[ S E R A P H I N E ] It's been a few days since that yacht party. I hope he's not pissed that I'm showing up an hour late. Where is he? Why does he want us to meet here? This looks like a high-end jewelry shop. The gilded doors alone look like they cost more than everything I own. I stand outside the shop, the late afternoon sun bathing the quaint store in a warm glow. I'm waiting for my phone to ring while peeking at the sparkling displays of gemstones and metals. Maybe he chose this place since it's near the country club. It doesn't look crowded inside. Only four people are browsing the impressive selection of bespoke jewelry, but I still don't want to go inside by myself. I can't seem to get rid of the tension inside me. Can't just walk it off or sit it out like a random tummy ache. I hold my breath when my phone dings with a new message from Dominico, asking me if I'm nearby. I reply with a short text: [ I'm outside the store. White shirt. ] Clasping my satchel, I watch
[ S E R A P H I N E ] Long shadows dim our path as we exit the store, the sun dipping lower in the sky. The warmth of the evening feels nice, unlike the terrifying reality his suspicions are forcing me to wrap my head around. We walk away from the picturesque sidewalk with Dominico glancing over his shoulder. Before we reach the Maserati, he looks behind one more time and puts his arm around my back. Like he's waiting for some sketchy guys to pop up out of nowhere and kidnap me. Just thinking it could happen makes my insides churn. My legs and feet are overworked after that ten-hour shift, but my brain can't seem to process most of the pain. I just know I need a quiet, private space where I can regroup my thoughts before we go anywhere else. “Hey. I-I really don't mind taking the bus. You don't have to drive me to the...” “Stay close.” “Why?” I almost glare at my “date” and stand beside his ride. Should I give him gas money now? Or just let him escort me all evening like a hire
[ S E R A P H I N E ]“Are you home?”“Just got home.”“Oh. Okay.” So his house is only an hour away from here. Is he still alone? Parking the Maserati in his garage? How many cars does he own? A trust fund kid like him probably has a few luxury cars at the very least. “D'you need something?” His voice sounds slightly hoarse, his tone laced with concern.“A whole day just for sleeping. A two-week paid vacation.”“Why're you still up? I told you to rest.”Lying on my back with the lights off, I smile at the concern behind his short semi-rant. I'm already in my room, all showered and about to doze off. Yet I can't stop thinking about him and the things we've talked about. “I'm trying.”Dominico sighs on the other end, as if he's getting annoyed that I called him too soon. “Get off the phone. Turn it off and sleep.” “You're startin' to sound like my dad.” “We're meeting up tomorrow. Can't have you cranky and hating me all day.”Hating him? “Tomorrow? Why?” Are we going on another "dat
[ S E R A P H I N E ]I have 39 minutes left. Where the heck is he? Does he think I have a two-hour lunch break? Maybe a CFO like him does. “Must be nice,” I mutter under my breath. If he doesn't show up in five minutes, I'm heading back to the staff lounge. I don't really want to, but at least it's safer there. Too crowded in case his father tries to corner me and harass me again. Too many witnesses. Too many mouths to silence. The creep might just have second thoughts about trying to cop a feel again.I cringe at the memory. I still remember every second. Some nights, my brain loves to replay those horrible ten seconds as if to remind me that I still have feelings. That I've been wronged. Mistreated. Humiliated. Victimized.But, no. I refuse to feel like a victim. Nope. Not now. Our one and only family business is in the red. About to go bankrupt, in fact, if we don't do something drastic soon. I don't have the luxury of taking a couple days off. To recover. To recharge. To do s
[ S E R A P H I N E ]This ring is gorgeous. Subtle but elegant. Marquise cut. At least one carat, I'm guessing.No doubt it's a real diamond. I've told him to just buy something cheap. Obviously he doesn't want me to wear a fake.I don't know how he actually knows my size. I didn't try any of the rings in that store. Nor do I remember him asking.Shoot. This is actually happening. We're engaged now. Engaged! Jeez... What's gotten into him? A bouquet and a fake proposal in broad daylight? In front of all these people?Is he drunk? No, he can't be. He doesn't look or smell intoxicated. Maybe it's some kind of PTSD or paranoia? Or is he going off the rails? We stare at each other, putting on our best happy-new-couple smiles, ignoring the noise around us while he gets up to stand in front of me again. Dominico steps closer, his gaze unwavering. Almost unnerving. I don't back away or get rid of my smile. I want to, but I can't cry on cue, so... This will have to do. “I can't believe yo
[ S E R A P H I N E ]I think I need to run. Hide. Go somewhere foreign and remote where no one knows a thing about me. Dominico won't say it to my face. But only because he thinks it will trigger a panic attack, or something worse.I don't need him to tell me my suspicions are true. I already know I'm in dire straits. I heard too much that night, and his father knows. Why else would Dominico tell his bodyguard to keep an eye on me?The tub is almost full, though I'm not sure a cold bath will do anything to calm my mind. The sound of the faucet running echoes as I try to silence my thoughts.Next to the white tub, I stretch my neck and back. I wince at the aches in my muscles. It's more or less the cortisol from all the stress. The anxiety. The sleepless nights...A buzzing noise disrupts the silence as I'm untying my robe. I rush to the sink and grab my phone, only to frown at another text from Dominico:[ Call me if you hear or notice anything strange. ]Strange? Like what? A broke
[ S E R A P H I N E ] Nothing makes sense in this unhinged universe anymore. I'm in the passenger seat, buckled up and losing myself, heart pounding as the road blurs before us. My suitcase is in the trunk. It's full of clothes and probably a third of my personal belongings. Dominico's behind the wheel, driving us out of the city. Fico, his bodyguard, is right behind me, sitting alone in the backseat. Paolo is driving the other car. Dominico's matte gray SUV. I don't know where exactly we're going. I just know we're heading northeast. “Dom.” “What?” he says without even glancing my way. “Are we going to Milan?” “No. Trento.” “Trento?” Whoa. That's about four hours away. I've never been there. It's a cold city known for old castles, museums, beautiful mountain peaks and lake views, and for being the third largest Italian city in the Alps. “My friend owns a private property there.” “A house?” “Villa,” Dominico replies flatly. I nod, making guesses in my head as to why he won'
[ S E R A P H I N E ] It's past ten in the morning. I feel shitty. Drained. Battered. I probably look worse. It's viral. I know it. “Go back to sleep. Sleep is good,” I murmur to myself, wiping my runny nose. My skin is feverish especially my neck, armpits, and the insides of my thighs. My stomach feels off. My eyes and tongue feel hot, too. My body's giving up on me, and I feel guilty because it's mostly my fault. I haven't been minding my health the past few months. My diet's been poor, and I haven't been working out. I don't even recall the last time I had a solid eight hours of sleep in a day. No idea how Dominico manages to look that ripped and strong on barely five hours of sleep. It's probably genetics. Or he compulsively works out every single day. I need a copy of his diet plan and workout routine. Stat. “Ugh.” I feel like my eyes got stung by a bee while I was unconscious. My throat aches, too, like the rest of my body. I didn't cry myself to sleep, though. Dominico man
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “One last sheet. One last,” I sigh to myself, stretching my aching back as I recline. Looks like I'm still alone out here. I'm sitting by the pool, enjoying the gorgeous pink-orange sunset while waiting for Dominico to finish working. I stare at my laptop screen. I'm almost done with my work for the day, but my focus is split, already dwindling. Some mornings, I don't even feel like checking my emails. But I can't just quit now. I don't wanna feel like a freeloader or look for another job. Dominico can take care of me and provide our baby's needs. I know. But I don't want him to think I'm getting too comfortable. He's still upstairs, probably not done with their virtual meeting. “Emergency board meeting,” he told me an hour ago. Dom's been working from home all week. The new virus is still wreaking havoc all over the country. It's starting to scare me and Mamma, actually. Dominico agreed to stay home because he doesn't want to risk it. Our health and our b
[ D O M I N I C O ] “Look, Freja. It's my own money. And this isn't a loan. You don't have to pay me back. Okay?” Do I sound like an arrogant douche? I hope not. I sit back and buckle up, dying to get home. Freja’s tear-streaked face stays on the edge of the screen. The gray skies outside her window match the somber look in her eyes. She dabs at her pinkish cheeks, trying to put the waterworks on pause. It's not that she's been blindsided by her ex-husband's death. The sudden loss and grief. She knew what she was getting into the moment she agreed to be his wife. But it's not really her fault that she can't give her child a better life right now. I can't undo any of my father's actions or rewrite the past. But I could at least make sure that she and her kid won't struggle for another couple of years. “I just wired you the money.” “Thank you,” she murmurs with weak nods. I glance at the damp road. “Should cover tuition and some bills. If you need more, just call or text
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “We were gonna tell you. I-I just…” Just what? Forgot that I exist? That I have feelings, too? That I'm her best friend and they should've told me they're... Sheesh! I don't even wanna imagine what they've been up to. “Just what? It just slipped your mind?” Pierre glances at me, still can't look me in the eye. Like he knows how hurt I am. He should. This is like... It's betrayal. Right? I'm their best friend! I have the right to feel this way. “You just conveniently forgot?” My voice wavers. The odd numbness in my core spreads down my legs. Shucks. Breathing feels like a chore now. “Was it that hard to send me a text? Pick up the phone and just give me a call?”I probably sound hysterical. Overdramatic. I really don't care. I glare at Pierre, trying to dismiss the shock and hide the barely repressed anger. But I'm sure it looks like I'm failing miserably at it. Pierre sighs briefly, his hands on his hips. He's staring at the ground. Like he can't be bother
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “Hey. Alfeo looks more buff. Like, he looks bigger than you now.” Must be because Alfeo isn't taller and often wears clothes that flaunt his broad shoulders. I sit up on the bed, ogling my hot baby daddy as he walks out of the bathroom. “Is he taking anything? Steroids, or...” Dom snickers, glancing at me while he dries his hair with a black towel. After locking the door, he grabs a few clothes from his closet. “Why? Couldn't ask him yourself?” I scratch the back of my head. I don't know what his best friend's been up to lately. I haven't seen Alfeo in months. But I'm glad that he's not too busy to hang out with us. Maybe he's bulking up to impress a girl. Or girls? Not that it bothers me. He's always gonna be welcome here. Dominico still trusts him with his life. And no matter what his family thinks, Alfeo is still his most loyal friend. “Is he dating someone?” Dom scoffs and scrunches up his nose. It's straight, but the tip is a little bulbous, not too f
[ D O M I N I C O ] Are they downsizing? Or my dad's running out of payola? What even is this room? This is much smaller than the well-guarded room they let us use before. Smells like dried piss and sweat, too. Unlike the last time I was here, the prison guard stands behind the door. Just one. No weapon in sight, but I bet my left kidney he's carrying at least two. I sit down in front of the divider, surprised that the only prisoner I'm visiting agreed to see me today. I know he's still pissed that I didn't come by much sooner. That I didn't show up the last time he told me to be here. He wanted me to deliver more hush money, and of course more cash for his protection. And he's probably more pissed that I didn't help Ricchar Falco find his missing uncle. Stefano. The disgraced shipping mogul. The big-time swindler who ran off with the redhead. Daddy Dearest's former number one whore. Only because the bitch impressed him in and out of the sack. Glancing at the tall, dusty walls,
[ S E R A P H I N E ]What if Leandro found out about everything we did, all the sleuthing I tried, and the heap of evidence we contributed to the investigation, and then he got furious enough that he...Any way you look at it, my theory isn't farfetched. The guy's got motive. I don't wanna be the one to dwell on these negative thoughts. But we should consider the possibility. My privacy, my career, and my family's safety might be compromised.I'm pretty sure he's not here in Florence. Yet the feeling that he's somewhere near won't leave my head. Even now. Here in Dominico's house, a well-guarded private property in a gated neighborhood. I feel exposed. A little vulnerable. Even though I'm so much safer here with Dominico and Mamma keeping an eye on me. Plus the security staff guarding the property 24/7."Okay. I'll talk to Enzo again," Dom mumbles before reaching for my hand, giving it a light squeeze before he lets out a breath. Regrets and some frustration replace the pent-up anger
[ S E R A P H I N E ] I step out of the bathroom, my skin still warm from the shower. I took a quick one just to help me relax. To help me fall back to sleep. I'm not sure if it will. The rain outside taps lightly against his windows, an almost soothing rhythm that contrasts the weight of my thoughts. Although I'm wearing a robe, I feel the chill in the air as I walk towards his bed, my footsteps quiet. Dom's still wide awake like I guessed. He's sitting on the wrinkled covers, his attention fixed on his phone. As I approach him, he sets his phone down, and his heavy-lidded gaze shifts to my face. I sit close to him and try to ignore the tension in the air. It's not the same awkwardness I felt right after I tried to kiss him for the first time. It's something else. Can't quite put my finger on it. But it's nothing we can't address. I'm sure. “Hey.” “Feel better?” “A little.” I put on a smile. I hold onto his forearm when he goes back to reading some emails. ”Babe, that ema
[ D O M I N I C O ] Shit. I almost tore the label off. Cracked and nearly broke the cap into pieces, too. It's not clumsiness, though. I'm too distracted. Tired. Impatient. Frustrated. With caution, I press down a strip of tape over the torn label, running my thumb across it to smooth out the small creases. I can't just look up the right dosage on the internet. This label is practically the only thing helping me keep track of the proper dosage. I reach for the roll of tape again. I tear about an inch off the roll. Right after I put the bottle away, soft shuffling noises behind me interrupt me before I can get rid of the clutter on the counter. I look up and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Seraphine is standing at the bathroom door, just a couple of steps away, her eyes wide and unfocused. She's wearing the blue shirt I gave her before she went to sleep. There's some tension in her posture. Why is she out of bed? I turn to face her and put down the roll of tape near
[ D O M I N I C O ] “Cara, dico solo che...” [Dear, I’m just saying...] “Sì?” [Yes?] I tilt my wine glass, sitting back and interrupting my stepmother again. I don't have to keep my mouth shut. I already know how uncomfortable Seraphine feels. Trying to sit still beside me, she takes a small bite of bread and stares at Mamma, who's seated across from us and not really minding the food on her plate. Rain still patters on the windows. But it shouldn't turn into something worse. This should be a calm, quick, easy dinner. Unless Mamma brings up what happened last night. If that happens, Seraphine will probably... “Sephie, è più prudente se tu rimani qui ora.” [It's safer if you stay here for now.] My stepmother is talking a bit slower now, dragging her vowels. She drops her delicate smile, then sets down her fork with a soft clink. “Non preoccuparti, Mamma. Porto sempre una mascherina extra nel caso mi dimenticassi di indossarne una,” Seraphine replies with a polite smile, her vo