I retreat to my room and try to focus on homework. My business management textbook sits open on my desk, something about supply chain optimization, but the words blur together. I force myself to read a full page before looking at my phone again.
Five minutes later, I check again.
An hour passes. Then two. I’ve read the same paragraph seven times and can’t remember what it says. My phone sits on the desk beside my textbook, silent and accusing. I pick it up and refresh the messages. Maybe there’s a glitch. Maybe Vincenzo replied but it’s not getting through.
I’m fooling myself. I set it down and force my eyes back to the textbook.Efficient supply chain management requires careful attention to inventory levels and—
I check my phone again.
Nothing.
The afternoon light shifts across my desk. I haven’t moved, and I haven’t eaten all day. My stomach is churning, and I have no appetite for even coffee. Maybe he’ll never call back. Maybe this is it, and he’s decided I’m not worth the trouble after all.
Maybe deep down he never actually forgave me for the part I played in his family’s massacre, and me throwing his sweet confession in his face has made that crystal clear to him. Maybe he’s decided he can’t love someone like me after all.
The devastating thought makes my throat tight.
I’m in the bathroom splashing cold water on my face when my phone rings.
I run back to my desk and lunge for it so fast I knock my textbook onto the floor. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it thumping against my chest, and I answer the call without even looking at the screen.
“Vincenzo?”
“Adora?” Not Vincenzo’s voice. Matteo’s. “Have you seen Vincenzo?”
My stomach drops. “What? No, not since last night. Why?”
“He’s not answering his phone. He didn’t come home last night. I thought maybe…” Matteo pauses, and I can hear the worry in his voice. “When did you last see him?”
“He dropped me off around ten.” My mouth is dry. “What do you mean he didn’t come home?”
“I mean he’s gone. We found his car at a bar three blocks from the house, but he’s not there. He’s not answering calls. Vincenzo doesn’t just disappear, Adora. Not without telling someone.”
The world tilts. He went to a bar after dropping me off. I hurt him when I pulled away, and he needed a drink to deal with it.
And then something happened to him.
“Adora, are you there?”
“I’m coming over,” I say, already pushing my feet into shoes. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Adora—”
“Twenty minutes.”
I hang up and grab my keys, my mind racing. He’s not ignoring me, and I wasted an entire day thinking he was angry when he might be hurt or in danger.
The drive to the Vici house passes in a blur. I barely remember getting in my car, navigating the streets, parkingoutside the iron gates. My hands are shaking as I press the intercom.
“It’s Adora.”
The gates swing open immediately.
Inside, the house feels different than it did yesterday. Sofia and Matteo are in the kitchen, both on their feet when I walk in. Sofia’s face is drawn, her hands twisted together. Matteo looks tired, frustrated, like he’s been pacing for hours.
“Adora.” Sofia crosses to me immediately and takes my hands. “Tell us what happened last night. Please.”
I swallow hard. “We went to the fight. Vincenzo went into the ring and challenged this massive man, and he won, but his raven tattoo was exposed. We made up a story about him being a Vici defector, and we were invited into the VIP section with Aleksander and Dashamir. We stole phones from the Dervishi underbosses and…” I stumble over the next part. “And then he drove me home. He didn’t say where he was going after that.”
