[ 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
[ D O M I N I C O ]What a complete fucking waste of my entire morning. I just drove for hours and wasted two more for jack shit.Not that I expected much. But, am I the idiot for thinking these people would be able to help me in some way?They're the big bosses. They call the shots. But apparently I'm asking too much because I'm expecting they'll locate that fucking shipment soon. This weekend, preferably.Both the daily and the updated weekly logs say that the missing container was lodged onto one of their ships. A pretty old freighter. But now they can't seem to find any record of that cargo ever leaving the ship.“Torniamo a Trentino?” [Are we going back to Trento?] Fico opens the door to the passenger seat and regards me with squinting eyes. He smells like an ashtray, like always. But he's someone I can trust with my life.“Sì.” [Yes.] I glare at the tall buildings in front of us. The dewy, crisp morning air doesn't do anything to lull the urge to hit something. I pinch the brid
[ S E R A P H I N E ] I should be sleeping. Resting. Letting my body recover. Helping my immune system do its job faster. But my brain won't let me. For about six hours now, I've been trying to go back to sleep. Nothing's doing the trick. Listening to relaxing music with headphones on is only doing half of the job. Spending three hours taking dozens of pictures and filming myself getting half-naked in the bathroom didn't work, either. I even prepared and cooked a four-course dinner for my fake fiancé.I'm achy all over. My whole body's worn out, and I'm well aware that I need at least eight hours of deep sleep tonight if I want to feel alive and somewhat normal tomorrow. Still, nothing's working. Not even those expensive-looking sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet. “Argh!” This virus is something else.In the dim glow of the lamplight, covered up from my neck down to my feet, I sit on the thick carpet with my face between my knees. Breathing through my nose is impossible when I'
[ S E R A P H I N E ] It wasn't real. Of course it was just a dream. No one proposed to me on the beach. That fancy island wedding didn't happen. It's all in my head. Or it's this stupid virus messing with my brain all day. Wait. There's something behind me. Something warm keeps fanning my nape. A chill runs down my spine when I feel something heavy draped over my hip, the rest of it pressing on my waist. Shit. What is it? Covered up by the blanket, trying not to panic, I try to shift on the bed. That something's making it difficult for me to change position. I rub my eyes, blinking the grogginess away, cussing under my breath. My throat aches. It feels even more swollen. Probably why I can't seem to make a sound. What time is it? The room isn't pitch-black, but my eyes feel like they're glued shut when I try to open them again. Is it almost midnight? Or have I been asleep for longer than that? Some parts of me kinda feel numb, and I can only blame the painkillers I've taken be
[ S E R A P H I N E ] Why isn't he talking anymore? Did I say something that upset him? Maybe he thinks I'm prying too much. Is he trying to tell me I should forget about our arrangement and just go back home? I'm starting to think he doesn't and won't ever trust me with his other secrets. It's been minutes since I asked him if he wants to call this whole thing off. I still haven't gotten a real answer. We're back on the second floor, alone here in the guest room he's been using. It's not bigger than the one I've been sleeping in. But it does have a better view of the pool. I've tried to convince him that his injured hand needs cleaning up, so now we're in this brightly lit bathroom that faintly smells of him. I guess that means my sinuses are no longer as clogged as I think. The cold night wraps around the bathroom like a tight-fitting shroud, reminding me that we're far away from Liguria and basically hiding out in this huge, modernist villa surrounded by tranquil views, thick
[ D O M I N I C O ]This rooftop isn't as bad or freezing as I thought. It's got a clear, panoramic view of the landscape beyond the fence, and the vents for the heating system are doing their job. My guest also seems to be enjoying the hot tub jets. Her arms rest on the edge of the Jacuzzi, her head tilted back, her glistening brown hair partly covering the golden handles. I'm sitting at the fully stocked bar in this dim corner, waiting for her to be done with her hot tub massage. It should alleviate her fever and body pains. She needs a restful night of much-needed sleep to recuperate. Seraphine won't let me join her in the Jacuzzi because she thinks I'll catch the bug from her. All day, she keeps saying she's contagious, which is why I've kept my distance.I don't want to, but I don't want her to think I don't take her seriously or I'm a handsy creep just like my father. I'm not. I'm trying my best not to make her any more uncomfortable. Even though my eyes are just drawn to her
[ S E R A P H I N E ]It's almost nine. I should eat something, then go straight to bed. I'll start packing first thing in the morning. But I'm not really hungry. My appetite's poor like the past few days. And my sleeping pattern's still all kinds of whack. My other flu symptoms have improved, though. That hot tub massage actually helps. I'll stay here for a bit. That guest room's starting to give me claustrophobia. Sleep can wait. For now I'll just enjoy this moment and thank God that I've had the opportunity to see this place and stay in this gorgeous villa for a few nights. “Wow.” This infinity pool is nothing short of breathtaking. This view is just sublime. I wanna come back here soon with Mama and Daddy Raffy, if Dominico's friend will let me pay for a two-day stay. The rental fee's most likely too steep for my budget, but, I'll make it happen. Letting out a sigh, I sit up on the recliner and glance behind. Looks like he's on his phone again. Is it a video call? It must be
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “Ti serve una mano?” [Do you need help?]“No.” I give Paolo a smile and put down the last box, the second biggest one containing my shoes and some old paperbacks. “Grazie ancora.” [Thanks again.]“Prego. Vado.” [Welcome. I'll head out.] “Molto grazie, Pao.” [Thanks a lot.]“Chiamami se ti serve qualcosa.” [Call me if you need anything.] Still in his black shirt and jeans, Paolo waves at me briefly and walks down the stairs, probably about to dispose of the boxes in the kitchen the movers forgot to throw out. Half an hour later, I'm still organizing my clothes and books into Dominico's old closet and wooden shelf. I still have a few more boxes in the corner to unpack. But tonight's not gonna be another sleepless night. It also helps that this place isn't far from the country club. Like Dominico said, it's not even a half-hour drive. 45 minutes if traffic's bad. Although I know he's busy with work, I still feel kinda disappointed that he didn't show up for
[ 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