Chapter 6
Nico burst into the brilliantly illuminated walk-in closet, his chest heaving beneath his charcoal-gray shirt. Arthur entered right behind him, his tailored deep-navy suit a stark contrast to the bright, glaring lights of the massive wardrobe.
Nico spun around in a frantic circle, his dark eyes desperately scanning the room. The racks were still completely full. Her extravagant silk dresses, the racks of designer coats, the rows of expensive heels—everything was perfectly in place.
"She's still here," Nico breathed, a desperate, wild hope flashing across his handsome face. "Arthur, her clothes are all here. She didn't pack anything."
"Look closer, Nico," Arthur commanded softly, his sharp eyes sweeping the lower shelves at the back of the room. "The canvas bag she brought from Queens is gone. Her old boots are gone. The camel coat she refused to throw away is missing."
Nico’s heart hammered violently against his ribs. He turned toward the heavy steel safe embedded in the wall. The digital keypad was dark, but he quickly punched in his master code, his tattooed fingers trembling slightly.
The heavy door swung open.
Nico froze entirely. The air was sucked out of his lungs. Resting precisely on top of the dazzling, untouched diamond necklace he had bought her for their anniversary was his solid-metal black card. Beside it sat the luxury watches, the emerald earrings, and every single piece of expensive jewelry he had ever used to try and buy her happiness.
Nico stared at the untouchable wealth, his expression shattering. The tough, emotionally guarded mafia boss completely evaporated, leaving behind a man drowning in disbelief and rising panic.
"She left it," Nico whispered, his voice low, strained, and vibrating with medium intensity. He looked back at Arthur, his dark eyes wide and searching. "She left every expensive thing I ever gave her?"
Arthur didn't look at the safe. He walked slowly over to the small display alcove near the closet's vanity. He stared at the empty, circular dust ring on the polished glass shelf.
"She didn't want your money, Nico," Arthur said, his voice controlled but hitting with a strong, punishing intensity. "She never wanted your money."
Arthur pointed to the framed photograph sitting on the vanity—a picture of Nico and Elena on their very first date, huddled together in a cheap diner, smiling genuinely while holding a chipped white coffee mug.
Nico followed Arthur’s gaze, looking at the empty spot beside the frame where the real mug used to sit. The reality of the situation crashed over Nico like a collapsing building. The cold, careless words he had spoken in the study echoed in his mind, deafening and destructive.
May you like
"Everything," Arthur continued, his serious expression filled with quiet, devastating disappointment as he looked directly into Nico’s terrified eyes. "She left everything except the two-dollar mug from the night you first told her you loved her."
Nico stepped back, his broad shoulders hitting the closet wall. The world tilted on its axis. He had spent three years trying to build a fortress of wealth to protect her, but his toxic pride had just driven the only thing he truly loved straight out the door.
