Giulia's expression shifts, becomes more serious. "That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" I set the mug down harder than I intend, and tea sloshes over the rim. "He made a decision about my life without consulting me. He decided I needed to be sent away, and he just—did it. He didn't ask what I wanted. He didn't consider that maybe I'd rather face the danger with him than be locked away like some princess in a tower."
"He's trying to protect you?—"
“I feel trapped! Again!” I run my hand through my hair, feeling like I’m going a little mad. “I should have told him no. You’re the one who told me to set boundaries.”
“In this case, you did the right thing by listening.” Giulia sits down, looking tired. “Our family has these houses because we know there might be times when we have to use them. I wouldn’t like being tucked away like this any more than you do, but if my father or Romeo told me to go, I would. Sometimes it’s better to let them handle it. Especially since all of this is… it’s new to you.” She looks at me sympathetically. “I was raised around this. You weren’t. I understand it’s an adjustment.”
That feels like an understatement. “I just want things to go back to normal.”
“They will. There will be a new normal, eventually.” Giulia gives me that sympathetic smile again. “If you want to be with him, Savannah, just be patient. He’ll handle this, and then the two of you can move forward together.”
“He’s doing terrible things.”
“He was raised to.” Giulia reaches out and takes my hand. "I'm not saying it's right. I'm not saying it’s easy to accept, either. I'm saying—he's trying. In his broken, fucked-up way, he's trying to be better than what he was raised to be."
I think about that phone call two nights ago. The way Romeo's voice broke when he admitted he was losing himself. The way he cried—actually cried—and told me I was the only thing that made him human.
"I love him," I whisper. "But I don't know if I can live like this. Always being protected, always being managed, always being thething that needs to be kept safe rather than the person who gets to make choices."
“You’ll have more choices when this is done. Just talk to him. Be there for him. Lean on each other, and you’ll get through this. But you can't just ignore his calls and expect him to figure it out on his own."
She's right. I know she's right. But I'm still so angry.
I spend the afternoon trying to work on my paper, but I can't focus. It’s hard to think about ancient civilizations when my own life feels like it's crumbling.
My phone buzzes with a text, and I grab it automatically, expecting Romeo.
It's not Romeo.
The number is blocked, but I know who it is before I even open the message.
Unknown:You chose wrong.
My blood runs cold. Another text comes through immediately—a photo this time. It takes a moment for my brain to process what I'm seeing.
It’s Romeo, in what looks like a warehouse. Standing over a man on his knees. The man's face is bloody, terrified. And Romeo?—
Romeo has a gun pressed to the back of the man's head.
The next photo shows the aftermath. There’s blood everywhere. So much blood. I drop the phone like it burned me, but the photos are real. Romeo did that. Romeo killed that man.
I knew what he was. I knew what his family does. I knew he was dangerous. But knowing it abstractly and seeing it—seeing the way he stands over that man like it's nothing, like taking a life is just another task to complete?—
I run to the bathroom and throw up.
—
Giulia findsme twenty minutes later, sitting on the bathroom floor with my phone clutched in my hand.
"Savannah? What's wrong? Are you—" She sees my face and immediately kneels beside me. "What happened?"
I can't speak. I just hand her the phone and watch her face as she scrolls through the messages, through the photos. I see her expression shift from concern to fury.
"That fucking—" She stops herself, takes a breath. "This is Thad. This is him trying to manipulate you."
"I know." My voice sounds distant. "But the photos are real, aren't they?"
