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
Phoebe doesn't look the least surprised at the opulence of the private hospital room. This time I wasn't objecting to Alessandro. After everything my sister has been through, she deserves some luxury. "Did you give him your V-card?" Phoebe asks with a raise of her eyebrows, and I'm glad to see some of my sister back. She still looks slightly pale from the amount of blood she lost, but she's alive, and that's all that matters. "We haven't had sex." I do not want to discuss my sex life, not even with Phoebe, but she's hurt and in hospital, so I give her a little bit. "You must have blown his mind then." She goes on. "First the private jet, now this, just for the stupid sister who has terrible taste in men." "You're not stupid." I fluff her pillows just to have something to do with my hands. "Although I agree with the terrible taste in men part." ' She grabs my arm and I still. "I'm happy for you sissy, I'm so happy that you found someone like Alessandro." "You do know he ma
I fall asleep much quicker than I anticipated, the day's events taking a toll on me. This excitement has really become too much for me to handle. It's like Alessandro's appearance in my life has sparked some volcanic reactions that I would have loved to avoid in the past. I'm still not sure if all of it is worth it for the feeling of being alive. Feeling dead was much less complicated. I dream of two little girls playing in a deserted house, no parents to feed them or bathe them, or give them the simple touch of a parent's love. I feel someone in my room before I see them. My hand slowly goes underneath my pillow to grab the small pocketknife I've kept there since I was ten years old, and as soon as the person touches the comforter, I lift the knife to stab anywhere that I can. but a strong hand grips my wrist and then the room is flooded with light from the bedlamp. "What the fuck?" Alessandro hisses down at me before letting my wrist go. "Oh, it's you." I release the bre
"No!" Sammy's eyes ping pongs between me and Alessandro as we stand and argue in front of her and Enzo. I have to say Enzo is extremely professional, standing to the side like a statue, staring in front of him as if he's not in the company of two crazy people. "You have completely lost your marbles now!" I go on. "Enzo is just here to drive you around when I can't." Alessandro is extremely calm compared to my volatile mood. "Phoebe is in the hospital, with Enzo around you don't need to wait for anyone or take a cab." He had to bring up Phoebe, he now knows that she's my weak spot. Men like Alessandro Moretti get more powerful because they prey on their opponents' weaknesses. "I think you might have mistaken me for Raquel Whittle! In case you forgot, I'm used to getting around on my own. " I walk up to Enzo. "You may leave, I will not be using your services." But Enzo doesn't even so much as move a muscle. "He doesn't take orders from you, so you can't tell him to leav
The thing about sketeltons is, is that it always come up to the surface. No matter how well you bury them, or how well you conceal the evidence, the truth always comes out. Like the time I stole two chocolate bars at the convenience store because both Phoebe and I were so hungry. My mother hadn't been home for two days and we already ate everything we could. I thought I got away with it when a hand stopped me at the door... Wait. The doctor the night that asshole hit Phoebe. It was her, she stopped me at the door that night and told me good girls don't steal. I remember feeling so embarrassed, but my stomach was growling and she must have heard because she bought us a loaf of bread and cheese, plus the two chocolate bars. Then she walked me the two blocks back to my house and asked me where my parents were. I told her they went to work, and about a week later child services came knocking on our door and took us away. The group home we were placed in was terrible, so we lied
My hands are clammy and I sit on them to stop them from shaking. "What's wrong with you?" Phoebe asks, giving me the side eye. I spent some money from the absurd amount sitting in my bank account and bought her a full kit of makeup. She refrained from asking me how I could afford it because she probably knew I got it from Alessandro. Sammy is sitting dutifully on the other side serving as a model. "How do you know you love someone?" A pair of green and a pair of blue eyes turn to me, making me feel even more uncomfortable. But who the hell am I supposed to ask these questions to? I'm certainly not going to ask Alessandro. "I loved my high school boyfriend." Sammy speaks up. "You never told me you had a boyfriend." I'm surprised. "Well, you've never been interested in boys, so I didn't think you'd care." She shrugs. "Of course I care." I say softly. "Gosh, have I been such a bitch?" "No, you were just always very focused." Sammy smiles, but I'm sure it's just so I won
Alessandro Moretti is a conniving man. One that orchestrates the world so that everything can fall into place the way he wants it to. And right now what he wants is me, so he's eliminating all potential threats. First, he got Sammy that job interview, then Phoebe a job at the club and a gig on a reality show. And just when Sammy got a bit worried about me not spending time with her, he invited his friend over for dinner. A friend beyond famous in the entire world, who people very rarely see out in public. Alessandro Moretti is a fucking mastermind. Or a psychopath who I really should run far away from. Yet I'm glued to his side, enthralled as I watch him interact with Evan Micheals. "So how do you two know each other?" I ask the question that is burning in both my and Sammy's minds. Evan blushes adorably as he looks at Sammy from underneath his eyelashes. Well, well, well. What do we have here? "Alessandro saved me from getting beat up in high school once." Evan repli
"Is it really necessary for a wheelchair?" Phoebe moans as I wheel her out of the hospital. "Are you not supposed to be grateful for going home?" I retort. "No, it was fun in the hospital." She looks back up at me, pulling a face. "And there was a hot male nurse who gave me foot massages." "Wow, they really gave you the royal treatment." "All thanks to your boyfriend." She chuckles. "Have you given up the goods yet? I was thinking you shouldn't keep him on his toes and on edge. We might get a luxury vacation next." I don't know if she's being serious or mocking me, but I don't ask because Enzo is already waiting out front. Alessandro and I have reached some sort of impasse. I haven't brought the fact back up that he has eyes on me at all times, but I'm still not satisfied with it. He did promise to give me some space when Phoebe gets discharged. Then there's still the little fact that I haven't told him about the football game yet, I can already see his face when he hears
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