[ 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 ]It's late. What's he even doing? I flump down on the bed, alone in my dim room, impatient and exhausted. Where is he? Is he okay? It's been two hours. The last messages I sent are still waiting for a response from Dominico. I'm not sure why he still hasn't returned any of my calls. Is he on his way back? Or he's still in that facility? Surely visiting hours are over. Why does Ignazio want him there? What the heck are they talking about? If he's snitched on them more than once? Dominico shouldn't be anywhere near that abusive creep. These days, it's just too risky. Someone like him shouldn't be seen in public. Nor does he need to pay his father a visit.I'm not sure what Ignazio needs from Dominico right now. I just know that ruthless criminal is planning something again. Possibly something big and heinous. Something evil. Just scheming to further his interests as always.“Ugh. Please be okay,” I murmur to no one but myself, resting my arms on my
[ D O M I N I C O ] I grit my teeth. I want to break this desk in half, ruin everything in this room, then kick my own ass for good measure. My head's killing me. I need a break. I need to stop thinking about her. Fantasizing about her and a real future with her. It's just not plausible. And all this daydreaming isn't doing anything but frustrate me to no end. What pisses me off more is the fact that she thinks keeping things between us "platonic" for a while would do anything to repair our relationship. It's not working. Not really. It's not even a good enough Band-Aid solution. I can't function like this every fucking day. It's just not sustainable. I'll go clinically insane before my next appointment with my shrink. A faint knock on the door cuts off my thoughts, my mind suddenly blank for a moment. I check the numbers on my desk clock and scowl. Why is she still up? It can't be Fico or Paolo. More often than not, those idiots don't even bother to knock. My hand
[ S E R A P H I N E ] I'm skipping my class this morning. I'm too haggard, nauseated, sleep-deprived, and too stressed out to think about anything else but him. The sky stays a dingy gray and only a little bluish as I approach the front of Dominico’s house, my keys jangling in my pocket. I don't even wanna be here. I'm just gonna stay here all day in case he needs my help. Every five minutes or so, my brain pictures him all bloody and wounded, riddled with bullet holes, trapped in an old, abandoned warehouse somewhere... Shucks. I'm trying my best to push those thoughts aside. Can't let these dark thoughts win. But it's a challenge. Dominico's last text only says he left the detention facility, and that he's meeting someone. The lack of details eats at my peace of mind. I've tried calling him again. But, no luck. When a car pulls over just outside the gates, my heart jerks. The exhaust doesn't sound anything like the Maserati's, but it's familiar. I stand beside the locked
[ D O M I N I C O ] Fuck my life. I'll smell worse than rotting roadkill soon. These masked up pricks aren't police. What do they want? Money? Ransom? Do they think my family of criminals still give a shit about me? Once these gangbangers find out the opposite, they're gonna blow our brains out. Kill us all in broad daylight. I'll bleed to death under those trees, after they drag us out of the car and shoot us in the head one by one on the side of the road. These assholes won't even bother to cover our bloody corpses. “Mani in alto, compari.” [Hands up, fellas.] At the command, Fico sighs in the driver's seat and reluctantly takes his hand off the wheel. He slowly raises his palms, glaring at the masked guy standing near the driver's side. I do the same. I sit perfectly still. Any sudden movements could trigger a bloodbath in mere seconds. I'm trying to look unbothered, but, obviously this isn't anything new for these trigger-happy thugs. We're gonna be bleeding to o
[ D O M I N I C O ] I'm not a father-to-be. I don't have a baby on the way. It's just some bullshit I thought he would take into consideration before making his next move. On paper, I'm still a single man. But Ricchar Falco doesn't seem to know. And I have Sephie to thank for keeping her end of the deal. I just lied to a future mob boss. I lied to his face. In his own territory. But it's no big deal. It doesn't have to be. I did it to protect Seraphine and my family. To make sure they don't get dragged into Pappa's shitty business deals. To give them a better future. A normal life. Or at least I think that's what I'm doing. I'm trying to be the hero my fake wife and my soon-to-be divorcée stepmother think I should be. As they say, “You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain.” I've tried going down that path. It's just not who I am. I can't be one of the villains. Turns out I still have a soul, despite everything. Although the idea of being a fathe
[ D O M I N I C O ] The irony of pain is that you wanna be comforted by the person who hurt you. But that's just the pain talking. The other person doesn't think it's their responsibility to make you feel better. These are self-inflicted wounds, after all. My own doing. Therefore I can't demand anything from her. My comfort and happiness are not her responsibility. I clench my teeth, fingertips paling around the wine bottle. I'm alone again. By choice for now. I'm sitting by the pool, just staring at the shiny ripples in the water. Not eager to go to bed. I can't. Not yet. Sleep can wait. She's probably crying in the guest room. Feeling sorry for me. Feeling awfully guilty for saying no. I don't even wanna imagine the conversation we'll have in the morning, if I sleep next to her tonight. I just know it'll be too awkward, strained, and probably too painful for us both. But it's not her fault. Whether I like it or not, her choice is valid. I have to respect it. Her reasons f
[ 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