تسجيل الدخولAUTHOR’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
ENZO’S POV I didn’t go after her immediately. Bruno was already on his phone before I could tell him. Tracking the car. I gave him thirty seconds then turned to look at Dimitri. He hadn’t moved from the same spot. His composed untouchable face that looked good on campaign posters and senate floors had completely fallen apart. Youngest senator in his district, the kind of man that made older men shift uncomfortably in rooms and right now he looked like someone had reached into his chest and removed something essential. “She went through that alone because of what you said.” I kept my voice even. “You know that.” “I didn’t know she was pregnant.” “She didn’t tell you because of whatever you said to her. That’s not the same thing.” His jaw worked. “I know the difference.” “Do you? Because you showed up here like she owed you an explanation.” “I showed up because she disappeared for weeks and stopped answering my calls—” “She lost a baby, Dimitri.” The words came out h
They came for me three hours later. Dr. White, says the name on her tag. She entered first, her expression professionally neutral. Behind her, two nurses with a wheelchair. And behind them, standing in the doorway like a dark shadow, Enzo. “How are you feeling, Nina?” Dr. White asked, checking
NINA's POV The IV drip was steady. I watched it fall, counting the drops because it was easier than thinking about how I’d ended up here. In a private room. Hooked up to fluids. Nico sat in the chair beside the bed, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. He’d been quiet for the past ten minute
The tears had finally stopped, leaving my face sticky and swollen. I lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling tiles, counting them for the hundredth time. Anything to keep my mind from replaying every drama. What kind of answer was that? What was I supposed to do with that? The IV drip con
“Nina—” “I said get out.” The door burst open. Nico rushed in, pushing past me to get to her side. “Don’t you get it, bro?” he said, not even looking at me. “She needs you to leave.” “Stay out of this, Nico.” “Or else what?” He finally looked at me, and the contempt in his eyes was worse







