[ S E R A P H I N E ] It's midnight. I should be sleeping. Or studying. The latter seems impossible, though, given my current state of mind. I can't focus every time Dominico's stepmom is staying over. Even worse: some nosey reporters have found out where Dominico lives. A couple of them have been camping around his property since yesterday, despite knowing he's got security staff and hates any media attention. So far it doesn't look like they've found out that I moved out of his house. But I do think they're planning to harass me next for any information about Dom, his father, and Leandro. Which is partly why I decided to move out temporarily. I don't want my family to see my face on the tabloids anytime soon, but it might happen one of these days. Sitting on the edge of my small bed, I rub my eyes as the wind howls outside. The soft glow of my desk lamp casts a warm light across my dorm room. My roommate isn't here yet. I don't think she'll be here until Wednesday. As the
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “Don't burn. Please. I need you to be perfect tonight. Absolutely perfect.” I let out a shaky breath and stir the pasta one more time as the white sauce I just made simmers in the pan. It's his favorite pasta. Homemade and fresh. The pot on the other burner is still cooking the spicy sinigang — the pork and veggie stew Dominico made me swear I'll cook for him every week. The house is quiet like most evenings, but it's not eerie. I prefer this. It's the complete opposite of the noisy campus dorms where I've spent the last couple of days. And nights. Because I thought some time apart will be good for us both. “Yeah. Right.” I scoff at myself. Well, sure. Being away from him gave me enough "me time" to focus on my schoolwork this week, and it gave Dominico some space. A bit of privacy while dealing with the grief and stress. But now I'm seriously doubting it's the long-term solution most of our relationship problems need. I already miss him. Badly. Way m
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “What?” I glare at the guy in handcuffs. My chest doesn't stop aching despite the calm, soothing voice he's faking in front of all these people. These inconsiderate pieces of... The heck am I supposed to do now? I'm not supposed to go after him. Or anywhere. I'll just stay here until I lose my mind worrying about him all night? “Per favore non fargli del male.” [Please don’t hurt him.] Before the cops reach the front door, Dominico gives me another reassuring smile. It's weaker, more forced than the first. “It's gonna be fine,” he says in a steady voice even as the men in uniform walk him out of the house. I dash to the end of the hall and try to block their way. But two lady cops grab my arms. “Don't touch me!” They drag me back to the living room, away from Dominico and the front door. They're saying something but my brain's not working. It doesn't even attempt to translate the words coming out of their mouth. I just want to bawl my eyes out. More
[ D O M I N I C O ] “What d'you want?” “Un semplice 'grazie' può bastare.” [A simple 'thank you' would suffice.] I don't respond and rush into the busy hallway. No longer handcuffed. Free to walk out of this shithole, at last. Despite the time, half of the precinct is still buzzing with activity. Where the fuck is my phone? No one mentioned how much longer I'm supposed to wait for it out here. I glance at my watch. If nothing else comes up, I'll be home before two. I'll be in my bed by four at the latest if Enzo and Mamma decide to show up. Clenching my jaw, I stifle a yawn and walk past another interrogation room, my head just about spinning. I'm still wrapping my mind around what just happened. After hours of waiting and skirting redundant, mostly half-baked questions, I narrowly escaped two criminal charges — thanks to this meddling prick showing up out of nowhere. But it's not the end of the animosity between us. The bitter taste in my mouth remains. And I don't pl
[ D O M I N I C O ] After we pass by a busy intersection, the drive turns agonizingly slow. No thanks to the rain pelting the windshield and blurring my driver's view. We're ten minutes away. If I were the one behind the wheel, I'll say five, even in this weather. I need to see her now. Talk to her. Ask her questions I need answers to. I'll try not to turn it into another stupid fight about her ex and their friendship. Merely thinking about them talking and being in the same room still sets my teeth on edge. I slap my phone on my thigh. It's quiet unlike most days. Enzo still won't return my calls, which can only mean three things: 1) he's behind bars and not allowed to use gadgets 2) he's busy entertaining and showing off his new girlfriend, or 3) someone working for Pappa and Leandro or the Falcos kidnapped him, and now Enzo's probably dying in a ditch somewhere “Merda.” [Shit.] It's not just paranoia. Or anxiety. This isn't just my pessimism talking. If Pappa and L
[ S E R A P H I N E ] I almost gasp at the muffled sound of his voice. Shucks. My nose and eyes still look pinkish. I steel myself beside the sink, anticipating a knock. “Sephie,” he says in a slightly louder voice. I open the door and cross the threshold in two quick strides. The look in his tired eyes shows relief and some anxiety. I clasp his sleeve and press my body onto his warmth. “Are you okay?” The front of his shirt muffles the sigh of relief that leaves me the second he's in my arms. Dominico hugs me back and sighs. “Yeah.” The tension in his shoulders ease. His arms around me bring comfort, but my mind continues to buzz with questions. Fears. “You sure?” I pull away to stare at him, my voice slightly quivering even though I no longer feel like crying. On the outside, he looks okay. Just more exhausted. Same plain T-shirt and faded blue pants. No bloodstains or anything. Thank God... “You're not hurt anywhere, or...” I stroke his forearm and warm cheek. I don
[ S E R A P H I N E ] It's almost five in the afternoon. I'm done with my classes, and I feel like throwing up again. “Crap.” I grunt and massage my temples. I'm lying on my back, the faint blue and green lines around the ceiling almost worsening the nausea. My roommate is still nowhere to be found. Not that I'm worried. She's got classes until six every Monday. She won't be here until nine. On weekdays, she and her boyfriend study in the library until late, usually after having dinner together. I have enough privacy for another couple of hours at least. Thankfully. I sigh to myself, sitting on the edge of my bed. Alone again. Too anxious to sleep or eat. The constant, dreary patter against the windows doesn't really help my mood. My heart thuds against my ribs as I stare at the pink boxes next to me. I haven't even opened them yet. I'm still processing what I just did, and what I'm supposed to do right now. It shouldn't be hard at all. Or confusing. I'll just sit in the
[ S E R A P H I N E ] I don't think he saw them. If he did, he would've brought it up before we left the dorms. We're in his car now. I'm buckled up in the backseat, the silence between us only growing more awkward by the minute. We're both lost in our own thoughts, it seems. Thankfully a phone call kept Dominico preoccupied while I was trying not to panic about the pregnancy test kits in my dorm room. I managed to stuff them into my backpack just before we left. My bag sits in my lap. It weighs a ton despite the slight numbness I feel inside. It's weird. I'm probably going insane. Dom sits to my right. Still and quiet. Too quiet. I stare out the window, the passing scenery a familiar blur. My heart's beating a little faster than normal. I don't really know why he wants to talk to me. Nor am I in the mood for another fight about my ex. I still feel sick. It's not simply nausea. I dunno what I would do if ever I actually saw a positive test result. I just don't have th
[ 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