The Sweetest Oblivion (Made, #1)(106)

An ache cut through my chest.

His forehead rested on mine. Inhaling a breath from between my lips, he kissed me softly. And then he was on his feet, saying he’d be in the garage, before walking out of the room and leaving me cold in his wake.





I’d lain in his bed for two minutes after he left, listening to the tick of a distant clock and letting the cold seep through my skin until a numbness spread.

If I didn’t do it now I never would.

Not if he kept saying things like that to me.

Especially not if he said them as though he’d never been more sure about anything.

With trembling hands, I slipped on a pair of jeans, running shoes, and a jacket while watching through the spare room window. Nico had grease up to his elbows as he walked to his worktable. He hadn’t been in his garage once in the past seven days, but last night he’d said he needed to finish rebuilding the valve train, or something like it. That sounded like a project. Hours, maybe, with Nico busy, without Luca watching me like a hawk. I knew it was the best shot I had.

Digging through my duffel bag, I found the note I’d copied and a letter I wrote months ago and slipped them in my back pocket. My heartbeat matched the patter of my steps as I trod downstairs. I grabbed some cash from the counter and then stopped to eye my cell phone nearby. A strong desire demanded I take it; I told him I would always keep it on me. I also promised not to leave the house without telling him. It felt like I was going to be sick by not listening, but I knew he’d have GPS on my phone.

Leaving out the front, I shut the screen door quietly.

I headed down the steps but froze as my gaze clashed with a man’s, who stood on the porch of the house to the left of us, smoking a cigarette. The neighbor who always had baseball filtering through his open windows. He had the Cosa Nostra in his eyes.

My stomach swam with unease.

He let out a breath of smoke and watched me.

If I didn’t make this look normal I was going to be stopped before I made it to the sidewalk. I gave him the shy Sweet Abelli smile, as though I’d been caught doing the walk of shame. I didn’t think Nico had announced our marriage yet, but it was all over if he had.

After a second, the man gave me a small nod.

The tiniest amount of relief spread through me, but I didn’t trust him yet. He worked for my husband, after all. As I headed down the street in the most normal pace I could muster, his gaze touched my spine with every step. The hair on the back of my neck rose.

Once I was past sight of the house, I speed-walked around the corner to the bus stop. Only two Asian girls and one black man with his headphones in waited. According to my app, the bus was scheduled to be here now, on the dot.

Three minutes passed.

I shifted. Come on.

Two more minutes.

A cold sweat drifted down my spine.

A small part of me believed Nico might have helped me with this if I asked him—but there was also a larger possibility he wouldn’t. And in that case, I would lose the opportunity for good.

I could never forget who my husband was, that if it was his female relative found with a man, Nico would’ve been the one to shoot him in the head.

I could taste the respite when the bus pulled up to the curb with a screeching grind. I climbed on and sat far in the back.

Slipping the ring off my finger, I turned the piece of jewelry in my hands. The relief I believed I would feel was now mixed with regret as I watched home fade from view. But I had to do this, to remove the weight pressing on my shoulders, to right a wrong in the only way I could. I put the ring in my pocket and prayed Nico would understand. He had to.





I stood in front of Francesco’s double green doors. The window was already replaced and most likely now bulletproof. The Closed sign hung in the window and the bread rack sat empty, but when I tried the doorknob it was unlocked.

My eyes adjusted to the dim room. Goose bumps ran up my arms as the memory of rapid gunshots filled my mind. The restaurant was immaculate, however. Nothing to hint at the shooting that had taken place. The clank of pots and pans came from the kitchen and I heard my uncle’s voice amongst the commotion.

As I took a step toward my destination, a girl with a swinging blond ponytail came out of the back room, carrying a tub of new glasses. “Elena. Hi!”

I internally cringed. Her voice was loud enough to be heard in Korea. “Hi, Sarah. Is my uncle around?”

“Yes! He’s in the kitchen. I’ll go get him!”

“No, that’s okay,” I blurted. “I’ll go surprise him.”

“Oh, perfect! Mum’s the word!” She locked her lips and threw away the key. Setting the tub on the bar, she smiled at me like we shared a big secret before disappearing into the back room. Sarah had worked here for a few years. Zio liked to say she was sole che cammina. Walking sunshine. It was the best way to describe her.

No matter the whole display of locking her lips, I didn’t believe she was going to keep quiet long. The secret would burst from her like pure sunlight. Heading into the hallway near the bathroom and private dining rooms, I stopped before a wooden door.

Please be unlocked. Please be unlocked.

The door pushed open and I exhaled, taking the stairs two at a time. The apartment was half the size of the restaurant below and always a bit too warm with how heavily the sun streamed in. I found my way into Zio’s office and sat at his desk.