Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
I watch the ocean disappear behind the trees and think about my family and how much they’ve hurt me over the years.
There is no coming back from what they did to us.
I must be lost in thought because when I look back outside, nothing looks familiar.
My pulse spikes. “Nico?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Where are we going?”
He keeps his eyes on the road, jaw tight. “It’s for your own good.”
What the hell does that mean?
I reach for the door and try to open the door. While jumping from a moving car isn’t going to be fun, I have no idea where he’s taking me, and I’m starting to get scared.
Nothing happens.
“What the hell are you doing, Nico?”
“Like I said before, it’s for your own good.”
“That’s what everyone says right before they do something unforgivable.”
The road narrows and trees grow denser.
“You don’t understand,” he says quietly.
I turn toward him fully now. “Then help me. Because from where I’m sitting, you just kidnapped me.”
His head bobs, but back here, I can’t see his expression. “Boss treats you like shit.”
Heat flares in my chest. Defensive, immediate. “You don’t get to say that.”
“I get to say it because I’ve watched it.” His hands tighten on the wheel. “I’ve watched him cage you and call it protection.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know enough.”
I shake my head, anger and fear tangling. “Unlock the door.”
“I can’t.”
“You won’t.”
The distinction hangs between us.
“My mother was taken once,” he says suddenly.
The words hit like a slap.
“What?”
“One of the Amante brothers,” he continues, voice flat, eyes forward. “Not Lorenzo’s father. The other one. The one nobody talks about.”
Cold slides down my spine.
“He’s dead now,” Nico adds. “But what Lorenzo’s doing to you? It’s the same.”
“That’s not—” My voice cracks, but I force it steady. “You don’t understand. He wouldn’t hurt me.”
“You sound like my mother”—Nico cuts in, not unkindly—“right before she disappeared.”
Silence crashes down.
“Take me back,” I whisper.
“No.”
“Please.” The word slips out before I can stop it. “Nico. Please.”
The car keeps moving. “I won’t let you become another story they bury,” he says softly.
A clearing opens up ahead, and a small cottage sits in front of us.
That’s where the car stops.
My heart pounds. “Where are we?”
“Somewhere safe.”
The doors unlock with a soft click. I step out into the cold and shiver, but not from the chill in the air. No, I tremble because the door opens, and Grant steps out onto the porch.
He smiles when he sees me. The bastard. He thinks this is a happy ending. It’s not.
“Victoria,” he says, stepping forward. “Thank God. I was starting to think—”
“What is he doing here?” I snap, turning on Nico.
“He’s here to help you.”
Help.
I laugh, hollow and sharp. “You think this is help?”
Grant looks back and forth between us, confusion creasing his brow. “Of course I’m here to help. He said you weren’t safe.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I shout.
“I needed to help you.” Grant takes another step toward me.
I shake my head, backing up. “Stop. Don’t come any closer.”
His hands lift. “I’m not here to hurt you.” The words that leave his mouth don’t match the crazed look in his eyes. I’m not safe with him.
I turn to Nico. Maybe I can convince him to change his mind.
And I realize with sick clarity that this man won’t help me. And just as I finally got out of one cage, I’ve moved to a different one. But this one terrifies me.
59
Lorenzo
The gravel crunches under my shoes as I walk the familiar path.
I haven’t been here in months.
It hasn’t felt right to visit. Not with everything that’s been going on with Victoria . . . and even now, it doesn’t, knowing what I now know.
Maybe it will bring me closure.
Her name comes into view, and I stop in front of the headstone.
Angela Rossi
My mother.
I drag a hand through my hair, then lower myself in front of the stone.
“So . . .” My voice sounds rough even to my ears. “This is awkward.”
I’m not even sure what to say. What do you tell your dead mother in a situation like this?
The truth, I guess. No reason to bullshit.
“I got married.”
The words feel weird as they leave my mouth.
I swallow, jaw tightening, and glance away.
This shouldn’t be so hard.
My eyes shut, and I can see the memory of her face.
She’s standing in front of me, arms crossed, watching me. Knowing full well I’m up to no good.
“I married Victoria.” My fingers curl into the grass, dirt pressing beneath my nails. I don’t look at the stone when I say that. I can’t. “I hated you for a long time . . . I didn’t understand how you could keep my family from me.” I take a deep breath. “And then you died. I never even got to speak to you before you did. I had only been gone a month . . . for a long time, I blamed them. Victoria. Her family. Then I blamed you.” I laugh once under my breath. It comes out broken.