Unveiled: Chapter 11

The garden is starkly beautiful but in an unsettling way. The sun’s golden rays penetrate the flower beds with a sinister yellow hue, and the chirping birds sound like mocking laughter as if they know what monsters hell is about to unleash. Even the rustling of leaves carries ominous whispers in the breeze, an eerie sense of dread as if something dark lurks beneath the beauty.

I couldn’t sleep last night, and neither could Nicoli, although he pretended to. But I knew he wasn’t. There was no steady rhythm to his breathing, stilted and erratic, tension rolling off his body like a wave of heat. It was the longest goddamn night, and I was secretly thankful when dawn started to creep up on the horizon. The night felt like it would never end. And this morning at the breakfast table, the atmosphere was suffocating. Every breath felt like a struggle with an uncomfortable silence that thickened the air. There was no banter between the brothers, no jokes or cussing. It was just…silence. I was the cause of it. I could see it in the way everyone would sneak glances my way, their expressions relaying their discomfort. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I just got up and walked out. And now here I am, outside on the porch, trying desperately to catch my breath and find some solace in this abyss of darkness that has become my life.

“Here you are.” Nicoli walks out on the deck. “The pharmacy just delivered this.”

I glance at the paper bag. “Pre-natals?”

He nods, and I arch a brow at him in silent question, and he lightly shakes his head.

My throat tightens as I force out the word, “Thanks,” my eyes glued to him. His face is a battlefield of emotions, courage and despair waging an epic war. I can’t imagine how hard this has to be for him, and I wish so much that this wasn’t something I had to expect of him.

I wrap my fingers firmly around his, silently pleading for some kind of hope. His azure gaze pierces me to the core, and for a moment, his face softens. It’s a small consolation, but it’s something.

“Promise me this won’t take away everything we have,” I say softly.

He grips my hand tightly, a promise sealed within the warmth of his skin. His thumb brushes soothingly on the back of my hand. “We’ll make it through this, I swear.”

Tears well up in my eyes, and I can hardly breathe as I stand there, our fingers intertwined. The emotions that course through me are like a hurricane, pushing me over the edge until I think I can’t take it anymore.

As if he could feel the storm in me, he pulls me close and wraps his arms tightly around me, and all I can do is bury my face against his chest, clenching my jaw to stop myself from sobbing. His cologne lingers in my nose as I cling to him, desperately willing myself to find a shred of hope that all this will be worth it in the end.

“It’s gonna be okay, Hummingbird,” he whispers, breathing lightly against my hair, rubbing circles on my back. “All this is going to end soon.”

“It has to,” I murmur. “I can’t take it that they look at me differently now.”

“Who?”

“Your brothers. My brother.”

Nicoli leans back, brushing strands of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “They’re concerned.”

“I know they are.”

“Hey.” He catches my chin between his fingers, lifting my face to his. “You and I, we’re in this together. We are going to see this through, and we’re going to come out stronger.” He presses his lips gently against mine, and I close my eyes, letting myself be consumed by the love between us. At that moment, nothing else exists except for Nicoli’s touch and the overwhelming emotions he brings out in me. It’s all I have—he’s all I have and all I’ll ever want. If my need for blood ruins this and takes him from me, I will never forgive myself.

I wrap my arms around him tightly, deepening our kiss and pouring all my fears and hopes into it. I want to believe we can make it through this together, but a part of me is terrified. What if everything falls apart? What if I’m not as strong as I think I am? What if ending this war with Nunzio costs me everything?

Nicoli pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against mine as he breathes heavily. “I promise you that no matter what happens, no one will ever come between us.”

“I hope so.”

“Trust me,” he murmurs against the corner of my lips before kissing them again briefly. “I let you down once. I won’t do it again.”

“You have never let me down.” My heart flutters with renewed hope. “And I trust you,” I say, and he kisses me once more, his lips warm and familiar, anchoring me in the present and making the fear and doubts recede. Slowly, we pull away from each other, and Nicoli takes my hand again, leading me back into the house.

As we pass the foyer, one of the staff members is placing a glass vase with white gardenias on the side table. “Mrs. Del Rossa, these just came for you.”

“Thank you,” I say, then glance at Nicoli. “Is this you?”

“No.” It’s the tone of his voice that spurs a violent shiver down my spine. I lift the card attached to the vase, and when I see the name written on the front, my stomach drops to the soles of my feet.

‘Birdie…’

The card slips through my fingers, a sheet of ice running through my veins. I take an instinctive step back from the flowers like they might ignite into a violent explosion at any moment. Nicoli swipes the envelope off the floor with a vicious snarl, cursing as he rips open the card. His face contorts with rage as he reads it, and my whole body trembles with a sickening anticipation that echoes off my bones.

“Motherfucker!” Nicoli drops the card on the table, and I force myself to glance at the note, each word written in elegant script, the letters piercing me like shards of glass.

‘What a beautiful mother you’ll be.’

Dark waves of dread crash over me as if an unseen hand ripped away my courage and replaced it with a fear so intense it twists its way into my chest, clawing at my lungs.

Nicoli snatches his phone with a trembling hand, and his voice is sharp and desperate as he yells out orders to the security team. At the same time, an invisible force wraps itself around me, squeezing my throat until I can barely draw a single breath. The rest of the world disappears around me, fading away like smoke in the air until all that remains are the flowers in front of me and Nunzio’s voice ringing clear in my ear as he calls me Birdie over and over again. It’s like a mantra, each syllable a vise tightening its grip around my spine.

But then Nicoli is in front of me, his hands cupping my face and forcing me to look into his eyes. “Mira,” he says firmly. “Are you okay?”

Inhaling a deep breath, I can feel the air slowly filling my lungs, Nicoli’s touch grounding me and his voice breaking through every other sound around us. I bite down hard on my lip as I nod, barely managing to keep tears from spilling down my face.

He leans in closer, brushing his thumb along my cheek. “We got this, Hummingbird. Okay? We got this.”

His eyes pierce mine like daggers, seeking out any shred of weakness or fear, and I steel myself against his probing gaze. My heart pounds furiously in my chest, but I force myself to take a deep breath and look him in the eye, unwilling to let him see that I’m afraid. The last thing I want is for my husband to think I’m not strong enough to see this through.

I refuse to be weak.

“Really. I’m fine,” I reassure him, stepping back and glancing around him at the flowers. “White gardenias,” I murmur. “A symbol of secret love.”

“Jesus Christ,” Nicoli murmurs. “This fucker and his goddamn mindfucks.”

Maximo bursts through the front door, gripping the security guard by his collar with a rage-fueled strength. His eyes blaze with anger as he snarls through gritted teeth, “He didn’t check the note!” Maximo shoves the guard with such force that he stumbles forward and falls face-first onto the floor. He bellows in fury, “You were supposed to check everything that gets delivered here! Every-motherfucking-thing!”

“I thought it was Mr. Del Rossa.” The guard gets back up on his feet. “I thought it was him who sent her the flowers.”

“What the fuck made you think it was Nicoli?”

“The name on the card. Birdie.” He shrugs. “That’s what he calls her.”

Nicoli rakes his fingers across his face in frustration. “Not Birdie, you dumb fuck. Hummingbird. I call my wife Hummingbird.”

Maximo is furious, his face twisted into a scowl of rage. The palpable anger radiates off him in waves, his muscles rippled with tension. I know what’s coming next; my brother’s going to make an example out of this guard so no one will ever forget the consequences of neglecting their duties. And it’s going to be a hundred times worse because of the rage he’s been silently carrying around since I made it clear that this war with Nunzio will be handled my way.

Before Maximo can take a step forward, I place myself between him and the guard. “Beating the shit out of him won’t change anything.”

“It’ll make me feel better.”

“Will it?” I challenge. “I know we’re all on edge around here, and these flowers are like a goddamn bomb right now. But this is exactly what Nunzio wants. He’s fucking with our heads. He wants me to be scared. He wants you and Nicoli to get angry and lose your shit, why? Because people make mistakes when they’re not in control.”

Maximo cocks his head, considering my words as he glares at the guard. His fists are still clenched tightly at his sides when Nicoli grabs the guard behind his neck and drags him to the front door. “You’re fired. And consider me not having him kill you to be your severance pay.”

He slams the door shut and pulls out his cigarettes before lighting one and angrily pacing with it stuck between his lips. I can only imagine how close he is to exploding, wanting to go on a goddamn rampage through the city right now.

Leandra appears at the top of stairs. “You know your mom doesn’t like it when you smoke in the house.”

Nicoli glances up at her, taking the cigarette from his mouth and exhaling a plume of smoke. “Yeah, well…she’s not here.”

“But your wife is,” she says as she starts to descend the stairs. “And she happens to be pregnant, too. So, I’d appreciate it if all you could stop smoking around her.”

Nicoli glances at me, and I can see it’s only dawned on him. “Fuck,” he mutters, opens the door, and stomps to the driveway, stubbing the cigarette with his heel into the asphalt before coming back inside. “Happy?”

Leandra smiles. “Very.”

“Get a trail on whoever got these flowers delivered,” he orders Maximo.

“Already on it.”

“Good.”

“He’s going to slip up,” I say simply. “It’s only a matter of time.”

Maximo straightens in front of me. “How can you be so sure?”

“That psychopath thinks I might be pregnant with his baby. I can assure you, even with a fifty-fifty chance, that son of a bitch will risk coming up for air just to find out I’m carrying the next Ferrero heir.”