Page 11
Story: Merciless Oath
My uncle and father speak at the same time, and I shrink back against the counter, cursing myself for not lying.
But Uncle Luigi would have looked into it and figured it out anyway. Then I’d be caught in a lie, and it’d be even worse.
“Enzo Cavalli is the head of the Romano family,” I clarify, but judging by the horrified look on Luigi’s face, they definitely understood.
The silence stretches, slowly replacing the air in the room. By the time my father finally speaks, I feel like I’m suffocating.
“Valentina, I want you and Matilda to get on the first flight back to California,” he commands, his voice low and laced with anger. “Your work there is done. Luigi and the rest of the crew can finish up.”
“But—”
The call cuts off, signaling my father’s unvocalized goodbye. I grab the stupid phone and hurl it against the wall with all my strength. Uncle Luigi sighs and leaves the room, giving me time to calm down.
Matilda spots me at the window from outside and grins, waving both mittened hands at me. I smile as Alfonso scoops her up and sends her flying into the air.
My fingers pick nervously at the dish towel, unraveling the loose threads while my foot taps against the marble floors of its own accord.
I ignore my body as it screams and begs to move, to stretch my muscles, to lose myself in music. My father’s words echo in my mind.
Ballet isn’t a priority anymore. Quit dreaming about a future that’ll never happen.
I sink into a chair at the kitchen table with my coffee, my mind a jumble of confusion and regrets. The anger builds as I think about the horrific existence my family has trapped me in.
I can’t build the future I want for myself because I need to lead the family. But I can’t throw myself into leading the family because no one trusts me to make decisions.
And then, there’s Enzo. I drift back to that sweltering day in August, after my final recital. We made love on the ballet studio floor for the last time, not knowing it would be the last.
He disappeared after that. For years, I beat myself up thinking it was my fault—I wasn’t pretty enough, fun enough, or good enough for him.
Then I found the check receipt in my father’s books.
When I took over the family, I went through all our accounts to find where we could tighten things up. Stuffed haphazardly into the back of an account book was a receipt for three million dollars made out to Enzo Cavalli, dated the day after my recital.
He traded our love for money.
I sure hope that three million dollars keeps his cold heart warm at night.
CHAPTER FOUR
Enzo
It might beconvenient to believe the Rossis are behind the warehouse attack, but it doesn’t make sense. The shocked look on Valentina’s face when I walked in there today was enough for me to realize she had no idea.
That, and the simple fact that the Rossis wouldn’t attack the Romanos unprovoked.
That leads me back to The8. Of course, it’s possible it’s another family or even some bored teenagers, but The8 is really getting on my nerves.
I finish up my last lap and pull myself out of the pool, shivering at the frosty air. Although the rooftop pool is heated, it’s not enclosed, meaning I have to freeze my nips off getting in and out every morning.
I cocoon myself in a giant velvet robe and slide my feet into a pair of slippers. My brain is moving a mile a minute, trying to sort out all the new information.
As the elevator takes me back down to my penthouse, I check my messages. A few updates from Jack, telling me they’ve reached the warehouse upstate. A video message from Lux and her adorable daughter, Rosie, playing in the snow.
I freeze as the elevator pings open.
A new message from The8.
I click it open with excitement, hoping for something that might reveal their identity. My excitement deflates when I see it’s a series of numbers that don’t make any sense.
But Uncle Luigi would have looked into it and figured it out anyway. Then I’d be caught in a lie, and it’d be even worse.
“Enzo Cavalli is the head of the Romano family,” I clarify, but judging by the horrified look on Luigi’s face, they definitely understood.
The silence stretches, slowly replacing the air in the room. By the time my father finally speaks, I feel like I’m suffocating.
“Valentina, I want you and Matilda to get on the first flight back to California,” he commands, his voice low and laced with anger. “Your work there is done. Luigi and the rest of the crew can finish up.”
“But—”
The call cuts off, signaling my father’s unvocalized goodbye. I grab the stupid phone and hurl it against the wall with all my strength. Uncle Luigi sighs and leaves the room, giving me time to calm down.
Matilda spots me at the window from outside and grins, waving both mittened hands at me. I smile as Alfonso scoops her up and sends her flying into the air.
My fingers pick nervously at the dish towel, unraveling the loose threads while my foot taps against the marble floors of its own accord.
I ignore my body as it screams and begs to move, to stretch my muscles, to lose myself in music. My father’s words echo in my mind.
Ballet isn’t a priority anymore. Quit dreaming about a future that’ll never happen.
I sink into a chair at the kitchen table with my coffee, my mind a jumble of confusion and regrets. The anger builds as I think about the horrific existence my family has trapped me in.
I can’t build the future I want for myself because I need to lead the family. But I can’t throw myself into leading the family because no one trusts me to make decisions.
And then, there’s Enzo. I drift back to that sweltering day in August, after my final recital. We made love on the ballet studio floor for the last time, not knowing it would be the last.
He disappeared after that. For years, I beat myself up thinking it was my fault—I wasn’t pretty enough, fun enough, or good enough for him.
Then I found the check receipt in my father’s books.
When I took over the family, I went through all our accounts to find where we could tighten things up. Stuffed haphazardly into the back of an account book was a receipt for three million dollars made out to Enzo Cavalli, dated the day after my recital.
He traded our love for money.
I sure hope that three million dollars keeps his cold heart warm at night.
CHAPTER FOUR
Enzo
It might beconvenient to believe the Rossis are behind the warehouse attack, but it doesn’t make sense. The shocked look on Valentina’s face when I walked in there today was enough for me to realize she had no idea.
That, and the simple fact that the Rossis wouldn’t attack the Romanos unprovoked.
That leads me back to The8. Of course, it’s possible it’s another family or even some bored teenagers, but The8 is really getting on my nerves.
I finish up my last lap and pull myself out of the pool, shivering at the frosty air. Although the rooftop pool is heated, it’s not enclosed, meaning I have to freeze my nips off getting in and out every morning.
I cocoon myself in a giant velvet robe and slide my feet into a pair of slippers. My brain is moving a mile a minute, trying to sort out all the new information.
As the elevator takes me back down to my penthouse, I check my messages. A few updates from Jack, telling me they’ve reached the warehouse upstate. A video message from Lux and her adorable daughter, Rosie, playing in the snow.
I freeze as the elevator pings open.
A new message from The8.
I click it open with excitement, hoping for something that might reveal their identity. My excitement deflates when I see it’s a series of numbers that don’t make any sense.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91