Chapter 9
The sleek, armored black SUV tore through the rain-slicked streets of midtown Manhattan, the engine roaring as Arthur aggressively navigated through the late-night traffic. The neon lights of the city blurred past the tinted windows in cinematic streaks of red and yellow.
Nico sat in the passenger seat, his entire body rigid with agonizing tension. He stared out the windshield, his broad shoulders hunched forward. The sleeves of his charcoal-gray shirt were rolled up, exposing the dark tattoos on his forearms as his hands clenched and unclenched into tight fists. Every second that ticked by on his luxury silver watch felt like a hammer striking his chest.
"Take the avenue, the cross street is jammed!" Nico snapped, his voice sharp with rising panic.
"I am driving as fast as the car allows, Nico," Arthur replied smoothly, his hands steady on the steering wheel, his salt-and-pepper hair perfectly in place. "Panicking will not part the traffic."
Nico let out a harsh, frustrated breath, leaning his head back against the leather headrest. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was the image of Elena packing that old canvas bag, crying alone in the elevator.
"I ruined it, Arthur," Nico whispered, the admission tearing itself from his throat. The mafia boss, feared by hundreds, sounded entirely defeated. "I let the power and the paranoia rot my brain. She was the only pure thing in my life, and I treated her like a transaction. I told her I would forget her."
Arthur merged the heavy SUV violently into the fast lane, cutting off a yellow taxi. "You spent your entire life learning how to be ruthless, Nico. You were taught that emotion is a weakness, that love is a liability that gets men killed. You built a fortress of money and violence to keep yourself safe."
Nico opened his eyes, staring blankly at the wet asphalt. "And I locked her outside of it."
"Yes," Arthur agreed, his gravelly voice completely devoid of judgment now, offering only a hard, necessary truth. "But Elena didn't want a fortress, Nico. She just wanted the man holding the chipped coffee mug. The man who wasn't afraid to bleed in front of her."
The towering, illuminated facade of Penn Station finally came into view through the rain. The massive transit hub was swarming with late-night commuters, tourists, and the homeless. It was a chaotic sea of humanity—the absolute perfect place for a woman with a canvas bag to vanish forever.
"Pull over here!" Nico commanded, unbuckling his seatbelt before the SUV had even come to a complete stop against the curb.
"Nico, wait!" Arthur called out, throwing the car into park. "If you find her, do not order her back. Do not use your authority. If you want her to stay, you have to get on your knees and bleed."
May you like
Nico looked at his oldest friend, his dark eyes filled with a raw, desperate gratitude. "I know."
Nico shoved the heavy car door open and sprinted out into the pouring rain, his dark-brown leather shoes splashing through the puddles as he raced toward the massive glass doors of the station, praying to a God he hadn't spoken to in years that he wasn't too late.
