Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
When she asked me earlier this evening to let her go when it was over, that, too, stirred my humanity, a thing I thought dead for too long. I understand her. But that’s as far as this can go.
“You’re going to take everything from us,” she says.
I clench my jaw. If my brother were here, he’d tell me to get my head out of my ass. To remember the endgame. Would he be moved by her?
“What you asked for earlier,” I start, pausing. Processing my own words. “I will give you that. I will set you free. You and Emma.” I hear the heavy thudding of my own heart and wonder what the fuck I’m thinking. Saying. Doing. Because I know I won’t break my promise to her. To anyone.
A crease forms between her brows. She’s trying to puzzle out whether or not I’m lying.
“You have my word,” I add.
She blinks, then looks down at the contract, at Bruno’s outstretched hand with the pen. She turns once more to me, still trying to gauge the truth before taking the pen and signing her name.
24
Vittoria
He will let us go. I have to hold on to that. It’s a scrap, but I’ll take it. The glimpse of Emma’s face beside Bastian’s was startling. He’d caught her just as she’d turned her shadowed eyes to the camera, awe and fear making them wide. Making the shadows that she’s too young to bear darker.
I stand just inside Amadeo’s bedroom in the Ravello house. After the ceremony and the signing away of my life, a helicopter came to carry Amadeo and me here. He instructed Oaf to take me to his bedroom and disappeared into another part of the house to deal with a call.
Emma is on her way. I have to focus on that. She’s on a flight now with Hyacinth. They got her without having to hurt anyone. Although Amadeo was vague about that part.
I’m so grateful Hyacinth is with her. She’ll be able to soothe her at least. Although the poor woman must be terrified herself. She is the live-in nanny my father hired to look after Emma once Mom died. She’s in her early fifties and like a young grandmother to Emma.
I look around, then go into the bathroom to wash my face. His room is luxurious. A master suite bigger and more opulent than I’ve ever seen. The bedroom is decorated tastefully with antique furnishings and modern comforts, and an unbelievable view into the horizon that is disturbed only by the magenta of bougainvillea that clings to the banister on the balcony.
The bathroom is all marble and glass, twice the size of any at our penthouse. I splash water on my face now and pat it dry as I take myself in on this, my wedding day. I don’t make a beautiful bride with my uncombed hair, the waves unbound and wild down my back, shadows beneath my eyes, and my skin drawn and paler than is natural. I’ve lost a few pounds since the funeral. Since before it. And it shows on my face.
But it doesn’t matter. Emma will be with me in a matter of hours.
I hear the bedroom door open and Amadeo’s voice as he relieves Oaf of the duty of guarding me. When the bedroom door clicks closed, I open the one to the bathroom and stand in the frame. I look at my husband.
He’s wearing slacks and a button-down shirt with the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. I see that tattoo. Dandelions. He has remembered that small detail for all these years. A significant enough detail for him to tattoo it into his skin. I was their mark when I was only five years old. They always meant to take me, use me to make my family pay. He finishes what he was doing on his phone and tucks it into his pocket. My heartbeat picks up when his eyes meet mine.
“How long until they’re here?” I ask, avoiding what this night is. What has to happen.
“Not long.”
“You said I could FaceTime with her.”
“She’s asleep.” He takes out his phone, walks toward me, and shows me the screen. I read the exchange between him and his brother. Amadeo asking how it’s going. Bastian saying fine, that she’s been quiet, which I knew she would be, and that Emma has finally fallen asleep.
I’m disappointed, but I have to accept it. It’s just a few more hours.
“Will they come here? Or will we go to the Naples house?”
“Here.”
I nod, thinking about the promise he made at the church. It surprised me that he made it at all. I don’t know what I expected. But then his vow rings in my ears. Until death do us part. My death? He could have easily lied about letting Emma and I go to get me to sign the papers. He could have forced my signature. Since I signed those papers, all he really needs is to keep me alive until I turn twenty-one. Just a few more days. He’ll need to show proof of life, but after, it won’t matter. It’s not like anyone will speak out to help me then.