CHAPTER 3
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ARIANA'S POV
My head ached as I sat on the cold bathroom floor, knees pulled tight to my chest, arms wrapped around them.Every twitch of my body burned from the torture Nicola had put me through last night.The memories clawed back all at once, twisting my stomach until I ran to the sink and threw up.
When I was done, I stumbled back into the room where Nicola was still asleep.I didn’t want to lie beside him again—I needed air.I turned toward the balcony and quietly opened the door.I already knew where the keys were; I’d seen him hide them.
But even knowing that, I couldn’t leave yet.I couldn’t go without my mother.If I escaped, she was coming with me.
I stepped onto the balcony, looked up at the dark sky, and began counting the stars.My fingers slipped into my pocket and pulled out a small, worn piece of paper.I unfolded it, throat tightening as my eyes met the picture of Alessandro.A tear slid down my cheek, landing on the page like always.If only he were here—I wouldn’t be living this hell.
“Why are you awake so early?”
His voice shattered the quiet.I gasped, clutching the picture and shoving it back into my pocket before turning.He stood there rubbing his eyes, groggy.I swallowed hard, trembling under his gaze.
“I needed fresh air...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” I started, bracing for a slap or a shout.But nothing came.Instead, Nicola stepped closer.
“Come here,” he murmured, sitting on the swinging chair and patting the seat beside him.His tone was unusually calm.That made it worse.I obeyed, afraid of provoking him.
“Ariana,” he said—his voice firm, the softness gone.
I sat beside him, keeping my shoulders tense and my body distant.He took my hand and stroked it gently before pressing a kiss to my skin.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
He said that often.But his words didn’t stir the warmth they once did when Alessandro said them.Back then, it meant something.Now, it hollowed me out.I felt nothing but isolation.The only person I saw, every hour of every day, was Nicola—and I was sick of him.
“What are you thinking, detka?”he asked, eyes narrowing.“Are you okay?”
“Y-Yes...I’m fine,” I said quickly.He studied me, brows raised.Silence stretched between us, rare and fragile.I liked it.With Nicola, silence never lasted long—either he’d yell, strike, or demand I speak.I turned my eyes back to the stars, counting again, calming myself before his mood shifted.One minute he’d touch my skin like I was glass; the next, he’d tear it open.
“Ariana, I’ve been thinking,” he said suddenly.“Since our wedding is coming soon...how about we go shopping?”
My heart froze.Shopping?That word barely felt real in his mouth.For a second, the shock lit something like hope in me.A smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it.It had been years since he’d made me smile.And I hated that it still felt good, even knowing it wouldn’t last.
“I...Nicola...are you sure?”I asked, trying to read his face.He looked soft, kind even—an expression I hadn’t seen in five years.
