I need to talk to Azura alone. I’ll send Nikki off once she has said her goodbye. We have just left the apartment when Corrado and Winona appear at the top of the stairs. Corrado is near tears as Winona struggles to calm him.
“What’s going on?” I ask sharply.
“I want to go to Azura’s!” Corrado frowns. I guess me telling him he couldn’t see her went out the fucking window. They had played together at Marcel’s, and I know he fucking likes her.
“Azura is leaving today. Want to go say goodbye?” Nikki asks him.
“I don’t want her to go,” he whispers, stilling suddenly. Something stirs inside of me as I stare at my son. He has never taken to anyone as he has to her…
Why does she have to be one of them?
“Leo, you coming?” Nikki’s voice brings me out of my reverie.
“Yeah.”
“Alpha.” I turn to look at Winona.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Can I bid her farewell, too?”
“Sure. I don’t get why an entire fucking entourage is needed to get rid of one woman, but fine.” A smile crosses her face as she thanks me, waiting for me to go down the stairs first. I reach the bottom only to see Corrado with his arms around Azura’s neck as she crouches on the floor in front of him, hugging him tightly.
“Please don’t leave, Azura.”
“I’m sorry, kiddo. I got to go,” she replies. Her black hair, which had been put up into a sexy bun, is half out, and my fingers itch to brush it back.
“Please.”
As if sensing me watching her, her large blue eyes snap up to meet mine, eyes that are filled with so much fucking emotion that if Corrado’s voice wasn’t enough, the pain and sadness in her eyes are enough to tug at something deep inside of me. I force myself to look away and turn, smoking my cigarette.
“If you’ve packed, let’s fucking leave.”
You’ll Never Understand
Azura
“Let him say goodbye,” Nikki says, placing her hand on Leo’s arm.
He doesn’t reply, and I hate how he has an effect on me. Why that single touch of Nikki’s squeezes my heart.
Fuck, Azura. This isn’t you.
“Please don’t go yet. How about staying for five more weeks?” Corrado pleads, drawing my attention back to his gorgeous hazel eyes.
“I can’t. I’m sorry,” I apologise softly. Oh, why is this kid making my heart break just like Marcel almost did?
When he loves, he loves deeply.
I push the memory away and smile apologetically at the boy before me.
“Then why not six more weeks?” I let out a breathy laugh.
“You know you’re adding days on top?” I ask, ruffling his hair.
“But I had fun. I want to make a police doll, too…”
My heart clenches, but I can sense Leo’s anger rising and know he is getting impatient or simply annoyed that Corrado is talking to me, but I’m at least glad he let him say goodbye. Maybe the Ice
Prince has a soft spot for his son at least.
“I’ll have one sent to you, okay?”
“What is this?” Nikki’s voice, which is full of disgust, asks.
I turn to see her lift the Leo doll from the bowl of water. It looks a mess with the ink having run all over the fabric.
“Oh, Daddy! That’s the doll that looks like you!” Corrado exclaims, making Leo’s eyes snap to the doll as Nikki looks at it with a look of obvious disgust.
“Eww, why do you have it in water? You’re so weird,” she says, dropping the doll onto the worktop. My eyes flash, and I do my best to remain calm as I stand up and walk over to her. Just because I’ve been nice you, don’t go around calling me weird. I hate the damn word.
“It’s a voodoo doll, made to be tortured,” I explain in an extremely sweet voice that drips with venom before picking it up from the worktop and dunking it back into the water, not caring that water splatters over her. She jumps back, staring at me as if I have lost my mind. I hate how I suddenly feel upset.
I know I am different. I fucking get it, and if voodoo dolls make me happy, then I’ll make them. I don’t need anyone to judge me.
“A voodoo doll,” Corrado says in awe. “Daddy, what is a voodoo doll?” I smile, his words lifting my spirits a little. This is why I like kids best, because they don’t judge you.
Leo comes over. Just the way he walks makes my stomach flutter infuriatingly. One hand in his pocket the other holding his cigarette… his sharp blue eyes are as cold as ice, but they still seem to ignite a fire inside of me. I look away from him as he reaches for the doll, and I brush past him to grab my bag.
“I’m ready to leave,” I declare. I do not want him to examine the doll. I’m sure he’ll realise it is meant to be him.
“Yeah, let’s go. Nikki take Corrado home.”
Home. Their home.
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