or civil union to be published on an official government website, like some kind of modern-day reading of the banns. The publication would have to include our real full names and even addresses.
Might as well just get one of those planes that writes messages in the sky and have it tell the whole of New York that Curse Titone has got the girl they’re looking for. And not only that, but the ceremony can only take place a minimum of twenty days after this publication notice gets posted. Which means the total period that Aurora remains a target gets almost instantly doubled. Even if the publication notice got posted this fucking second, that’s still fifty fucking days until she’s no longer the Bianchi heiress.
At least my research has shown me another way.
Ontario doesn’t require a publication notice. Instead, we could simply get a marriage license. It would be valid for ninety days, and there would be no waiting period. We could get married two fucking minutes after securing the license. With all my contacts and money, I have no doubt I could get a license immediately, without even booking an appointment or handing over Aurora’s ID. ID she doesn’t even have with her, at least not in her real name.
All of this information is only relevant, of course, if I do in fact marry her. Despite the fact that I basically told Elio to fuck off when he mentioned sending her away, I have to weigh that option carefully.
But whenever I do weigh it, something always tilts the scales. It’s the fact that, unless she marries somebody, she will never be truly safe. She could have men looking for her for fucking years. Scouring the world for her for the rest of her natural life. She’d be constantly in hiding. Constantly on the run.
Would that be worse than a life forever bound to me?
She might not think so, based on how she reacts every time I bring the handcuffs out. I think about tonight, think about whether I need to use them in this house. I’m content to give her more freedom here because of all the security. She can’t go anywhere without me knowing at once. But if I’m asleep, even with the security system and the alarm she’d trigger, it would take me precious seconds to fully wake up, realize what had happened, and go after her.
Sometimes a few seconds is all it takes for everything to fall apart.
Elio almost managed to get back inside to pull our mamma out of that fire. But he dragged me out first. And by the time he ran back into the flames, shit was collapsing all around him. He couldn’t make it.
She didn’t make it.
Just a few fucking seconds.
I’ll use the handcuffs.
Chapter 14
Aurora
