LOGINGIULIA's POV Luca pulled up to the church and stopped the car. I reached for the handle. His hand caught mine. I turned. “This might be the last time we meet,” he said. “What?” He looked at my hand in his. “You’re a good person Giulia.” His thumb moved once across my knuckles. “I’m sorry. For how we may have met and anything else after this.” “Luca what—” “Take care of yourself.” He let go. “Please.” I got out. Stood there and watched him drive away until he was gone. ‘I’m sorry for how we may have met.’ Dimitri pulled up before I could make sense of it. He drove in silence. I let him. We got to the hotel. Our family’s. He’d known without being told. The room door had barely closed behind us. “Giulia—” “I’m sorry,” I said. “No.” He crossed the room. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I let you go through all of that alone. I can’t forgive myself—” I kissed him. “Giulia—” I kissed him again. Deeper. My hands pulling him by the collar. “I don’t want
AUTHOR’S POV The slap came before she could finish the sentence. Gia’s head snapped to the side. She didn’t make a sound. She’d learned a long time ago that making a sound only made it worse. “How did you pay your mother’s medical bills.” Marco Santoro’s voice was very calm. That was the thing about him, he was always calmest when he was most dangerous. “You’ve been stealing from me.” Gia straightened. Touched her cheek once. Looked at him directly. “How would I steal from you when you’re the most stingy man alive.” The second slap was harder than the first. “Watch your tone.” He stepped closer. “Young lady.” The room was small. Two of his men stood by the door saying nothing, looking at nothing, the way men in his world learned to make themselves invisible when the boss was displeased. The door opened. A third man entered and handed Marco a paper without a word. Marco looked down at it. His expression didn’t change immediately. That was how you knew it was bad, wh
ENZO’S POV It had been a full day. No Giulia. No call, no message, no trace. Bruno’s men had eyes on the road she’d taken but after the cliff the trail went cold. No cameras, no witnesses, nothing. She’d vanished into Sicily like she’d never existed and I was standing outside my grandfather’s villa lying to an eighty one year old man’s face. “She needed air,” I told Nonno. “A short trip. She’ll be back.” Nonno looked at me from his chair on the terrace. He had that way of silence that had always made me feel like a child, not because he was threatening, but because he simply knew too much to be fooled easily. “Giulia doesn’t take short trips without telling me,” he said finally. “She told me.” “And you’re telling me now.” “Yes.” Another silence. He picked up his espresso, drank it slowly, set it down. “Is she safe?” “Yes.” I said it without hesitation because I had to believe it. Because the alternative was something I wasn’t able to sit with. He looked at me f
GIULIA’S POV I switched my phone off the moment I got in Luca’s car. Thirty minutes of dark road and neither of us said anything. He drove and let the silence be what it was. We pulled up to a house at the end of a narrow road. I looked at him. “How does a gardener have a place like this?” He got out of the car, came around, opened my door. “My uncle’s.” I stepped out. “You’re sure he won’t mind?” “He’s not here.” “That’s not what I asked.” That almost smile. There and gone. “He won’t mind.” He poured wine without asking. Set a glass in front of me and sat across from me, not beside me, and I noted that without saying anything about it. We sat like that for a while. “You’re not going to ask me anything?” I said eventually. He looked at me over his glass. “No.” “Most people would.” “I’m not most people.” I looked at him. Then looked away. Four years. That’s what kept running through my head. Four years of Dimitri knowing exactly how I took my coffee,
He made eggs. Simple and nothing fancy. I sat at the table in my robe and watched him move around the kitchen and tried not to think about the woman in heels who’d left too quickly to be any cleaning lady I’d ever seen. I let it go. For now. He set the plate in front of me and sat across from me and we ate the way we’d done everything since last night… quietly, without filling the silence just to fill it. I’d forgotten that was possible with someone. Dimitri always needed the silence occupied. Music, conversation, the television on in the background. He didn’t know how to just sit. Luca sat like silence was somewhere he lived. I looked around the room. Then out the window at the grounds outside. The house was modest from the outside but inside everything was chosen carefully. Nothing cheap. Nothing careless. “Your uncle,” I said. “He must be doing very well for himself.” Luca looked up. “I mean this place.” I gestured vaguely. “The car you drive. A gardener’s salary doesn’t c
NINA’S POV I was pacing the living room back and forth. I felt guilty. Giulia had been going through all of that right in front of me, and I hadn’t noticed—not once. Behind every smile, every joke, every easy laugh, she’d been carrying something heavy, and I’d been too wrapped up in my own mess to see it. I grabbed my phone and called Enzo. He answered on the second ring. “Have you found her?” “Not yet.” “Oh my God.” I pressed my hand to my forehead. “Please tell me she’s okay.” “We’ll find her. I’m on my way back to the villa, she’ll be okay.” “Okay,” I said. “Okay.” The call ended. I sat back down on the couch and stared at nothing. The guest house was completely quiet. Too quiet. My leg brushed something on the floor. Enzo’s bag. I had helped him carry it inside. It toppled over, the zipper already half open, contents shifting. I picked it up and was about to close it when I saw it. A blue folder. A photograph sticking out halfway, just enough to catch
“I heard the gunshot.”“He killed someone. Right in front of me. Just…” I made a gun with my hand, pointed it at my own head. “No hesitation. No mercy. And then he looked at me like I was the one who’d done something wrong. Like I’d crossed some line by being there.”“I know.”“Do you? Do you know
I got everything. Shoes that were more art than footwear. A bag that cost more than my monthly rent used to be. Earrings. A necklace. A bracelet. Every time the saleswoman suggested something, I said yes. Every time she showed me the price, I watched Enzo’s face for a reaction. He never gav
“See you, bro,” Nico said, his voice carefully neutral. Enzo didn’t respond. Just started walking, pulling me with him. I barely had time to grab my purse, barely had time to say goodbye to Nico before we were moving through the restaurant, past the staring faces, out into the cool night air.
Sleep wasn’t coming. I’d been staring at the ceiling for two hours, replaying the kiss. His hands. The way he’d grabbed me in the car like I was the only thing keeping him tethered to earth. Then the drug bust, always about business. I threw off the covers and grabbed the robe from the bathro







