Page 69 of Of Oaths and Secrets

I came here expecting magic—expecting something more between us. Instead, I’m left with this hollow feeling, wonderingif I’m asking for too much. Wondering if Rafaele will ever be able to give me what I so desperately want.

Don’t be dramatic, Nora. This is just the reality check you need.My mother’s voice chimes in my mind.

As the final note of the opera fades into silence, the audience erupts into applause. I join in, clapping politely, but my heart isn’t in it. The ache inside me overshadows the beauty of the performance. I feel Rafaele’s hand rest gently on my back as we rise to leave, but the sting of earlier still lingers. I shift, subtly moving away from his touch.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him frown, but I keep my gaze forward, determined to avoid his concern. When he reaches for my hand, I instinctively fold my arms over my chest, creating a barrier between us.

“Nora?” he says quietly, his voice low, confused.

I force a small smile, looking up at him, though I can feel the coldness in my own expression. "Thank you for the show. It was stunning."

He tilts his head slightly, studying me with those dark, unreadable eyes. “You’re welcome,” he replies, but there’s a tension in his voice that tells me he knows something is off.

Without another word, I step ahead of him, moving through the crowd, feeling his presence like a shadow at my back. As we exit the grand hall into the cool night air, I quicken my pace, craving space, but no matter how far I try to distance myself, the heaviness in my chest remains.

Rafaele catches up, his hand gently grasping my arm, turning me to face him. “Don’t walk away from me.” His tone is harsher than he means, and I flinch.

He sighs, softening slightly. “No, I didn’t mean it like that?—”

“No, you’re right,” I interrupt, pulling my coat tighter around me like a shield. “Let’s just get the car and go.”

“Nora, what’s wrong?” His voice is low and probing, but the tension between us is growing.

“Nothing,” I lie softly, but the shakiness in my voice betrays me. “I’m just tired.”

His jaw clenches, frustration simmering in his eyes. “Tired?”

I nod, determined to keep up the pretense. “Yes. Tired.”

“Right.” One word, but it’s dripping with frustration, and I can feel it cutting between us.

I turn away, pretending the passing cars are the most fascinating thing in the world as Rafaele hands the ticket to the valet. He places his hand on the small of my back again, but I instinctively step away.

“Can you not?” I mutter. “Who do you need to pretend for?”

His frown deepens, confusion mingling with irritation. He doesn’t respond until we’re in the car, where I expect him to drive off, but instead, he parks just down the street and keeps the engine running.

“Raf—”

“You see the man coming down the stairs?” His voice is tense.

I follow his gaze to the overweight man wearing a Borsalino hat.

“That’s Fabrizio Marzoni,” Rafaele continues. “He hates me. I took his business, and I know he’s waiting for a weakness.”

I shake my head, annoyed. “I’m not your weakness.”

“Whether you are or not is irrelevant. It’s what he’ll perceive,” he growls.

“Can we just go, please?”

He exhales sharply but complies, pulling away from the curb. Silence stretches between us for a long time before he speaks again, his voice low, almost defeated. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” I reply after a beat, staring out the window. “I just forgot who you were for a moment.”

Rafaele’s knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. “Nora?—”

“My mother warned me,” I continue, bitterness creeping into my tone.

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