[ S E R A P H I N E ]It's almost ten. Enzo just left. Before walking out the front door, he told me to forgive his cousin and trust Dominico more. He's convinced that Dominico only wants to keep me safe. Hence his decision to make me live with him. To make me pretend we're legally married. Maybe Dominico thinks being his wife will be enough to protect me from his father and Ignazio's accomplices? When Dominico was in the living room, he sounded busy on the phone. I think he was talking to his father at one point, while Enzo and I were eating dinner alone in the dining room. Instead of getting more annoyed for not having much privacy, I'm actually thankful that we had a guest. Another person I could talk to. I'm not quite ready to confront Dominico again, too bewildered by how our conversation in the garage ended. Having Enzo around more often will be enough of a buffer the rest of the week. I'm trying to act like nothing happened, like I didn't just bolt and tried to leave the
[ S E R A P H I N E ]A month flies by in a blur. Dominico and I revised the terms of our arrangement weeks ago. The negotiations took a while, and it wasn't easy. But what we have now is a better setup than him paying the bills and putting food on the table while I pretend I'm his stay-at-home trophy wife.When he asked me to stay here in Florence, I said yes. Out of worry, mainly. This property is hours away from Genoa and belongs in a relatively quiet neighborhood, but it's not enough to ensure our safety. I'm still living here in his house for free. In return, I do the chores like cooking and cleaning most days of the week. Usually after my classes. The least I could do for his generosity and encouragement. We hang out more often now, except when I'm at school or he's at work. But our sleeping arrangements haven't changed. Dominico and I still have separate rooms. I don't think he'll try to change my mind about it anytime soon. This weekend, though, we're gonna be sleeping in t
[ D O M I N I C O ] I shouldn't have thought of that bet. It was plain stupid. Juvenile. Clearly she's not thrilled about sleeping here. Sharing a room with me all weekend. Her face says it all. It's not the real problem, though. She's not the issue. I am. Like always. I'm exhausted physically, but my mind's not ready to rest. I just can't shut off my brain. Having been away from her has been messing with my head more than I want to admit. Before Seraphine moved in with me, I was perfectly fine with not seeing her every day. Apparently, some part of my brain's not convinced that this is nothing but a sham marriage. “It's eleven? Already?” I sigh to myself, scowling at the yellow numbers beside my head, my phone finally quiet on the nightstand. Sephie remains still beside me. Her back's pressed onto the pillows leaning against the headboard. She's frowning, sitting with her bare legs crossed, her creamy skin paler than my sheets. The thick book on her thigh holds her attention
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “Why? Is he threatening you?” Threatening me? I squint at Alina's nickname on my phone screen. Why does she think Dominico would threaten me? “N-No.” “Seraphine...” Alina sighs on the other end. “Don't lie. Okay? I just want to be sure you're safe.” “I am.” My voice falters. I take a deep breath as more tears warm my eyes. I'm not sure why she called me up at this hour, but I'm thankful for the distraction. “Really, I'm fine.” “You sound the opposite of fine.” Alina scoffs. “What shit did he pull this time?” “Nothing.” “I'm not buying it. You sound like you've been crying all day.” “What? No.” I lower my voice and switch the lights on. The sudden brightness makes me squint as I sit beside the sink. “I'm not.” “So he's still out of town?” “Dom just got back from his trip.” “What happened? What did he do?” Alina says louder, her annoyance still obvious in her slightly raspy voice. “Nothing. He didn't hurt me or anything.” “Stop lying for him, Seph
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “Tomorrow. I'll talk to him tomorrow.” Pierre will have to wait. He made me wait for years. He can wait another day. I stare at the unregistered number on my phone screen, mumbling under my breath while I sit on the cold tiles. I still don't know why he's been looking for me. I've tried calling my parents, but, no answer. They're probably asleep. Or Pierre specifically told my parents not to tell me that he's been trying to find me. Why, though? Just because he heard I'm married now? So what? It's not like he knows the Tomassinis personally. What's he up to? A sigh escapes me. I'm still alone here in the bathroom, talking to myself instead of preparing for that lengthy test. “I'm going insane.” The words echo in my head. Besides the whole "my ex is in town and hunting me down" issue, my impulsive and self-absorbed, sometimes reckless side can't stop thinking about what I almost did with Dominico in his room. In his bed. The fault is mostly min
[ S E R A P H I N E ] The house feels more like a fortress than a home tonight. I'm getting used to seeing Dominico's bodyguards every single day, but the presence of another armed stranger in the house is only making me more uncomfortable. Not safer. The tension around us is making Dominico fidget in his seat, too. Fico and Paolo awkwardly chat with Mrs. Tomassini's bodyguard in the living room while steady rainfall taps a gentle, calming rhythm against the windows. Sitting beside Dominico in a thin blue sweater, Rosalind Tomassini puts on a weak smile and stares at her cup of coffee. “You two looked so gorgeous in the photos and videos. The chapel looked beautiful, as well.” Her slightly veiny hand slowly tilts her mug on the gilded saucer. “Alfeo's cousin helped us with the paperwork,” Dominico says flatly. “I wish you just told us. Called me the night before at least. You know I really wanted to be there.” Mrs. Tomassini flings him a disappointed look and combs back her
[ S E R A P H I N E ] This doesn't feel real. Or spontaneous. Nope. Not at all. One of my nightmares is becoming my reality. I'm being stalked. I'm being targeted. Why? Bad blood? Is this guy here to show off how better his life has gotten since we broke up? How the heck did he find me? Did he pay Alina? Maybe he convinced another one of my former co-workers. Something tells me his reason -- or reasons? -- for being here is not something I can freely discuss with my "husband". “Met your friend the other day.” Pierre's unwavering gaze travels up and down, assessing my appearance like it's necessary. “She didn't say?” “She told me.” I stare back at him and do my best to keep my voice steady. I wanna look and sound unbothered. Emotionless. I don't want him to think I've been waiting so long for this moment. Three and a half years, to be more specific. “Been trying to find you. Tsk. You don't make it easy, love.” “Why?” Oh dear. If his mother wasn't British, his pet
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “You sure you're okay?” “I'm fine.” I nod and give Paolo a quick smile, keeping up a calm voice. “I'm just gonna take a shower. Rest for a bit.” “No one followed us,” he mutters with a straight face. With his handgun tucked under his leather belt, he grips his phone and stands on the black doormat. The concern in his eyes is directed at me and me only. “I just called the guards at the entrance. They double-checked the logs, and the CCTV.” Crap. Now I'm causing a fuss in this neighborhood, though I don't even own an inch of this property. “Okay. Thanks.” “Don't worry about it. I'll be outside in case your friend shows up.” “He's not my friend anymore,” is what I should say. Instead, I just give Paolo another weak nod while my fingers curl around the cold doorknob. I don't think Pierre knows where I live. Not yet, anyway. Then again I can't know for sure unless I ask him myself. I still have his number. I just don't wanna call him. If I encourage him