𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐨 is back, healthier, and happier (sorta). She spends her life walking and running the streets of New York City knowing her husband, 𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐑𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐨 and three bodyguards are on her side. Funny thing is...
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Nora looks up at me. She has no makeup on, so black isn't running down her face, but her tears are slipping into her mouth as she stutters.
She slurs her words together, "D-dantesaidthatyou—" she hiccups. "—don'tcareabout.... aboutoursafety,"
Tell her the truth, pussy. No. "It's not the first thing on my mind, yeah," I lie.
Fucking shit. Are we going back to square one? Lying to esch other?
"He said you're only worried about yourself and not me so therefore you don't care at all because you know you're safe."
Sweet talk her. "You've been the first thing on my mind since the day I met you."
I've always been good at manipulation. It just feels fucking stupid lying to the woman I fucking love.
"Okay, Zach—but—"
I stop listening when I get a text message from a certain girl that Nora doesn't know about. Her name is Ximena.
Ximena is Dante's cousin and we're using her for some fucked up shit—like me pretending to cheat on Eleonora. I've been afraid to tell Nora about this because she's... how do I say this nicely?
Nicely. Nicely. Nicely. Insecure.
She's insecure, and if I told her a five foot eleven Latina figure skater had to pretend she was having sex with me, she'd probably dig a whole in the core of the earth and throw me in it. Then, she'd wait to hear the splat to make sure i was dead.
I don't even think that would even satisfy her enough. I'm pretty sure she'd then throw a blow torch down there too, even if it meant blowing up the entire planet.
I wouldn't even blame her.
That's all a joke, but I wouldn't put it by her. Eleonora is definitely at her breaking point—she always has been, she just didn't know it until I pushed her to know it.
Dante, Ximena, and I all think whoever came after me is going to put Nora in harms way, so we're going to pretend I don't care about her—at least in public, and I'll being Ximena out with me to clubs and stuff.
It's harmless lying that could only cause harm if it got out. It's not fucking getting out.
Does the Collins girl know about this? — X
Excuse me? Her only job is to pretend she likes me. Why does she feel the need to ask questions?!
I angrily message her back: Don't refer to my wife as the 'Collins girl,' Ximena. You refer to her as her name. If not that, then my wife. She's also no longer a fucking Collins.
You're deflecting. Answer my question, Zachary. I don't like when people beat around the bush like a pussy. — X
My eyebrows narrow. I think Ximena and I might be too alike for this to work out. Just when I'm about to tell her to fuck off, Nora taps my shoulder.
