“Vito, no.Not now—you promised!”Mom’s voice cracked behind him.
I looked past D’Angelo’s shoulder at her, her face streaked with tears.Confusion twisted in my stomach.What was she talking about?What promise?
“Keep quiet, Valentina!”he barked.“I’ll do whatever I want—whenever I want!”
She flinched at his tone, her body trembling.She couldn’t even bring herself to meet my eyes.That was when I knew—this was bad.My palms were slick with sweat, my heart hammering painfully in my chest.
Then his next words broke me.
“The wedding will take place in three weeks,” he announced coldly.“And you have no choice but to agree.”
It felt like the world collapsed around me.My knees buckled before I could stop them, and I fell to the floor, sobbing.My vision blurred as I stared up at the man who called himself my father.I couldn’t even think of him that way anymore—not after everything he’d done.
By the time I looked up again, D’Angelo was gone.The door slammed shut behind him, leaving only Mom and me in the silence that followed.She rushed toward me, tears streaming down her face.
“Caro, mia stella,” she whispered, kneeling beside me and pulling me into her arms.“I am so sorry.I should have told you.I should have told you before he did.”
I shook my head weakly against her shoulder.“No, Mom, it isn’t your fault.You’re helpless...and I knew this day would come.”
She stayed with me that night.Nicola wasn’t home, and for once, the house felt less suffocating.We sat together for hours, sometimes talking, sometimes silent.For the first time in a long while, I felt a fragment of peace in her embrace.She promised me that everything would be fine—that the wedding wouldn’t happen—but I didn’t know how that could possibly be true.
“Ariana,” she said softly after a long pause, “there are three weeks left until the wedding.We can think of something.”
“Mom, stop,” I said, pulling away to look at her.“It’s too risky.I don’t want to risk either of our lives.You know what D’Angelo is capable of.”I shook my head firmly.“We can’t.”
“But what about Alessandro?”she asked suddenly.
My breath caught.“What about him?He’s dead.”
“Ariana, sweetie...”Her voice softened to a whisper.“You don’t know that.”
I lifted my head from her lap and stared at her, startled.There was a strange light in her eyes—hope.Hope I hadn’t seen in years.
“What do you mean?”I asked, my voice trembling.
“I mean, you don’t know if Alessandro is actually dead.”
I sighed, shaking my head.“Mom, I was there.I saw it happen.I watched him get shot, and I waited for him to get up—but he didn’t.”My throat tightened as the memory burned behind my eyelids.“There’s no way he’s alive.”
“Did you check his pulse?”Mom asked suddenly.
The question hit me like a knife.“No...”I whispered.My stomach dropped as realization crept in.“Mom, I didn’t check his pulse.I—I don’t think—”
“Ariana,” she said quickly, gripping my hand.“The reason your father is rushing the wedding, the reason it’s happening so soon, is because he suspects Alessandro isn’t dead.”
I froze, staring at her in disbelief.“What?”My eyes widened.“W-why?How do you know that?”
“I overheard him talking to Nicola about it,” she confessed, her voice trembling.
It suddenly made sense.All of it.
I knew Mom still believed Alessandro was alive—but now, I wasn’t sure what to think.Maybe it was foolish not to check his pulse that night, but part of me couldn’t let myself believe otherwise.If Alessandro was truly alive...he would’ve come for me.
He would’ve found me.
He would’ve taken me out of this hell years ago..
“Mom...”I whisper, my voice trembling.“I don’t know...”
