My heart stops.
For a split second, I think it’s Damiano back from wherever he disappeared to this morning. I expect the press of his body on the mattress, the scent of whiskey and cigarettes to coat the air, or the low murmur of his voice apologizing for coming home late.
Nothing.
“Damiano?” I murmur, pushing myself up from the mattress. “Where were you? I waited for hours…”
“It’s Julian.” He says.
His voice is quiet, tinged with urgency. I reach for the lamp, but before I can touch it, Julian’s hand is on mine, preventing it from reaching the switch.
“Don’t,” he whispers. His eyes glint frantically as he moves closer and whispers, “Kat, we have to leave. Right now.”
“Julian, what are you doing? If Damiano catches you in here—”
“Ssshhhh,” he reaches up to hold his thumb over my lips as he cups my face.
“Damianoisthe reason I’m here.” He pulls me up and drags me across the room. He pulls a jacket I recognize as his from the chair and drapes it over my shoulders, his fingers pausing on the collar for a second as if to steady me. “We don’t have much time.”
“Julian, what is going on?!” I get out of his hold in panic as memories of this morning flash in my mind.
“You’re in danger!” Julian’s breathing is shallow as he forces me to sit on the edge of the bed, taking my shaking hands in his. “I overheard him back at the graveyard. He’senraged. He’s talking about harming you. He’s not the man you think he is, Kat.”
I let out a dry, nervous laugh, my fingers clutching the jacket he just put on me, my stomach twisting.
“Stop being dramatic. Damiano gets intense, but he cares about me. He loves me.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
I remember the way Damiano said them to me, straightforward and unguarded, as if loving me was the most natural thing in the world. It felt real. It felt certain.
“He doesn’t love you. Not tonight.” Julian looks at me with such profound pity that hurt more than his words.
Then he takes my phone from the nightstand, opens a message he sent, and holds it up for me to see.
“Here, see for yourself. I didn’t want to show you this, I really didn’t, but I can’t let him hurt you anymore.”
He hits play.
The video is shaky and dark, the lens smeared with rain, everything looking warped. The rain sounds like static on the microphone. A shadow passes, then Damiano appears in the middle of the screen. His lips move, and his voice cuts through the rain,unmistakable.
“I let her into our house, Enzo! I told her I was in love with her!”
I freeze.
“You’re not thinking straight.” Lorenzo appears in front of him, both of them getting soaked by the rain. He tries to subdue Damiano, but the latter is too angry.
“No… I should kill her. The same way they killed Mamma. A bullet to the forehead. It’s only fair. An eye for an eye.”
My heart drops.
Then the video cuts off. I stare at the screen, his words ricochet off my skull.
Kill me? What does he mean?
The silence afterward is smothering, pressing all the air from my lungs. The betrayal feels like a physical slap to the face, leaving my skin numb.
The man who murmured promises into the crook of my neck had just said he wanted to kill me.
“He wants to kill me,” I whisper. The words wrap like chains, squeezing my throat. “Wh-why? Why would he say that, Julian?”
