“We went through it,” he continues, turning the device over in his large hands. “Looking for any reason why he would show up at the island. During our honeymoon.” His jaw tightens, a muscle flexing beneath the stubble. “And we found something.”
I wait, fear building in my chest like pressure behind a dam. Whatever this is, Raffaele’s reaction tells me it’s devastating.
“Your sister,” he says finally, the words falling between us like stones. “Sabrina was in contact with my dad.”
The words don’t make sense at first. They float in the air between us, disconnected and impossible. Sabrina and Andrea? How would they even know each other?
“That’s… that can’t be right,” I stammer, pulling my hand from his to rub at my temple where a dull ache is beginning to form. “Sabrina doesn’t know any of your family. She’s never met—”
“She met him online,” Raffaele interrupts, his voice gentle but unyielding. “Through social media.”
My breathing speeds up as I try to process this. “But why? Why would they even talk to each other?”
Raffaele’s eyes never leave mine, watching each flicker of emotion that must be racing across my face. “He reached out to her and introduced himself when he commented on one of her posts.”
“W-what?” I ask, still confused.
He informs me he received a box of cigars as a wedding present from his dad the night before our wedding. But that Andrea shouldn’t have known the date. I feel like I know what he’s trying to tell me, yet I’m still as confused as when he started.
“Raffaele,” I snip. “Just give it to me straight.” I don’t mean to snap at him, truly, I don’t. But my head is throbbing, and I’m starting to feel stupid for clearly not understanding where the breadcrumbs he’s putting down are leading.
“They began messaging and talking. A lot. Mostly about you,” Raffaele growls.
The implications start to crystallize, sharp and cutting. “And Sabrina just… talked to him? Just like that?”
“More than talked.” Raffaele’s voice drops lower, dangerous. “They met. Several times. According to his messages, she told him everything he wanted to know about you. About us. About the wedding date.”
The betrayal cuts so deep I can barely breathe. My own sister. The only family I had left. The only person who shared memories of Mom with me.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Why would she do that?”
Instead of answering, Raffaele unlocks the phone and scrolls through it for a moment before holding it out to me. “See for yourself.”
My hand trembles as I take it from him. The screen shows a text conversation between Andrea and Sabrina. I force myself to focus on the words.
Andrea: As discussed, I’ll take care of your problem permanently. My son’s infatuation with your sister has gone far enough.
Sabrina: Just make sure she doesn’t come back. She’s the reason my dad’s dead. I want fucking revenge!!
Andrea: You’re certain you want this? Once it’s done, there’s no going back.
Sabrina: I told you what I want. I want Alina gone. Dead. I don’t care how you do it.
The phone slips from my fingers, landing on the bed between us. My entire body goes cold, then hot, then numb as the words burn into my brain. Dead. My sister wanted me dead.
“No,” I say, the word slipping out unbidden. “No, that can’t be right. She wouldn’t… Sabrina wouldn’t…”
But the evidence is right there in black and white. My sister conspired with Andrea Russo to kill me. My only living blood relative signed my death warrant.
A sob tears from my throat, raw and painful. “But why? What did I ever do to make her hate me this much?”
The tears come then, hot and unstoppable. They pour down my face as my body shakes with the force of my grief. This betrayal cuts deeper than any knife, burns hotter than any wound. My sister wants me erased from existence.
Raffaele moves closer, his arms encircling me with exquisite care, mindful of my injuries. He pulls me against his chest, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other strokes down my spine.
I cry against him, my tears soaking into his shirt while he murmurs soft Italian phrases against my hair.
“I don’t understand,” I repeat between sobs, my words muffled against him. “I don’t understand why she hates me so much.”
