I came close to snapping the finger off the hand that had reached out to touch my shoulder. My grandfather. His eyes were quick, and they had already spotted what I had. It had to be my blood, the blood that belonged to mine. A lot of holes were still gaping in this fucking cage, but this one seemed to fill itself in for me. They had burned her things and had rammed her head into the wall. It explained the gash Saverio had to stitch up. The one that had given her a concussion.
“I’m taking the coat and the vanity,” I said to the men around me. “That’s it. And after that, burn this place to the fucking ground.”
My grandfather squeezed my shoulder and saidgoodin Italian. Then my father helped me carry the vanity out before we torched the motherfucker.
Chapter 15
Stella
Ihad no clue what to make of the woman that Scarlett, Matteo’s mom, called Maggie Beautiful, and that Matteo and his sister, Mia, called Magpie. She was as gorgeous as Scarlett, but in a different way. Magpie was an Italian screen siren, whereas Scarlett was a classic beauty. Of course she was. She was a ballerina who had deep roots in that world. She’d told me that much after Magpie (she said Imustcall her that because all the kids did) encouraged her to tell me. It was Magpie who told me Scarlett was world-famous, though.
Scarlett seemed to know too much as she looked at me with such kind green eyes. There was something so warm about her. The same warmth I felt when Matteo was nearby. She was motherly, and I felt comfortable with her, but for some reason, I felt even more comfortable with Magpie. Maybe because there was something wild and free about her. Something that reminded me of my mom. And I think Scarlett knew that. She wasn’t offended by it either. I thought maybe she would get mad and stomp out, but she didn’t. After Magpie had us watch a bunch of old movies, Scarlett offered to go to the cafeteria and get us a bunch of snacks. Mia went with her.
I really liked Mia too. She was upbeat and positive. And, like her mom, she seemed to know too much. It seemed like they were both avoiding the topic of dance. Maybe because they knew I wasn’t ready to spill my guts about it all.
Earlier that day, I had decided I needed to be honest with Matteo. Tell him my entire life’s story and ask him for help. Whoever these people were, they were powerful, and if anyone could help me, I knew it was Matteo. He kept promising me things, things that had the power to kill me if he didn’t deliver. But for whatever reason, when I gazed into his dark, powerful eyes, I believed every word from his mouth. It was like he was speaking from some place much deeper.
Maybe it was my lame brain trying to bring my fantasy to life, but everything inside of me told me this was reality, and he was the most real thing in my life. It was like he’d been designed to save me, and he was meant for me. I could hear Régine and her daughter’s mocking laughter when these thoughts came to me.
That gorgeous man was meant for you?
Hahahahahaha.
You foolish girl!
You are so stupid!
Stupid Stella! Stupid Stella! Stupid Stella!
I covered my face with a pillow while the black and white movie flashed in the background of the hospital room. Magpie’s winged liner and red lipstick looking so old fashioned in the grey tone of the room. I tried to time my breathing to the frantic pace of my heart while the sounds of those awful voices seemed to haunt me. I knewRégine was lying about Matteo and his family wanting to hurt me, but it was hard to overcome the uncertainty of my entire life. And trying to match my breaths to my frantic heart was not helping. It was making things worse.
What if Régine was right? And this was all some ploy to get answers out of me? What if Matteo was just playing me?
How could I survive that? It would crush me emotionally. All my physical wounds were healing fast enough, but the other ones, the internal ones, those were going nowhere. Those might be the ones to kill me.
A sane voice inside asked,“Don’t you think if Matteo wanted to kill you, he could have easily done it before this?”
Yeah, but what if this family needed answers from me? Maybe that was why they were keeping me alive.
The pillow was whipped off my face and Matteo, the man with the face of an avenging angel, stood over me. A smokey tinge clung to him, and in that moment, I was so fucking jealous of it. For the first time since I entered the hospital, I used all my energy to fling my arms around his neck and pull myself as close as possible to him. He lifted me up and cradled me in his arms, then rocked me until my heart settled and I could breathe normally again.
“Are you going to kill me?” I asked, my voice stronger than my arms.
He slowly pried me loose, but he didn’t push me that far away. Only enough to look into my eyes. “Forget anything that fucking family told you,” he said, his voice low but fierce. “I would die, rip out my own heart for the enemy to steal, before I touched you wrong.” He reached over and grabbed something, covering me with it. His coat.
The familiarity in it made me want to sob, but all I could do was look into his eyes. If I broke, maybe I would never be able to put myself back together again. Looking into Matteo’s eyes, a truth hit me.
Even if I broke, he’d know how to put me together again. I was broken on the outside when he found me. I was healing. Maybe my physical wounds were a representation of what was going on inside of me.
This truth gave me the courage to not look away from his stare or shy away from it. I needed to feel it on me. To feel the shield he’d placed on me when the entire world felt like it was throwing arrows at me. I’d dodged them for so long, and then…Matteo and his coat came along. He’d given me a reason to want to live again. To feel that fire I’d once felt when I thought the world included only me and my mom—the best place to be.
“You want brutal honesty from me?”
I nodded.
His eyes narrowed a bit, but nothing about them had gone stony. If anything, they had become softer somehow. “Na muri scrivutu ne stiddi, orun amore scritto nelle stelle.In Sicilian or Italian, the words mean,a love that is written in the stars. I knew it the moment I found you on that stage. You stole my heart. And that’s something a man like me, a Fausti, takes seriously. Love is as serious and true as our word when we feel it.”
“You love me?” I squeaked out.
