Hey, everyone! Hope you’re loving the story so far! Don’t forget to drop your thoughts and hit that vote button, I seriously live for your comments. So, who do you think the mystery texter is? Don’t worry, I won’t keep you guys hanging for too long. X O X O 💋
Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡“I deserve it. I ruined you. I ruined us. And I’m still ruining you… now.” How could he say that? How could he even think it? I wanted to grab him, crush him against me, cover every bruise with my mouth until they disappeared, until he believed he was worth everything to me. But his skin was draining of color, lips I’d kissed a thousand times fading from pink to a sickly blue that made bile claw up my throat. A slick of sweat glazed his temple. The world narrowed to the rhythm of his ribs rising and falling, and terror tunneled through me.I needed to do something. Anything. Move him. Get help. Rip him out of those ropes and run until Remo couldn’t find us. My brain offered frantic lists but my hands refused to obey. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Remo. Just standing there. Cigarette dangling, ash spilling, that slow, satisfied grin twisting his mouth as he watched Adriano bleed out like it was nothing, like it was a show.Just as my hand twitched toward
Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡 I scooped Nero up and buried my face in him, cheeks, tiny temple, the soft slope of his skull. I kissed him until my lips burned, his pudgy hands, the hollow of his throat, the puckered roll above his feet. What if I never held him again? What if I die? I wasn't strong, trained or even experienced in any of this but I was willing to go to any length just to get to Adriano, I don't even have a plan as to how I'd get him out of there but I just know, I need to be with him. I wiped my face with the back of my wrist and eased him into the crib. His little fists curled around nothing. I grabbed a paper and a pen and wrote with a hand that wouldn’t stop shaking. “Claire, please. Take care of him. I don't know if I'll ever be back. I only trust you with him.” I tucked the paper into his swaddle, smoothed the blanket over him and kissed his forehead once more. No. I wasn’t taking my son to Remo. I wouldn’t take him anywhere near that man. His uncl
Adriano ⫘☠︎︎⫘ The world was upside down when I came to... literally. Blood dripped from my nose, my chest, my mouth, sliding up over my face because gravity is a cruel bastard when you’re hanging by your ankles. The ropes bit into my skin, and every muscle in me screamed, but I didn’t make a sound. Pain was a language I already spoke fluently. I blinked through the haze, vision swimming red, and there he was. Remo Lombardi. Grinning like a wolf who finally cornered his prey. His teeth flashed white in the dim light, his eyes glittering with that arrogance only a man drunk on power could pull off. He looked at me like I was already dead, like he had already carved me into pieces in his mind and was just choosing where to start. “Rise and shine, Capone,” he drawled, pacing slow, like he was on stage. “Though I guess in your case it’s more... hang and bleed.” I spat blood onto the concrete beneath me, lips twisting into a grin that hurt like hell but felt good anyway, “That
Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡 The store looked more like a cathedral than a store, the faint smell of leather and expensive cologne instead of baby powder. I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that baby clothes could cost more than rent when I pulled a tiny black onesie from a rack and held it up. The lettering glittered in silver thread: Mommy is better than Daddy. I grinned so wide my cheeks hurt. “We’re getting this one.” Adriano’s eyes flicked up from the row of absurdly tiny Armani jackets he was inspecting. He arched one dark brow at the onesie, then at me. “Cute,” he drawled, “But completely inaccurate. Everyone knows I’m better at parenting than you.” I laughed, hugging the onesie to my chest, “Says who? You?” my grin widened, “Because you’re literally the only person who thinks that.” He stepped closer, towering over me in that tailored black suit that probably cost more than the store’s rent. My heart felt like it was glowing, “And our son deserves to
Adriano ⫘☠︎︎⫘ I’m going to kill him. One way or another. Remo’s blood will be on my hands, and I don’t care which god or judge has to tally it at the end. I thumbed the file open, and saw Adelina, sitting under a harsh lamp. Her face was the only light in the image, and that calm made me want to smash the phone against the wall and then press it into Remo’s mouth so he could hear it again and again. I hit play. “My name is Adelina Coppola, but I go by Adelina Lombardi...” I didn't care about wrecking weddings but this was tied to Alessia's happiness. The part of me that wanted to protect Alessia screamed to keep this quiet, but the part that wanted to rip Remo out by the roots won, every time. I sent it, straight to Rino's phone, to other families, to the people I knew would leak like a sieve once the water found the first hole. I hit forward, watched the little blue “delivered” bloom. The thing about vengeance is you can dress it however you like but at the heart of it there
Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡 I followed Adelina into the ladies’ room and barely had the door swing closed behind us when her fingers closed around my wrist and she dragged me inside. The lock clicked before I could blink. For a split second, panic flared, this was Adelina Lombardi. Her last name carried the same violence mine now did, but hers wasn’t my family. The Capones were mine now. My people. My family. And she was still, in some ways, the other side. “Shh,” she whispered, “I—are you okay? Are you—” her questions came clipped and messy. “I’m fine… how are you?” I asked cautiously. “Did you make it safe to your brother that night?” She nodded too fast. “Yes. I’m glad Remo was there to take me. But...” she bit down on her lip, “I also know you ran, and he still came for you. I wish I’d given you Remo’s number or anything, a way to call us. We would’ve helped you,” her fingers tightened around my wrist. “My brother never leaves a debt unpaid. You saved me. You saved us. Without y