Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
I stare at the note scribbled on a doctor’s prescription pad, my pulse pounding.
Lucia wrote that.
Lucia, who carries secrets like weights around her neck.
Lucia, who’s been terrified of attachments since the day we met.
Lucia, who pushed me away because she believed it was the only way she could protect someone she’s been protecting long before we met.
Giovanni’s protective stance makes him seem taller. “This isn’t just about you and Lucia. It isn’t even about you, Lucia, and Camille. There’s something else, something she’s afraid to tell anyone. Even you, Dante.”
I swallow hard, but the truth still seeps out. “I know.”
Leaning back, he folds his arms across his chest. “You have the right to leave this life. You’ve earned it. But you need to ensure Lucia can do the same. She may not be ready to choose as you are. She may not be free to make that choice. If you walk away without understanding what burden she’s carrying, you could make things worse.”
His worry is the exact reason I made the decision I did. The “choice” he’s referring to should only rest on Lucia’s conscience.
But I understand how hard a decision like this is to make when you’ve had the rules drummed into you since birth.
“I’ll talk to her.”
Giovanni dips his chin in appreciation before he nudges it to the door, encouraging me to bite the bullet now.
It’s time to ensure Lucia knows I’m not just choosing her. I’m choosing everything about her.
The good, the bad, and the ugly.
Chapter 37
Dante
The lemon grove is quiet when I enter it. I didn’t have to search for Lucia. I knew where she’d be the instant Giovanni showed me the note. She told Valentina to meet her here if she wanted help to flee. The suggested time is earlier than suggested, but once I saw Camille alone, the groves called me to them.
My chest tightens when I spot Lucia in the bottom row, closest to the road. Her shoulders shake as she glares down at her phone, her hope barely held together by a thread.
When a twig snapping under my foot alerts her to my presence, she spins to face me. Her expression guts me. It’s brimming with devastation and fear.
“Dante… what are you doing here?” She wipes at her cheeks, endeavoring to erase the evidence that she’s upset before I can see it.
It’s too late for that.
“Did someone hurt you?”
Her brows furrow as some of her panic shifts to confusion. “No. I just…”
When her words trail off, the context of the note plagues me with insecurities. “Weren’t expecting me?”
She’s lost until I show her the note scribbled messily in her handwriting.
Shame floods her eyes when I say, “Giovanni will never hurt Valentina. She’s here because she wants to be here.”
“I know that,” she whispers, her lips quivering. “I saw them together at breakfast… gosh.”
“Then why did you give her the note?”
Her expression tells me she wants to be anywhere else, but since her options are limited, her feet remain planted. “That was before…” Her lips twitch, but no other words come out.
“Before?” I ask, pushing for more, needing more.
“Before I…” Her following words come out with a disbelieving chuckle. “Before I realized I was falling for you.” A fat, salty blob dots her cheek. “But none of that matters now. Nothing matters except…” A sob gargles the remainder of her reply.
As she blinks back tears, her breath stutters. She appears seconds from collapse. I reach her in two strides, and although she doesn’t fall, there are only pieces of her for me to clutch. She’s broken. Destroyed. Her fragileness is so high I’m afraid I may break her beyond repair if I clutch her too hard.
Her tremors run through my body when I hold her close, sheltering her from the pain wreaking havoc with more than her emotions. “What happened?”
After shaking her head, she hides her terrified eyes in my pecs. I’m afraid the walls we tore down are building faster than I can knock them down until she says, “I can’t tell you.”
There’s a big difference between can’t and don’t want to.
“Lucia—”
“No,” she says, reading me as only she can. I was about to tell her those rules don’t apply to her anymore. “I can’t. If I say something, he’ll…”
A gut-wrenching hiccup finalizes her reply, but I keep pressing. I can’t protect her if I have no clue what is hurting her.
“I know you’re married, so if that’s what this is about, you can stop now. I don’t give a fuck what that piece of paper is meant to signify. If you don’t want to be with Edoardo, you have the right to say so. If the Cosa Nostra won’t listen to what you want, I’ll make them. I won’t stop until your rights match mine.”
Lucia jerks back as if I struck her, her eyes blowing wide with shock—real shock, not the fake kind someone gives when they’re busted in a lie.