Chapter Five

[ AMELIA'S POV]

Three years ago, I would have panicked at the sight of the all too familiar handwriting. But not now. Right now, it just leaves an unsettling feeling in my stomach.

He's watching me.

That means the freak is here in this very club. And to think I was celebrating getting rid of him.

Deciding not to dwell on it, I tear up the paper and head out to find Luxe. I find her in the dressing room getting ready for another night of making men spend their cash.

" If it ain't mi favourite bitch in town!” She rushes towards me and envelopes me in a tight, almost suffocating hug. “Girl I missed yo ass like crazy!"

I laugh, stepping further into the room. “I missed you too, Luxe."

She looks me up from my head to my toe and whistles. “Damn girl you are fine as fuck. Your fiance sure is treating you well."

“Yeah," I breathe out, falling back flat on the bed. “If only he weren't my grandfather with a huge turn off in the form of a pot belly."

Luxe laughs and returns her gaze to the mirror, resuming her make up. “Yeah. You're right tho. It would have been great if it were one of his fine as fuck nephews."

That single sentence makes my pussy throb in remembrance of how brutally Rafè had taken my mouth last night. I still taste his cum on my tongue and it's rather pleasing. More than I would have liked.

I shake my head and lie flat on the bed. “I'm glad it ain't one of his nephews.”

Luxe stares at me like I've lost my mind. " Girl! Those men are…" she lets out a long whistle. “I'd give anything for one of them to fuck me. I'm damn sure it's gonna be an experience to remember."

I laugh. Luxe is one hell of a crazy girl. I sit up and stare at her. “I got this letter, while in the bathroom and I'm pretty sure it's Lucas."

" Isn't he supposed to be in jail?”

" Well apparently he's out of jail and back to stalking me.” I feel my heart rate picking up just by talking about him so I stand up, move to the window and take in several long deep breaths.

Two years of him not being around and I almost forgot how a panic attack feels. Two years of him being in jail and I almost forgot how the mention of his name has me turning into a trembling mess with sweaty hands. Two months of him being in jail and I totally forgot that my life isn't a fairytale but a nightmare.

Memories come rushing in. Beatings, rape sessions, locking me up…

My breath hitches.

I try to breathe in, but I can't. It's like my airway has been blocked. After several pants I finally let the air in.

My fingers dig into the windowsill as the air finally scrapes into my lungs—sharp, painful, useless.

But it doesn’t stay, it doesn’t fill me, ust leaves again, too fast, too shallow.

Not enough.

My vision swims and black dots scatter in front of me like spilled ink. The room feels too small, too tight, closing in as though Lucas himself is behind me, breathing down my neck the way he used to when I couldn’t scream loud enough.

My knees buckle, but a pair of hands catch me before it can hit the floor.

“Amy?” Luxe’s voice cuts through the ringing in my ears, but it sounds distant, like it's coming from underwater. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

I can’t answer. My mouth opens but no sound comes out. My throat is closing. My chest is clamping in on itself, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing..

I feel Luxe lower both of us to the floor.

The cold tiles hit my knees but I barely feel it. My hands shake uncontrollably as I clutch at my chest, nails digging into my skin. I can’t breathe. Goodness, I can’t…

“Hey…hey! Look at me.” Luxe is suddenly in front of me, her hands on my face, warm and grounding. Her dark eyes widen in alarm. “Shit, Amelia, you’re having a panic attack. Breathe with me, okay? In…out. Look at me. Look at me!”

I try.

I swear I try.

But the moment I inhale, memories slam into me like a blow:

His hand around my hair, his voice in my ear, the sound of a lock sliding into place.

The feeling of being owned.

My chest convulses, and my breath comes out in broken sobs

Luxe grabs my trembling hands and presses them to her chest. “Feel that? My breathing. Match me, babe. Nice and slow. You’re safe. He’s not here. You’re safe.”

Safe.

The word feels foreign, like it belongs to someone else’s life. I've never been safe. From my Mom to Lucas and now Alberto. Safe isn't a word you'd associate with me.

My body is shaking so violently now that Luxe wraps her arms around me entirely, pulling me into her, grounding me. Her perfume—sweet vanilla and something warm—forces its way through the panic fog. It anchors me.

“Count with me,” she murmurs, rocking us gently. “1… 2… 3… breathe in. Good. Now out.”

I try to follow.

My breaths come in ragged, uneven bursts, but they come. My fingers slowly unclench from her shirt. My lungs stop burning. The room stops spinning.

Little by little, the crushing weight on my chest lifts, just enough for me to take one deeper breath.

Then another.

Then a third.

My forehead rests against Luxe’s shoulder as hot tears slip down my face.

“I thought he was gone,” I choke out, voice raw. “I really thought…”

Luxe’s hold tightens. “He can’t touch you now. You hear me? Not ever again. Not while you got me. Not while you got…them.”

Them.

I know she means Alberto and his family, because of course the Mafia protect their own.

But somehow, my mind focuses on Rafè and his brothers. The nephews I shouldn’t even think about.

But the memory of last night flickers through me like a spark in a dark room, unexpected and terrifyingly comforting.

I swallow hard, wiping my face with trembling hands.

“What if he doesn’t stop?” My voice is barely a whisper. My mind is still dazed and I still can't think properly. “What if he comes back for me?”

Luxe looks at me like she wants to rip him apart with her bare hands.

“Then he’ll have an army waiting for him,” she says. “Starting with me.”

I inhale, long and shaky, my entire frame trembling as Luxe holds me close.

In my blurred vision, I see someone step into the room and walk towards us. They kneel beside Luxe and she gently passes me over. I'm instantly enveloped by the scent of wild berries before I feel it.

Cold lips pressed against mine.