Taking the phone in trembling hands, I feel a surge of anxiety knotting in my stomach. I know I need to reach out to Leila, to let her know I'm okay, but the thought of hearing her voice fills me with dread. With shaking fingers, I dial her number, my heart pounding in my chest with each ring. But the call goes straight to voicemail, and I'm left with a hollow ache in my chest. Leaving a brief message, my voice strained with emotion, I hang up, feeling more alone than ever.
Days pass in a haze of uncertainty as I try desperately to reach her, sending text after text into the void. But the messages never get delivered, and it's as if she's disappeared from my life entirely, leaving me adrift in a sea of doubt. Why didn’t she reach out? On Sunday we should have hung out. It was my secret and the only day Dad lets me breathe. Why didn’t she text me? Or call me?
Despite the crushing disappointment, I refuse to give up. I throw myself into my rehab with renewed determination, pushing my body to its limits in a desperate bid to regain my strength and independence.
Weeks blur into one another as I fight through the pain and exhaustion, clinging to the hope to get out of here and go see her. The days are like a déjà vu: the same routine, same exercise, new check ups, me trying to reach Leila up and then again get back in this fucking room. When my father shows up during lunch, I hold my breath when I meet his expression, stern and disapproving.
“Chris,” his voice is cold and clipped. “I expected you to recover much quicker than this. You've been wasting precious time.”
My jaw clenches with frustration, but I force myself to remain calm. “I'm doing the best I can, Dad,” I say through gritted teeth. “I'm not just going to bounce back overnight thanks to Nick.”
There's still an edge of impatience in his eyes. “Always ready to blame someone else for being the worst fighter ever.” He clicks his tongue. “You'll need to hurry up,” he says brusquely. “Seattle can’t wait around for you to get back on your feet.”
Seattle. The mere mention of the city sends a shiver down my spine. Perchè io?Why me?It should be Nicholas' responsibility, not mine. Since when does he want to hand off one of his business to me?
“What happened in the cage, Dad? Why didn’t you stop him?” I stupidly ask. Like when did he ever give a fuck on my life?
“It helped you learn a lesson.”
“Yeah, that Nick is a pussy and the only way to make him feel strong is to fake he’s better and not respond.” I sigh, “What if I wouldn’t have woken up?”
“That’s what happens when you tease a dog.” He shrugs, “Nicholas had a few stitches and it shouldn’t have happened.”
“Yeah,” I admit grudgingly. “But he had it coming.”
“Is a woman worth your life?”
I snap my gaze at him. Sapeva di me Leila?Does he know of me and Leila?
The satisfaction in my dad's voice cuts through me like a knife, piercing deep into my heart. It's a stark reminder of how little I matter in his eyes, how easily he overlooks my pain for the sake of my brother's happiness. “Nicholas si prenderà cura di lei.”Nicholas will take good care of her. I feel a surge of anger and betrayal boiling within me. No. She can’t. Fuck no.
My struggle amuses him. His laughter echoes in my ears, a mocking reminder of my place in this family. “Don't ruinNicholas' happiness,” he warns me, his tone laced with thinly veiled threats. “Or you'll face the consequences.”
I swallow down the bitter taste of resentment, forcing myself to nod in reluctant agreement. I know better than to defy my father, to risk his wrath for the sake of my own selfish desires. But deep down, a part of me rebels against the injustice of it all, screaming silently for justice.
When the day comes and I'm discharged from the hospital, my body's weak and battered from weeks of rehabilitation. As I step out into the cool evening air, a sense of freedom washes over me, mingled with a heavy weight of uncertainty. Valentino, dad’s driver, waits for me to get in the car and I do. He pulls out of the parking lot in silence following for sure dad’s order.
“Go Newton Avenue 66, please,” I instruct, tapping my fingers on my knee.
Valentino meets my eyes in the rearview, “I’ve been told to drive you to the airport, sir.”
The airport? No goodbye, no stop home? “I need my stuff and passport too.”
“Viola got everything sorted,” he drives across downtown and I see the street she lives on getting closer each second. “I don’t want to get in trouble.” I can sense his fear and I get it. Dad never gives second chances and that’s why they know to whom to vow their loyalty. But as we round the corner and see Nicholas' car parked outside her building, my heart shatters into a thousand fragments.
It's true. They're together. And in that moment, all the pain and betrayal come crashing down on me with a force that threatens to break me apart.
“Take me to the airport.” I flop my head back and control my breath. There’s nothing here for me anymore. Tornerò, Nicholas. È una promessa, e te ne pentirai di aver preso la miadonna.I’ll be back, Nicholas. This is a promise and you’ll regret taking my girl.
CHAPTER 1
LEILA
Ipause in front of the mirror. The memories of my days with Chris flood my mind like a torrential downpour, each moment etched into my heart with vivid clarity. It was the best period of my life, a time filled with laughter, companionship, and the sweet warmth of budding romance. Of course, there were highs and lows, moments of blissful euphoria and heart-wrenching sorrow, but through it all, Chris was something special. He stood out from the crowd during the bonfire we had on the beach, his easy smile and magnetic presence drawing me in like a moth to a flame. There was something about him, something indefinable yet undeniably compelling, that captured my attention from the moment our eyes met.
Two weeks. That’s how long it took me to fall for him, slowly but surely, like a leaf carried on a gentle breeze. He was kind, caring, and fiercely protective, his presence a comforting presence in a world filled with uncertainty. There were moments when I felt so close to him, so connected, that I longed to lean in and kiss him, to bridge the gap between us and lose myself in the warmth of his embrace. But each time, fear held me back, andthe nagging doubt whispered in the back of my mind, reminding me of the risks of crossing that invisible boundary.
And then came the day when everything changed, when the fragile bubble burst with a resounding pop. It was supposed to be a special day, a day when I finally gathered the courage to tell him how I felt, to confess that I wanted to be more than just friends. But as the hours ticked by and Chris failed to show up, my heart sank with each passing moment, until the bitter realization dawned upon me that he wasn't coming. His voicemail greeted me every time I called, a cruel reminder of his absence, of his betrayal. I felt a surge of anger and hurt coursing through my veins, mingled with a sense of disbelief and disappointment. How could he do this to me? How could he abandon me without a word, without an explanation?
