31

As soon as Vincent left the house, a heavy sense of loneliness settled in. I knew he’d be back soon, but with both him and Bella gone, the house felt too quiet, too large. Bored and restless, I wandered from room to room, searching for something to occupy my mind.

In Bella’s room, I spotted a book on her nightstand—Birthday Girl by Penelope Douglas. I had heard good things about it, so I decided to give it a shot. I curled up on her bed, diving into the pages. For a while, it worked—I was able to lose myself in the story and momentarily forget the unease tugging at me. But, of course, that didn’t last long.

After a few chapters, I felt the need to take a break. I set the book aside and decided to turn on N*****x. The new season of Bridgerton had been on my list for ages, and it seemed like the perfect distraction. Wrapping myself in one of Bella’s soft blankets, I settled onto the couch and hit play.

The show’s vibrant costumes and romantic drama were engaging, but my attention kept drifting. Frustrated, I paused the episode and glanced around the room, feeling a strange mix of comfort and alienation. This house had been my second home for years, but now, it felt different—bigger, yet emptier, somehow.

I felt like I belonged here more than before, but at the same time, I didn’t.

Feelings were confusing.

I decided to take a walk through the house, hoping it would help me feel more at ease. As I moved from room to room, I touched the familiar furniture and thought of all the memories I had made here with Bella and Vincent . The kitchen, where we’d snacked together late at night; the dining room, where we’d celebrated birthdays and holidays; the living room, where we watched movies and laughed. Even though everything was just as it had always been, it felt different now, somehow.

I couldn’t quite place it.

Maybe it was because the two most important people in my life were gone, leaving me here alone.

Or maybe it was because everything had shifted ever since I slept with my best friend’s dad.

I sighed, frustrated. I needed something to distract me—anything.

Just as I returned to the living room, my phone rang. It was Sophie. I answered it immediately, despite knowing she was probably upset with me for skipping her party the other night.

“Hey, Soph,” I said, trying to sound upbeat.

“Jennifer ! Finally! Where have you been? You totally ditched us at the last party, and it was such a bore without you,” Sophie said, her voice a mix of relief and annoyance. “We missed you.”

“I’ve been… caught up with stuff,” I said, not wanting to go into details about what had been happening with Vincent , especially not about the intimate moments we had shared over the past couple of days, and how badly I wanted more.

“Caught up doing what? Moping around at home?” Sophie teased, but I could hear the concern in her voice. “We miss you, Jennifer . I miss you. Do you even still care about me?”

“Of course I do,” I responded, feeling a sharp pang of guilt. I should’ve sent her a text or something, maybe claimed I was sick, but I couldn’t undo what had already happened. All I could do now was try to play the part of the apologetic friend.

“Then come out with us tonight!” Sophie’s tone brightened. “Everyone’s going to be there. It’ll be fun. You deserve a night out.”

“I’m not sure, Sophie,” I hesitated, thinking about Vincent ’s rules and how he had told me to stay home. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”

“Come on, Jennifer ,” Sophie persisted. “Just one night. You need a break. Plus, it’s not the same without you. I miss having you around.”

I sighed, feeling a mix of guilt and longing. Vincent couldn’t keep me here forever. I was young, and my friends needed me, too. He’d have to deal with that.

I straightened up, feeling a spark of defiance.

“Alright,” I finally agreed with a smile. “I’ll go tonight.”

“Yay! I knew you’d come through,” Sophie cheered. “I’ll text you all the details. Can’t wait to see you!”

“Me neither,” I replied, trying to match her excitement. She always had this energy about her that I could never quite match.

After hanging up, I sat down on the couch, a bit torn. It would be nice to get out of the house and catch up with my friends, but a part of me felt uneasy, like I was doing something wrong.

I decided to focus on getting ready, at least. I went back to Bella’s room to find something to wear.

I pulled on a cute top and a pair of jeans, checking myself in the mirror. It felt good to get dressed up, even though I was still unsure about everything. After one last glance in the mirror, I headed downstairs, ready to face the night.

Sophie had already sent me the details. I glanced at the text, and then an image of her and the rest of our friends popped up.

They were already pre-gaming. I couldn’t help but feel a bit envious of their carefree fun, but I pushed it down. I nodded to myself, mentally preparing for the night.

I was going out, and I would enjoy myself. I’d catch up with my friends and have fun.

I deserved it.

My life wasn’t over just because of whatever drama was going on with Vincent and his mafia past.

Just then, I heard the front door open, and I stepped into the foyer. Vincent walked in, with another man following him. My eyes flicked between the two, feeling a sense of curiosity and suspicion.

“Jennifer ,” Vincent called with a warm tone as he walked toward me. “I want you to meet Anthony .”

Anthony was tall, standing a few inches above Vincent . His short-cropped hair and sharp brown eyes made him look intimidating. His muscular frame spoke of military training, and his arms were covered in tattoos. His gaze swept the room like he was assessing potential threats before resting on me.

He extended his hand, a genuine smile breaking through his stern features. “Nice to meet you, Jennifer . I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hopefully good things,” I replied, shaking his hand.

“Mostly,” Anthony winked. “Vincent can’t stop talking about you.”

I felt my cheeks flush as I looked at Vincent , who offered me a reassuring smile. “Anthony works with me,” Vincent explained.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Anthony added with a laugh. “I’m just here for the free food.”

I chuckled, immediately feeling more comfortable with him. His light-hearted humor made me relax a little.

“Well, I hope you like Italian,” I teased.

“Love it,” Anthony said with a twinkle in his eye. “And if you’re cooking, I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”