"There's some old scuba gear in the garage," I say. "Best of luck."
He sighs dramatically, but I know he won't leave a single stone unturned to find the ring. Once Enzo sets his mind to something, he doesn't rest until the job is done.
I place my phone back in my pocket and stare at my unwilling bride.
I know I should feel bad for losing control, but she’s awakened a beast inside me.
I’ve had a taste of her.
And this hunger won’t be satisfied until I devour her whole.
15
GRACE
Idon’t know what’s come over me.
I barely recognize myself when he’s around me. He has a way of clouding my judgment and morphing all the thoughts in my head.
We look at each other for a moment.
The attraction between us is a living, breathing thing, but I can’t keep getting carried away by it.
“You said that you would take me to see Sarah,” I say, lifting my chin.
“The villa isn’t far from here,” he says. “Let’s go.”
He walks out of the restaurant, expecting me to follow him.
My cheeks burn with rage and mortification when I see the restaurant staff huddled outside.
Dante and I don’t exchange another word as I sit behind him on his red Vespa. He drives through narrow streets lined with pastel houses and bursts of bougainvillea. But the sweetness from earlier this morning has been washed away, leaving behind notes of bitterness. It feels like there's a cloud hanging above me, blocking out all the sunshine.
I thought this man could be a friend, but he's just another person who sees me as a pawn.
And even though we’re still very much strangers, it feels like a betrayal.
A few minutes later, we pass through the gates of an opulent seaside mansion.
Men in black uniforms surround the whole property. Even the air itself is different, like it still holds the echoes of the violence that once took place here. The walls are a pristine white, but I have a feeling that if I were to peel back the layers, I would find stains of red.
I know houses like these.
I grew up in one.
I descend from the Vespa, but I can’t bring myself to move.
My feet are frozen to the ground. I can't even form a single thought as my heart starts to race.
"What's wrong?" Dante asks, instantly noticing the shift in my energy. He comes to stand before me, blocking my view of the house.
I focus on him.
It doesn't help. Looking at him only reminds me of everything that's to come—a marriage I don't have a choice in, a life I don't want, a future written by someone else.
The air in my lungs remains suspended.
"Talk to me, Grace," he says.
