The phone vibrates with an incoming video call, and I check my bedroom door is locked before racing into my bathroom to answer it.
“The clock is ticking, my little American Barbie,” he croons as he forces Mom to her knees in front of the camera. She’s naked, but it’s nothing new. I’ve almost forgotten what it looks like to see her clothed. “I thought you might need an added incentive.” His dark grin sends chills creeping up my spine. “Watch.”
Pushing Mom on all fours, he parts her ass cheeks and shoves his hideous cock inside. Mom cries out, lifting her head and staring forlornly at the camera. The usual glazed look is vacant, and it’s the first time I’ve seen Mom lucid in months. It’s clear someone else is in the room, recording the assault. Tears roll down her pale cheeks, and her face contorts in pain as Pablo thrusts and grunts behind her.
Pain eviscerates me, and I wrap my free arm around my middle, struggling to hold back my tears. Mom’s eyes focus on the screen as the animal continues to hurt her. “I love you,” I mouth, hoping it registers.
“Save yourself,” she mouths back. “It’s too late for me.”
I shake my head repeatedly. I know what she’s saying, but she can’t ask that of me.
I hear Cristian calling me from outside my bedroom, and panic seizes me. “I need to go,” I whisper. “Cristian is looking for me.”
Pablo’s lust-drenched face fills the screen as he continues thrusting. “Three weeks, Sloane,” he pants. “You have three weeks to deliver, or it’s lights out for Mommy Dearest.” The last image I have is his hand circling Mom’s neck from behind before the screen dies.
“Sloane? Are you awake?” Cristian asks, and I don’t even have time to compose myself.
I walk on autopilot toward the bedroom door and unlock it.
“Shit, sorry.” He averts his eyes, but not before snatching a quick look at my flimsy tank top and sleep shorts. “I wanted to let you know I made an appointment for you this morning. John Angelo will drive you.”
“An appointment?” I ask in a flat tone.
“Yeah.” His eyes scrutinize my face. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lie. “Just another bad night’s sleep.”
“The melatonin isn’t helping?”
“A little,” I lie again.
He doesn’t look convinced, but I’m wrung dry. I don’t have any more juice to fake it. Inside, I’m a mess, and it’s a miracle I’m standing.
He clears his throat. “I booked some treatments at a spa for you, but I can cancel if you’re not feeling up to it.”
“What?”
“I thought you might like a little pampering before the wedding tomorrow. Gia and Elisa will be joining you there.”
“What about Elio?”
“My mother is watching him until you’re finished. I’m driving him over to my parents’ place before work.” His brow furrows. “Are you sure there’s nothing troubling you?”
“I’m sure.” I force a half smile. “A spa outing sounds perfect. Thanks, Cristian.” Though curling up in a ball, screaming and crying, is what I feel like doing, I’m better off trying to distract myself because I’m very close to losing my shit and blowing my cover.
He examines my face again. “You’re welcome.” He walks off but stops and spins around halfway down the hall. I haven’t budged. “If you need me for anything today, call my cell. No time is a bad time, okay?”
He is such a good guy, and I wish I could tell him, but I just can’t risk it. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I manage to hold them at bay. I nod, swallowing the messy ball of emotion clogging my throat. I slouch against the doorway long after he’s gone, despondent and in so much pain it feels like I’m suffocating.
* * *
“We have champagne!” Elisa says when I arrive at the luxury hotel spa to discover her and her best friend waiting in the reception area for me. She gets up from the plush velvet couch and thrusts a flute at me. “Who cares what time it is, right? It’s never too early or too late for champagne.” She waggles her brows as she sits back down, and I take the empty tub chair across from her. Elisa’s infectious, bubbly personality is the first thing to lift my dejected mood today, and I’m grateful for it.
“That’s a mantra I can get behind,” I say, tipping half the glass into my mouth.
Gia laughs. “I knew we were going to be the best of friends.” She looks around the swanky salon. “This is super sweet of Cristian, isn’t it?”
I quirk a brow. “It wasn’t your idea?” On the way here, I assumed the girls must have organized it and asked Cristian if I could come.
