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Chapter

Forty-One

Allegra

Igaze out at the open sea, resting my hands on the metal rail of the ship. It’s blue all around me. Not even a trace of land. It’s the first time I’ve ever been out so far at sea. As the salty air fills my lungs, I think of everything I left behind.

No. Not everything. One thing. The man. The man I never thought I would miss.

How cruel fate is that the moment I get the wish I’ve longed for all these years, things don’t feel right. This doesn’t feel like freedom.

It feels like something else. Something wrong.

Mama and I have been gone for two days. Two whole days. By nightfall, we’ll be on the start of day three.

We’ve been on a small cargo vessel. The people here have been good to us. Uncle Maurice did everything to ensure our safety.

The crew are mostly Italian, and they’re the kind of people who can move in and out of anywhere without really being noticed.

That’s how we escaped. No one stopped us as we got onboard the vessel. No one stopped us as we sailed away. And no one has come for us since.

Now we’re out here, miles and miles away from anyone.

But I keep thinking about the husband I left behind.

How did he react when he realized I was gone? I know he’d be mad as hell.

He probably thought my father took me, but then he would have realized quickly that I actually escaped.

Anyone with common sense would’ve known why I left, but there was more to Lev and me than just a contract.

He’ll also know by now that Mama’s with me, so the contract isn’t really an issue anymore.

What I care about is the relationship I developed with him.

That’s what I miss.

I miss him.

That’s why this doesn’t feel right.

I miss the feel of my husband’s arms around me and the scent of his protection. I miss that feeling of safety that came with just knowing he was near.

All those things are hard to forget, and that’s what I’m supposed to do now.

Forget.

Mama said to put it behind me, and move forward.

How am I supposed to do that when I think—or rather I know—that Lev became the man of my dreams?

But really, it wasn’t all good, was it?

There were bad parts, too, and I’d be a fool to think Mama was entirely wrong.

What I left behind is a mafia world of money and power. And Lev Karsavin is a Bratva Pakhan. My relationship with him was an element that snuck its way in and could’ve easily been snuffed away.

The door opens behind me. Roberta, the chef, comes out with a big smile on her face. She has kind brown eyes and warm olive skin. She’s in her late sixties and loves sailing the world with the crew. Her husband is the captain.