[ S E R A P H I N E ] It must be the new job. Moving into another apartment. The big adjustments I'm being forced to make. And constantly stressing over my growing list of deadlines. Or the fact that my brain's not letting me sleep much lately because of my lying, duplicitous, manipulative ex number two who's not even making an effort. Or it's all of the above. Probably. “Serves you right.” I sigh and keep my eyes closed, burying my face in my pale, clammy hands. I lean against the door to the backseat as the sun heats the top of my head. My neck feels strained more than usual. My vision's kind of foggy. Crap. I need a bed. Pronto. Or a stretcher, at some point. My legs and arms feel like they're tired of having bones. “Shoot. Crap.” Pierre's cellphone is now lying between my boots. I didn't mean to drop it. Ugh. I hope I didn't crack anything. I pick up his phone and slide it into my pocket. Calling Dominico is my last resort, but I might have to try. Just thinking of
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “How much?” “About half.” I squint at Pierre as I sit across from him, trying to look normal, keeping my hands steady as I pick at the food on my plate. It's not a lot. This pesky nausea has been messing with my appetite since Friday. “Just a little above four hundred. ” “Good. Half's paid off and it's not goin' up.” Pierre sighs briefly, sounding genuinely relieved by my answer. “Dad sorted out the principal with his inheritance. I mean, what's left of it.” Thanks to my grandparents, rest their generous souls, my parents are no longer that worried about the bank loans. I still think most of the Tomassinis are too greedy to be offering business loans to small-to-medium enterprises. But it's not like I can turn back time and undo all of my parents' poor financial decisions. “And Dominico told you Ignazio no longer co-owns the bank. Correct?” “His nephew owns most of his shares now.” Pierre leans back and stares at me while staining his fork with th
[ S E R A P H I N E ] While Pierre is alone at the bar taking care of the bill and finishing his drink, I unlock his convertible and get in the passenger seat. I toss my phone on top of the dashboard. Then I pull a few napkins from the glove compartment. I blow my nose, the back of my head on the headrest, my eyes closed. Sheesh. I'm done. I have no more tears left in me. I'm just spent. Exhausted. Oddly, some part of me feels at peace. Ugh. Great... Now I'm just an emotional dumpster fire. Darn this. I don't know what to tell Dominico. The heck do I even say? “Hi. I hope you're okay?” or “I'm still miserable. How's everything?” Crap. This is gonna be the most awkward phone call ever. I don't even know if he's gonna pick up after he realizes it's me calling. Do I miss him? A lot. Do I want to hear his voice again? Of course. Do I need him and his sympathy? Yes and yes. But do I trust my feelings right now? Not exactly. I can't put this off another day. Or anoth
[ S E R A P H I N E ] I can't believe he's here already. Here in my new workplace, especially. Who told him exactly where I am and where I work? Pierre? Or Dominico hired a private investigator to find me? Not farfetched at all, knowing his connections. “Three months and two days.” Dominico closes the door behind him, his brows and forehead creasing. “I'm done.” Shoot. No escaping this now. I toss my phone on my messy desk and sigh, my throat and chest growing tighter by the second. Just the look on his face... Darn. It hurts. The guilt's eating at me again, practically clawing under my skin. Although he looks like he hasn't slept for days, he still looks well-groomed. A bit too dressed up for an impromptu "dinner date". Still manly everywhere despite his longer hair. Given his bigger list of responsibilities, I understand why he hasn't found the time to get a haircut. I like it, though. It reminds me of the very first time I bumped into him at the country club. A year
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “Really sorry, guys. Forgot to cut the meeting short.” I kiss my father on the cheek while he gives me a hug. “It's fine, Dad. We just got here, like, twenty minutes ago.” Daddy Raffy scratches the side of his head, ruffling the gray hairs above his ears. Wearing an old polo shirt and khaki pants, he smiles at us as Dom shakes his hand. I put on a big smile for him and my mom who's now putting rice on Daddy's plate. “Told Dom not to drive too fast.” “You left Boniventura around nine?” “Opo, Tito.” [Yes, Uncle.] Dom steps away from Dad. “Sephie said you called for a staff meeting.” “Yes. Took longer than I expected. Our new accountants are fastidious, to say the least.” Daddy Raffy chuckles and takes the empty seat beside my mom. “Good that you didn't get stuck in the rush hour traffic.” “Not really.” I give Dominico a small smile when our gazes meet. I'm still nervous and not too excited about this late dinner with my parents, but I'm relieved that th
[ D O M I N I C O ] The night is dead quiet as the car glides through the narrow roads. I'm getting cold, even though the windows remain shut. There's some tension between us again. I'm sure it's not just me feeling tense. We're still in the backseat, but I'm not comfortable with my bodyguards sitting in the front, probably eavesdropping. I press a button on my armrest. The tinted partition slides up and hides us almost immediately. I sit back and glance at her. Seraphine is half-slumped against the door, her face pale, eyes distant. Obviously maintaining eye contact is difficult for her at the moment. I get it, though. The question I asked her earlier is probably one she didn't expect to hear today. I'm itching to hear a real answer from her, but it's obvious that I'll need to pry it out of her myself in a more private setting. The memory and noises of her retching outside my car just minutes ago lingers, and it's turning into a gnawing feeling that keeps telling me somethi
[ D O M I N I C O ] I want to talk it out of her. Ask her questions I need answers to. Barge into her room. Apologize and do something to fix this mess. But my feet won't move. I'm rooted to the same spot I've been standing in since she walked out after slapping some sense into me. I should leave now. Leave her be. Not bother her for a day or two. Except I don't want to leave. Shit. I think I blew it. Again. But am I the asshole for asking what any sane, educated person would've assumed? Why is she this upset? Because she thinks I'm being too intrusive? It's a simple yes or no question. I just wanna know if she and Pierre actually planned this. Having a baby this soon. Or he got her pregnant by accident? Pretty sure he's the culprit. I was careful last time. Extra careful, in fact. We used protection that night. We had sex one last time an hour before Sephie left to meet up with Alina, but we were still careful then. We didn't forget the rubber, even though I di
TW: Mentions and graphic descriptions of kidnapping, assault, SA, murder, and other violent behaviors/crimes. Graphic content below intended for mature readers only! Read at your own risk. [ S E R A P H I N E ] “Ti stai divertendo, bella?” [You having fun yet, beautiful?] Despite the thick cloth hiding my eyes, I glare at the heavy, calloused hand on my thigh. It's Leandro Tomassini. Enzo's brother. Sitting right beside me. Having too much fun terrorizing me. Taunting me any way he can. Although I've only seen him in person a few times, I recognized his deep, slightly husky voice the moment he spoke, after three of his goons plucked me off that quiet and dim street. “Smettila di toccarmi.” [Stop touching me.] “Ooh... Ne abbiamo una esuberante, ragazzi.” [We got a feisty one here, boys.] Although my muscles and heartbeat remain tense, I stay put and keep my breathing steady. I flinch when his fingers start drawing random curves on my knee. I hate how warm and gentle he'