[ D O M I N I C O ] Another familiar street. Another unpleasant family dinner. Another awkward confrontation to sit through. Or hostile. Depending on my father's mood. I focus on the busy road. This place has given me more bad memories than good ones. I've probably made more enemies than friends here in Genoa. But I don't mind the long drive. I'm alone tonight. For personal and safety reasons. Sephie will be safer at home with Paolo and Fico keeping an eye on the house. Also, she doesn't want or need to catch up with my parents. Seeing Pappa in person will only traumatize her again. As the sky dims, I step on the gas and grip the steering wheel. A tense knot grows in my stomach the more streets I pass by. Half an hour later, I'm pulling up to my father's mansion. The garage isn't empty. The front yard looks more crowded than usual. Mostly security staff. The guards stare and greet me with faint nods and smiles. I massage my neck and prolong a stoic expression. I get out o
[ D O M I N I C O ] This won't take an hour. It shouldn't take that long. This late "business meeting" isn't even on my calendar. No one else knows about this. Not even my secretary. For now, that is. I close the spreadsheet on my screen and steal another glance at the 40-something blonde sitting in front of my desk. Don't know if she's actually in her 40s, but her demeanor and the lines around her pale mouth and on her forehead tell me so. Her thick sweater looks the same shade of white as her collared shirt. They don't hide all of what looks to be years-old freckles. Naomi flips to another page. I don't wanna call her by her first name. But she's been trying to build rapport, for a number of obvious reasons. And she insists on me not calling her "Officer Roux" all the time. Her ID says she's a Criminal Intelligence Officer, although something tells me it's not her only title. She's here on behalf of Mathis, the lead investigator from Lyon. We're in my new office. Bigg
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “Where is he?” “Nasa kusina pa din.” [Still in the kitchen.] I sit up and stare at my mother's name on my phone until the black letters blur. I'm alone here in the living room, lounging on the sofa with my new textbook, waiting for the drilling noises to stop. They're not helping this stupid headache in any way, but I can't really complain. After all, not one room in this house belongs to me. I'm just the cook and part-time maid. Gardener, too, sometimes. “Making dinner?” my mom asks on the other end, sounding genuinely curious about Dominico's pastimes. “He cooks, too?” “Tapos na 'ko magluto. Wala na naman sa mood. Ayaw makipag-usap.” [I already cooked. He's not in a chatty mood again.] “Bakit?” [Why?] “I dunno,” is all I say, not bothering to feign a pleasant tone. Dominico and I haven't really talked last night. And the other night. I'm still not sure why he came home so late. My first guess is: he's been working on some backlogs. But my gu
[ S E R A P H I N E ] No. No freaking way. Shit. We're in trouble. We're not gonna make it through the week. If his father finds out... “Last night?” Dominico just nods. Crap. I can't believe he... “Why didn't you say anything?” I grip his arms, our voices still hushed. My heart's already beating too fast, and I think he can feel it, too. We're still stuck in an embrace. I'm not letting go until he tells me the rest. “She said it's better I don't tell anyone.” “Hold on. You...” So he came home late because he was cutting a deal with someone else from Interpol? I don't know if it means he's not being investigated anymore. Or if he's never going to prison just because he snitched on his dad. Gee. I hope and pray to God my hunch is right. “Where's your phone?” Dominico pulls a face, his hands busy checking my skirt's pockets. My clean clothes rub against his sweaty arms and torso, but I couldn't care less. I just want to hear answers. A good explanation. “Not in there
[ S E R A P H I N E ] I shouldn't have done that. I embarrassed him. Pissed him off, too, probably. Otherwise he would've tried to stop me from walking out. He would have already apologized twice and explained what he was doing in there. His phone wasn't anywhere near him, so I'm confident he wasn't sexting with his ex, or something. “He's just stressed out. Just trying to take his mind off everything,” I murmur to myself. I mean, I get it. It's just a way for him to deal with the stress. It's got nothing to do with me. I should be the one to apologize. For invading his personal space. I shouldn't have barged in like that. And I understand why he'd rather deal with his problems alone. Dom will say he's just being smart, cautious, and he doesn't want us to start having sex because the consequences won't help me or our situation in any way. Or is there another reason? Maybe he still believes what his father did to me traumatized me enough to discourage me from being i
[ S E R A P H I N E ] It's almost sunrise. I'm pretty sure he didn't have more than a two-hour nap after I left him alone in his room. But he's still having a hard time falling asleep. We're in the living room, the fireplace casting long shadows on the walls. The warmth doesn't reach my face or torso. But it's fine. The way we're sitting too close to each other, with one side of me pressing onto his warm and firm body, I'll be covered in sweat in a few minutes. I don't want to make him any more uncomfortable. It's kind of obvious he's having a hard time ignoring the fact that I'm wearing nothing under his shirt. The hem barely covers up my thighs, but the shirt is big and thick enough to hide my private parts. This isn't me teasing him into changing his mind. I'm not trying to seduce him. I'm just too tired and lazy to go back to my room and get clean and dry clothes. I didn't even towel-dry my hair or put my wet underwear in the washing machine. I guess we'll just hang out
[ S E R A P H I N E ] What? Get back with Pierre? Me? Is he being serious? Does he actually think I would do that to him? When did I ever say I still have feelings for my ex? Do I look like a two-timing liar? Wow. I just told him a huge, well-kept secret of mine: that he's been my biggest crush for I don't even know how long now. And this is what I get? “What are you even talking about?” The last thing I want is to escalate this into another pointless argument, but, the way he said the words and the certainty in his voice just hit a nerve. As if I'm the one not making a lot of sense, Dominico shrugs and stares at me with a slight pout. “I meant what I said.” Ugh. Why is he just like my ex? Insecure and irrationally jealous. Maybe even ten times worse, considering his toxic relationships with his complicated family. “So, lemme get this straight. You think it wasn't something unplanned, the first and second time I saw him again. You think I met up with Pierre? In secret
[ S E R A P H I N E ] Despite the strong urge to argue with him, I walk away from Dominico and run up the stairs. My chest aches at the thought of me leaving him alone downstairs. I don't wanna hide in his room. But I don't think I have much choice. I groan and compose a quick prayer in my head. I pray that whoever's outside isn't armed and ready to murder. With ragged breaths, I shut the door closed, then lock it and scan his bedroom. I don't want to leave the door locked in case Dom needs to rush back in here, but he might get furious if I don't do everything as he instructed. My heart is just pounding. I kneel on his tan sheets. My elbow digs into his soft pillow as I fumble for his gun. The moment my bare skin touches the cold metal, more adrenaline courses through my body, multiplying the anxious thoughts swirling in my head. The magazine is in place. I toggle the safety. Just like he taught me. When I hear nothing but the rain, I end up pacing around his neat bed
[ 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