Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
“I think I’m meant to babysit you tonight. Nino’s worried,” Adamo said.
I shook my head. “Fucking nuisances, all of you.”
“You scared the shit out of me tonight.”
“I hope that wasn’t the first time or I’m doing something wrong.”
“I’ve been scared of you before. When you sent Fabiano after me because of the cocaine. But today I was kind of scared for you.”
“Trust me, Adamo, you have absolutely no reason to be scared for me.”
Adamo frowned. “Is it because of her?”
My brothers seemed intent to test the limit of my patience. “Shut up and drive.”
“Where?”
“Home. Just take us home.”
SERAFINA
Mom and I sat in the garden on a swing, enjoying a warm fall day. I’d been back for only two days, and it was the first time Mom and I were really alone. Our feet gently kicked the ground to keep the swing in motion. Mom held my hand, peering up at the sky.
I knew she had questions but couldn’t ask them, and I wasn’t sure if I could give her answers.
“Why did you give Sofia to Danilo?” I asked eventually to say something.
“It’s not what we wanted, not what Danilo wanted, but we need to bind our families. It’s what’s expected,” Mom said. “And he’s a decent man.”
“You said the same words to me on my wedding day.”
Mom paled but managed a small nod. “I wanted to take away your fears.”
“I know.”
Her blue eyes held mine, filling with anguish. She touched my cheek. “I wanted only the best for you. I wanted happiness. I wanted a man who would carry you on his hands, who showed you kindness like your father did to me.” She looked away briefly, gathering herself. “I can’t imagine the horrors you lived, Fina, but I wish I could have suffered them in your stead.”
“Mom,” I whispered. “It’s not like you all think. I didn’t suffer the way you believe. Remo didn’t force me.”
“Your father didn’t allow me to see the video where he cut you, but I saw the sheets. I see the marks on your throat. Don’t make light of your suffering to make me feel better, love. Don’t.”
She cradled my face, her eyes fierce, determined. She, too, would never understand the extent of my betrayal. My family needed me to be the victim in this.
I wanted to belong, wanted to be part of the Outfit again, but every passing day, it became more obvious that part of me had stayed in Vegas with Remo. People were talking. They did it behind closed doors mostly, but I caught the pitying glances of the bodyguards and maids. All my life people had regarded me with admiration and respect, and now I was someone to pity. They didn’t know I wasn’t the victim, not in the sense they all thought.
And I had been shielded from attention so far. I hadn’t left the house, hadn’t attended any social gatherings, but eventually I’d have to make an appearance or the speculations would rise even higher. I needed to show them that I wasn’t hiding, that I had no reason to hide.
More than three months since Remo had kidnapped me. More than four weeks since he’d set me free—body not soul. Sometimes I managed to forget him for a few minutes, only to be reminded with a crushing force, but it was getting better. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe Remo’s brainwashing was ceasing. Maybe I could be free one day.
Today my family would return to the public, would show strength, would show that we weren’t broken, that I wasn’t. It was Dad’s fiftieth birthday, and the party had been planned for almost a year, a splendid feast with family and friends, with Underbosses and Captains.
My parents had considered calling the party off, but I had convinced them to celebrate. Life had to go on.
Dante, Valentina, and the kids were staying with us as well, and I was excited to see them again. I busied myself helping Mom prepare for the party these last few weeks, needing to distract myself, trying to ignore the nagging fear at the back of my head that grew louder every day.
I stared up at the ceiling in my room. It was already late, and I needed to choose a dress, get ready, and help Mom, but I couldn’t move. For the last two hours I lay motionless, except for my shallow breathing.
I’d got my period the last week of August. It was the end of October now. My fingers traced my belly, terrified, immobilized.
Slowly, I got out of bed and perched on its edge for a long time, letting a horrible realization fill my bones. Two months since my last period. Closing my eyes, I swallowed. I’d never taken the pill during my time with Remo, and he had never used protection, wanting to claim me without that barrier between us. I stared up at the ceiling, praying that it wasn’t true. It would be the end of all my hopes, of everything.