"Chiara?" The voice sounds so distant. It's like I'm in a tunnel and there's someone shouting at me from the other end. I try to open my eyes, I really do, but I can't. I feel like I'm floating, for some reason. I try again, but my eyelids just feel so heavy. I could be in trouble, but even that isn't enough to get me to open my eyes. Have I died? Is this what death feels like? "Chiara? Can you hear me?" I can't open my eyes, but I could at least try to speak. The problem is that my mouth is so dry, it's like I've swallowed a mouthful of sand and grit. I lick my lips, but there isn't any moisture in my tongue. I need water, but how to ask for it when I don't even know where I am? "Where am I?" I ask in a faint voice. "I'm Dr. Pettito, you're at St. Lucia's Clinic." Clinic? I'm not at Russo’s house? This gives me enough strength to crack my eyes open. The light above stings my eyes, though, so I scrunch them before trying again. I wish I could use my hand to shield my eyes, but th
"Your mother was born in the beginning of winter. She was our firstborn, we—your grandmother and I—were ecstatic. We had been married for less than a year and we would be parents. It was both frightening and exciting at the same time. She was loved, our dear Vivia. She was a quiet baby, rarely threw tantrums. She was satisfied simply by being fed and bathed. No one had ever seen a sweeter baby. "However, as the years passed, she grew wild and unruly. She refused to obey us, and she preferred boy's clothes over dresses. She played with dinosaurs and wooden cars instead of the numerous dolls we bought her. She had entire collections, something other girls her age could only dream about, yet she never paid any mind to them. It's like she hated everything feminine, and no amount of disciplining could change her mind. "When she turned thirteen, we threw her a birthday party. We invited all our friends and it was meant to be a surprise. She was supposed to come straight home from school,
I know what Russo is trying to do, and he won't fool me.I don't know how much longer I'll have to stay here. I hate being debilitated more than I hate being dependent on him. I realize now that my plan was destined to fail; I'd never succeed. I didn't know who I was dealing with, but I know now. He's manipulative, rancorous, and cruel. He left her to die, all because he didn't want her to marry my father. She was a grown woman, and she could make her own decisions. He claimed to be so concerned about her safety, because my father was a 'criminal', but he allowed Giotto to hunt her down and shoot her in her home. There's something wrong there. He isn't telling me the full story, or rather, he's painting himself as the perfect father who loved his daughter and couldn't stand to watch her sign her life away to a dangerous man. Frankly, I don't know what all the fuss was for. They all do the same things; kill, steal, launder. The only difference is that some families were doing this for
Gustavo is in the office with him. I thought he left. I try not to show how annoyed I am that he's here. I don't know when I started feeling this way towards him, but at the same time I do. He's taking Russo’s side in all this, as if he doesn't know who Russo is. I can blame Giotto as much as I want for my misfortune, but if he had intervened and protected his daughter, none of us would be here right now. "What do you have to say to me?""No need for all the aggression. I'm only trying to be kind to you." His voice is as smooth as the marble floor of his office, but he can't convince me."You're trying to make me feel guilty, but that isn't going to work. You're not going to change my mind. You're not the loving man you're trying so hard to portray." He doesn't fool me for a second. This might have worked on Lia, but it won't work on me. I've been through far too much to let that happen. I'm not going to be gullible and naive anymore. I'll expect the worst, always. I'll become a tru
Russo?Dead?I climb out of bed and follow the maid outside. My heart is in my throat. There's got to be some kind of confusion. How is he dead? I spoke to him a few hours ago and he was fine. Is it possible that there is a misunderstanding? She turns to face me, as if hearing my thoughts. "I found him in his office. Oh, miss. It's a gruesome sight!" "Have you called the police?" I ask. "Yes, they're on the way." I wish she would elaborate. What does she mean by the gruesome? "What happened? Are you sure he's dead?" "There's blood everywhere," she says, quickening her steps as we near his office. "He's been murdered!" I hold her back before she opens the door. "You can't go in! If it's a crime scene, none of us can venture inside. We're going to have to wait out here for the police to arrive. And an ambulance." I'm surprised by how calm and nonchalant I appear from the outside. Inside, I'm a knot of nerves and panic, and her confession has only made matters worse. Murdered? How
Freedom. It's all I want. It's all I can think about as Gustavo drives me to a hotel to spend the night. I wasn't going to spend the night under that roof, especially after what I saw. I've wanted to be free from the start, and he has a point; money will give me all the freedom I need. He's explaining everything to me, concerning the Bianchi fortune. Amalia and I are the only heirs; there isn't anyone left. Distant cousins, no one that has a claim to Russo’s fortune. He's left everything to us. I never thought that something like this would happen. I never imagined myself being rich, not do I know what I'll do with all that money. A lawyer will meet us tomorrow and give us all the information. I'm anxious, I still haven't decided what to do. The smartest thing to do would be to accept the money. However, how can I take Russo’s money, after all he's done? He abandoned us, left us to die, and now that he's dead I'm just supposed to keep his money? I'm ashamed just thinking about it.
I'm filled to the brim with a feeling of utter despair. I try to move my hands and feet, but they've been bound with rope and duct tape. I'm in a dark, cramped space. Moving car? Again?I’m overwhelmed with the strong sense of deja vu. This cannot be happening to me. I thought I was finally free. I wasn’t expecting something this absurd to happen to me. What am I going to do? How will I escape? Is this punishment for not caring about Russo’s death as I should or the price I'm paying for getting involved with Enzo? Caio is going to use me to get to him, to hurt him. He doesn't know how he's wasting his time. Enzo won't care about that. All he wanted was revenge, and now that he has it, he doesn't need anything else. He won’t care about me. He won’t sacrifices his new wins and achievements because of me. Let them have me. He disposed of me along ago. He won’t care now, that I know. How long have I been here? What I can't believe is that after everything I've been through, I'm back to
They tied me down with ropes, like an animal awaiting slaughter.I knew that this would happen, yet I don't regret my decision. I wasn't going to give up without trying, even if that attempt got me here. I'm so thirsty it's like I swallowed a mouthful of sand. With all the dust here, maybe I have. I just need a sip of water, but I guess there isn't any point in wasting water on a dead person. How long will I have to wait? Not being able to move is torturous. I don't know at this point if I should hope for the best or just give up. I've been here for a long time, if anyone had to find me, they would've already. I'm at the mercy of Flora and her brother, and once again this is all Enzo’s fault. It's getting darker because the room is pitch black at this point. Maybe one of them will light this kerosene lamp. My head is starting to hurt, either from dehydration or this stressful situation. I need to sleep, but at the same time, I can't close my eyes while I'm surrounded by people who m