Chapter 3

The next morning, the Miami sunlight pierced through the thin curtains of my bedroom. I woke up with swollen eyes and a heavy head.

The phone screen on the nightstand lit up repeatedly. Daniel. Daniel. Elena. Daniel. I flipped the phone face down.

The house was already quiet. Mom and Robert had left early to handle paperwork for their marriage. I went down to the kitchen for a glass of water, hoping the cold liquid would soothe my frayed nerves that had been on edge since last night.

“Morning, Sister.”

Luca was leaning near the kitchen doorway holding a cup of black coffee, his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. Hearing that word made my stomach turn.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why? Isn’t that what we are now? My father and your mother. We’re family, Ave.”

“Only on paper. I’ve never considered you family.”

He set his cup down with a sharp clink and stepped closer. “You think you can just ignore me after five years? You ended everything in a matter of seconds and vanished without a trace, leaving me searching for answers like an idiot.”

“I don’t need an explanation from—”

My phone vibrated violently on the marble countertop. The screen lit up: Daniel.

Luca glanced at the display. “Who’s calling you that many times?”

I declined the call. “None of your business.”

“Your boyfriend.”

“Ex.” The word slipped out faster than I intended.

Something shifted across Luca’s face—too fast for me to read. “Since when?”

“Three days ago.”

“So that’s why your eyes were swollen yesterday. It wasn’t jetlag.”

I froze. He had actually noticed. He always picked up on the things I tried hardest to hide.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked in a low voice.

“The same way you did?”

His jaw tightened.

For a moment, he looked as if he had just been slapped across the face. “I never—” He cut himself off, swallowing the rest of his sentence.

“It’s in the past,” I interrupted, glaring at him.

“You never gave me a chance to speak,” he repeated.

I turned away, leaving the kitchen to head back upstairs, not caring what else he had to say.

His heavy footsteps followed right behind me. Just as I turned around to slam my bedroom door shut, his hand caught the frame. His tall frame blocked my only way out.

“Get out, Luca.”

“What’s his name?”

“What?”

“The guy who made you cry.” He took a step forward, forcing me to back up. “Whoever he is, he has no right to touch you.”

“And you do?” I let out a bitter laugh. “You destroyed everything five years ago. Stop acting like you still have any say over my life!”

My back hit the cold wall beside the door. Both of his hands planted themselves on either side of my head, trapping me within the shadow of his body.

His breath brushed against my forehead. The scent of his cologne was sharp, suffocatingly familiar.

“I never lost my claim on you, Avery.”

Suddenly, the world around me faded.

It was no longer Luca’s face in front of me. I saw another pair of large hands choking my mother’s neck. A gasp for air. Silent eyes pleading for help.

My hands trembled violently, and not just from anger. My body recognized the pattern before my brain could even process what was happening.

“Let go.” My voice cracked. “Please. Let go of me.”

Something in my tone must have changed. Luca froze. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face, followed by something akin to horror. He took a step back, raising both hands halfway as if suddenly realizing what he had almost done.

“Ave—”

The phone in his pocket vibrated loudly and repeatedly. He ignored it at first, his eyes still locked onto mine.

Finally, he glanced down at the screen. His jaw set hard again—not because of me, but because of whatever message was displayed on the screen.

“I have to go.” His voice returned to its cold, controlled tone. Standing at the threshold, he paused without looking back. “We’re not finished.”

I slid down to the floor the moment his footsteps faded away.

It wasn't his words that left me so shaken; it was the expression he made right before he walked away—as if he were completely bewildered by my reaction.

Still, whenever he stepped into my space like that, I felt helpless, as though he were going to hurt me all over again.

And I was terrified.

***