There's a new intimacy between me and Alessandro when we get in the back of a chauffeur driven car as soon as we get off the plane, waiting for us straight on the tarmac. I'm being treated first class when it's my actual first time even setting foot in an airport. It's weird and exhilirating at the sime time. There's one thing that I'm absolutely sure of now. Alessandro Moretti wants me. He wants me in such a way that he's willing to botch a company's takeover. I've been pursued before, but never at this calibre. And it makes me want to run less and less. This is the first time I've set foot in my hometown in over three years and it makes me feel agitated. I vowed to never return to this shithole of a town where everyone knows everyone's business and how you're looked down on because you have less. Or how the Simpsons are known as the Scarlet Ladies. The ones who can take your man with only a swish of her dark hair and a glimpse of her green eyes. I hated living here
Phoebe is lights out on the plane, her head in my lap. I knew her moving in with that guy was bad news, I'm going to have to find her some purpose in life so she doesn't have to feel the need to get validation from a man. She's beautiful and insanely talented with a make-up brush, I'm sure that can get her somewhere in life. I can feel Alessandro's gaze on my face, so I look up and meet his eyes. There's a new intensity when he looks at me, but he hasn't spoken to me after kissing me in the bathroom. My lips are still swollen from that kiss. It wasn't like the gentle kiss we shared earlier on his couch, this kiss was all-consuming, violent. "Thank you for this." I tell him softly. "I don't know what I would've done without you tonight." That's the one thing I've always tried avoiding in my life. Never ask anyone for anything, so you never owe them shit, but my debt is piling up when it comes to Alessandro Moretti. And I don't think he's the kind of man you want to owe. He smil
I don't hear from Alessandro again for the rest of the weekend. Maybe I should stab him in the dick, too. He's ghosting me, and I still have some pride left in me, I will not be the one to text him first. I'm standing in line for my coffee on Monday morning, looking at my phone, wishing a message would come through like some lovesick puppy when someone taps me on the shoulder. A beautiful blonde smiles at me, or it looks more like a sneer. "Hi, rumor has it you're dating Alessandro Moretti." What is up with the blondes? I refrain from rolling my eyes. "Sure." And why the hell are people suddenly feeling the need to be talking to me? They've never bothered me before. "Well, watch your back, bitch!" She hisses in my face. "He belongs to my cousin, and she won't back down easily from trash like you." This is not the first time someone has called me trash. I've been called the name countless times by people from home, but this is the first time I've been called it here. Thi
The car ride is packed with sizzling tension. My eyes are nervously on the road as Alessandro drives fast and recklessly, earning us tons of honks in the city traffic. It's deadly silent between the two of us, neither one uttering a single word. He doesn't drop me off at home, instead making his way to his apartment. When he parks, he doesn't wait for me or open my door like last time, he walks to the elevator quickly, prompting me to follow. He presses the buttons for the code like they personally offended him, and I'm not gonna lie, he's making me slightly nervous with his volatile mood. I must admit we make an odd pair, him dressed in a charcoal business suit today, and me in baggy sweatpants and a sweater. I'm sure he and his blonde fiance fit way better together. Just the thought gets me riled up again and as soon as the doors open to his apartment and we step out, I bang him hard on the chest. The fucker doesn't even flinch, allowing me two more hits before he grabs my arm
"You've bewitched me." Alessandro's murmur comes to me in my post-climactic mood. His finger is lazily traveling a path from my navel up to my breast, drawing a circle around my nipple and going back down, dipping inside my navel, all the way up to the other breast, and then repeating the pattern. It's oddly relaxing. He's lying next to me with his head propped in his hand, and I'm still blissfully lying on my back with my arms above my head. I don't think I can move. I open one eye to look at him. "You've been cursed by a Scarlet Lady." His finger stops moving. "What?" I close my eyes again and sigh. "Legend goes that the Simpson females carry a curse that makes men fall to their knees." He chuckles. "Cute." "And true." "I think legend has a point. I did just cum in my pants from watching you cum." Now both of my eyes are open. "You could've just taken them off and come inside me instead." I honestly don't know who I've become, maybe I am a Scarlet Lady after a
Two pairs of accusing eyes are waiting for me as soon as I walk through the apartment door. Phoebe's eye is no longer swollen shut, although the color has taken on a harsh purple. "Where were you?" Green eyes narrow at me. If it was only Sammy, I could've come up with a quick fib and she would have accepted it, but I know Phoebe is behind this interrogation. I throw my keys on the kitchen counter and deposit my backpack on the stool. "I was with Alessandro." Phoebe's eyes widen as if she expected me to lie, but what would be the use if they're going to find out anyways? "Are you dating him now?" Sammy asks with a frown. "What about his fiance?" "Technically we haven't been on a date, so I'm not sure what to call us." I shrug. Maybe I should ask him, since he knows exactly what we are without discussing it with me first. "And he's not engaged, it's complicated." "I really think he's trouble." Sammy is genuinely concerned. "Of course he's trouble." I walk to the fridge
Alessandro Moretti has brought me nothing but anger, frustration, confusion, lust, and now another fucking blonde to fuck with me. Raquel Whittle is the epitome of a trophy wife. She holds her head up high as she approaches me, reeking of money. I, on the other hand, look like the disgruntled mistress. Cheap and expendable. The girl has probably always gotten what she wanted. "You wanted a word?" I ask in a cool tone. She sniffs and then takes off her sunglasses to look down her nose at me. Her eyes are red and puffy like she has been crying the whole day. "How could you?" She sniffles again. "How could you do that to Alessandro and me?" Wait up. I'm thoroughly confused now. Never has Alessandro alluded that there was a real relationship between them, Yet, he never really tells me anything either. He just said she was part of a business deal. "I would give a shit if I knew what you were talking about." Her mouth drops open in shock as if I've just violated her. "He and I
I never want to leave this place. I've been looking over my shoulder since I can remember, scared of the men my mother used to bring home. working and studying to get out of that situation. I've always been in a survival mood. But right now, I'm being held in strong arms and I feel as if nothing can touch me here. Not even my mother's bad decisions. "Do you think she's going to be okay?" Sammy whispers from next to me, looking skeptically at Alessandro like she can't really believe he's a real person. "She has one of the best surgeons working on her, I'm sure she'll be fine." He answers reassuringly, but I'm not so sure. He didn't see the amount of blood on that bathroom floor, I was covered in it. A friendly nurse gave me some scrubs to change into, but there's still some blood on my sneakers, and just the thought of Phoebe not being with me has me kicking off the shoes. Alessandro kisses me softly on the side of my head. "I'll get someone to get you new shoes." I woul
I look down at my three babies, where they're all bundled in the same incubator. They were born on thirty-three weeks, but none of them had to be incubated. I'm so proud of them, all of them able to breathe on their own. I was so worried, but they did it. I've never cried so much as I've been crying in the last week. The pediatrician said they should stay in the incubator for at least two weeks, and they were each placed in their own one. But the nurses said when they're apart, they cry, and when they're together, they don't. It's the cutest thing ever. Alessandro can't tell them apart because they look exactly alike. I don't know how, but I know who is who. Their father proudly named them, and right now, Arcangelo's mouth cutely yawns, even though they're sleeping. One week until we can take them home. Right now, they've wearing onesies courtesy of their aunt saying Thing One, Thing Two, and Thing Three. I miss Phoebe in the house, but she has to follow her own path, and she
FARRAH "I'm so sorry, Thomas." My bodyguard is a lone figure at the grave of his wife. "Me too." He says softly with his head bowed. "I was so busy with..." He doesn't complete the sentence, so I take his hand in mine and squeeze his. "It's okay to say it." "I was so busy protecting others, I didn't take care of my own family." He completes the sentence on a sob. "You know that's not true." I tell him. "You were looking after all of us. You just didn't think her past would catch up to you." "But I should have!" He turns guilty eyes to mine where I'm sitting in a wheelchair next to him. "That's what I was trained to do, and I failed my own wife." He's going to feel guilty for a while, probably forever, so I don't say a word. Alma's killer was from a religious society who has been following her and Thomas's lives for a while now. They believe that she betrayed her country and her religion. She would have been stoned to death if she was in her own country. The government has tak
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Trey looks worriedly at me, his eyes darting back and forth in the dark street. "This ends tonight." I go over my body again, making sure for what seems like the hundredth time that I have all my guns and hand grenades in place. It seems like the fuckers are playing right into my hands. Thanks to Enzo's intel, I have the remaining four elders all under one roof in one night. By now, they must know that Fabiono is dead, but they still think I'm inside that jail. They probably know it was me, too, so they're most likely having a meeting to decide what they're doing next. Little do they know, I'm striking while the iron is still hot. Trey shakes his head, his eyes on the surveillance footage on his phone, all courtesy of Evan. Farrah was right, I did orchestrate Evan's bullying so I could be his savior. It was one of the best things I ever did, too, because I now have access to a satellite that gives me vision all over the world. And I have a gre
ALESSANDRO As soon as I stop in front of the quaint cottage, a shot gets fired from me from somewhere in the house, and I duck. I slowly get out of the driver's seat with my hands in the air. If this guy is as dangerous as Thomas said he is, I will be dead in the next second. "My name is Alessandro Moretti, I believe my wife is in there." I shout, hoping they can hear me. I take it as a good sign when I don't get shot at again. The front door opens, and a sight for sore eyes greets me. I run to that door as fast as I can, and then I scoop Farrah in my arms, her smell that is uniquely hers enveloping me. "What the fuck did you do, asshole." She sobs in my neck. "Are you okay? I thought you were in jail." I pull back so I can look at her. There are dark circles under her eyes, and she looks tired, but she's always the best thing I will ever see. "What are you doing on your feet?" I ask her. "You're not supposed to be walking around. You're supposed to be still." She hugs me ag
ALESSANDRO Dario is waiting for me when I walk out of jail the next morning. I don't like the look in his eyes. "What's wrong?" I want to know immediately. He holds the keys to his car out for me, and I grab it. I may be the younger of the two of us, but I've always been the one that was in control. He's never seemed to mind. It's just how our personalities work. "Farrah is gone." The earth drops from beneath my feet for a moment, but I take a deep breath. With Farrah, I've found that there's always an explanation. I get behind the wheel and wait for him to get in beside me. "What happened?" "One of her bodyguards was found with a single stab wound. Luckily, he's not dead." Dario sounds worried. "The hospital's cameras were conveniently out of order for about two hours, but both her and Phoebe are gone. And the other bodyguard." "What about Thomas?" "Still missing." I'm trying to keep my cool, but I bang on the steering wheel. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" Thomas has a few numbers I
FARRAH "Oh my God!" I scream. "T.J!" Damian doesn't even stay at the crash. He just swerves his car and goes around the wreck. "What are you doing?" Kevin shouts at him. "You have to stop, we have to help her!" "Are you okay? "Damian looks at me in the rearview mirror. "I'm fucking fine!" I'm about to lose it. We just left a kid there in a crashed car. "We have to go back and help her." Damian is still calm as he grabs his phone from the console and dials 911. He calmly tells the operator that there was a crash with the address, and then he disconnects before the operator can ask any questions. Phoebe is sobbing next to me, and I feel my own tears wetting my cheeks. We just left Alma there. What if she was badly hurt? Who was that behind the wheel of the truck, and why did he crash into her? The windows weren't even tinted of the car. If they were looking for me, they would've been able to see I wasn't in that car. "The three of you better listen to me and listen to me carefu
FARRAH "Is something going on here that I should know about?" Damian looks accusingly at me in Dr. Sanchez's office. "I've been calling Abe with no luck." Abe is the other bodyguard who's currently on shift. "I think that was my husband's uncle on the way to my room." I gulp, my heart rate skyrocketing. "I'm not sure, but with everything going on with my husband right now, I think he might be trying to hurt me." Hurt is a mild word, but Dr. Sanchez is in the room, and she already looks freaked out. I don't want to worry her any more than she already is. "And you were planning to do what exactly?" Damian wants to know. "I need to get out of here." "Against my advice!" Dr. Sanchez looks at me like I'm crazy. "What if you need blood? You do realize how serious your condition is, right? You are not just risking the lives of the babies, but yours, too." "I'm a sitting duck in the hospital." I shake my head at her. "And if someone kills me, there will be no babies or me anyway. Trus
ALESSANDRO Edward Whittle looks like I'm going to jump him any minute. But like I told him, I'm not here for him. He deserves to go to trial for what he's done, to be torn apart by the public and sentenced. Killing him would be a mercy he doesn't deserve. The asshole starts crying after I don't give him any attention, and I look at him in utter disgust. Those girls in that container were crying, too. I wonder how many girls he's smuggled in containers over the years. What has happened to those girls, were they still alive? Edward Whittle should get life in prison and become the bitch of a thousand men. And even that punishment won't be enough. He follows me around like a little puppy when it's dinner time. The dude jumps at the tiniest noise. That's what you get when you play on the wrong side of the law, and you don't think of the consequences. The inmates seem to know who I am and avoid me, so I get my food that looks like someone puked on it in peace, with my entourage of o
FARRAH "You can't leave the hospital." Phoebe drags both her hands through her hair. "We have to come up with something else. Plus, I think you're being paranoid." I don't know how to explain it to her. All I know is that my gut is never wrong, and I can feel that impending gloom. Nobody is hurting my babies, I would kill them first. Even if I have to do it kicking and bleeding. "I'm not paranoid." I sigh. I wish Alessandro would let me in on his damn plans and stop leaving me blindsided. "Call in one of the bodyguards." Phoebe looks at me skeptically, but do as I ask. The guy is well-built and looks like he belongs on a magazine cover and not outside my hospital room. He nods his head at me. "Mrs. Moretti." I'm still not used to being called that, but I do like the ring to it. "Do you know where Thomas is?" I ask. There's no way he just dropped off the face of the earth. "No ma'am. Thomas just gave us strict instructions that the door should be guarded at all times and that