MasukSTOP. BREATHE. WE NEED TO DISCUSS THIS. I need to know your state of mind right now! Your thoughts? Are you screaming at Rino's cruelty? Do you think Alessia is still to blame or if Rino had taken his revenge already? Hit the comment section! I LIVE for your reactions! Are you team Alessia (despite the lies) or team Rino (despite the sociopathy)? Let me know! XOXO 💋 -Jane 🌹
Rino ─𖤝─ My arm throbbed, a hot, pulsing reminder of the bullet that had grazed me at the bottom of the hill. I could feel the blood soaking into my shirt, but I didn't care. The physical pain was nothing. It was background noise compared to the way my chest felt like it was being ripped open from the inside out. I stood there, looking at her. My wife. My life. My love. She was pressed against the wall, her eyes wide and terrified, staring at me like I was some kind of monster. "Why, Alessia?" I asked, and my own voice sounded like it was coming from miles away. I looked at the locket on the floor, then back at her. I felt this sick mix of love and pure, blinding rage. I’d spent years building this for us. Every move I made, every person I had to take off the board, it was all to get her here with me. "If I’m a liar, then what are you?" I let out a bitter, jagged laugh that scraped my throat. "You married me. You looked me in the eye and said the vows. But you never trusted m
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ The wheels hit the tarmac with a violent thud, a jarring reminder that I was thousands of miles away from my family. I didn't wait for the "fasten seatbelt" sign to turn off. I unbuckled and stood up, my legs feeling like lead. Rino reached for my arm, his face softened as if he hadn't just destroyed my entire life. "Alessia, let me—" "Don't," I snapped, pulling back so hard I hit the bulkhead. "Don't you ever touch me again." The look in his eyes was dark, but I didn't care. I turned my back on him and walked toward the exit. The flight attendant opened the door, and the warm, salty air of the Mediterranean hit me in the face. It should have felt like paradise. Instead, it felt like the smell of a prison. I stepped out onto the metal stairs, and the cold seeped into my feet. The grated steel bit into the soles of my bare feet. I stopped dead, staring down at my toes. I was still in my nightgown, showing more skin publicly than I ever did in my entire life, the l
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ I blinked, and then slowly stood up and wiped the tears off my face with the back of my hand, "You made a blood pact with me," I reminded him, "You looked me in the eye and said as long as I said yes... as long as I chose you, you’d never hurt the Capone name again. Not the men, not the businesses, nothing. You bled for it. You swore it. You shook my hand... were you lying even then?" "Alessia..." He let out a long, frustrated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face like I was the one being difficult. "Were you lying?" I repeated, stepping closer, my heart screaming for him to deny it. "I—" "Yes or no! Were you lying to me? Was every word out of your mouth a goddamn lie?!" "I can explain—" "Yes or no?" "It's not that simple—" "YES OR NO, GODDAMN IT!" I shrieked, the sound tearing through the room. "YES! I FUCKING LIED!" he snapped back, his temper finally exploding, "I lied, Alessia! Is that what you want to hear?" A cold, hollow feeling started in my fingerti
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ The video began to play, and the world simply stopped turning. It was a sight so visceral, so haunting, that it didn't just make my soul recoil, it made me want to die. I leaned closer to the screen, my eyes wide and stinging, because I saw Adriano. But I couldn't find him. I couldn't find my beautiful boy in that mess of purple, blue, and deep, wet red. His face was so swollen, so distorted by the bruises, that he looked like a stranger. "No," I choked out, the word catching in my throat, "No, no, no..." He was tied down to a chair, his arms lashed to the sides so tightly his hands were turning gray. A thick strap held his chest back against the slats, and his chest... God, his chest was stained with nothing but blood, and still trails of dark blood was still splashing onto his lap. Every time he tried to take a breath, his chest rattled, a wet, broken sound that tore through me. Suddenly, a hand appeared on the screen. A loud, sharp sob broke out of my chest
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ I forced a smile back, and tightened my hold on him, desperate to stay in this bubble for as long as the world would let us. But Rino wasn't the kind of man you could hide from. He didn't just look at me; he mapped me. He felt the slight tremor in my fingers, the way my smile didn't quite reach my eyes. He pulled back just enough to look me in the face, his hands moving to my waist to hold me. His dark brows pulled together. "What's that?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave. "What's what?" I asked. "That smile." I blinked, "What about it?" As I tried to play it off, reaching for the spatula to turn the heat off the stove. "The eggs are going to get cold, Rino. Sit down." He didn't move. He stayed rooted to the spot, his grip on my waist tightening enough to let me know he wasn't going anywhere. "That look," he said, his eyes narrowing as they searched mine. "The fake smile, Alessia. Don’t do that with me. What’s wrong? Did I push too hard last night? Ar
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ The screen of Rino’s phone went black, reflecting my own worried expression back at me. I let it slip from my hand, the device thudding softly onto the sheets. My chest, which had been light and warm only moments ago, started to tighten. I’d tried Vincenzo’s number six times and six times, the automated voice told me he wasn't available. I stared at the closed bathroom door, the muffled sound of the shower echoing in the room. Was he okay? Was everyone okay? I bit the side of my thumb, my eyes darting to the window where the Ligurian moon was hanging low. My mind started to do that thing it always did, it started to invent monsters. I hadn't been away from my boys for this long since we buried Isabella. "Stop it," I whispered to the empty room, shaking my head so hard my hair whipped my shoulders. "Just stop." They were fine. They had to be fine. It was probably just the time difference. I tried to do the mental math—Chicago was seven hours behind? Ahead? Six







