Page 14

14

ADELINA

Y esterday wasn’t real.

It can’t have been real.

It had to be some kind of nightmare that I got stuck in, because if it was real, then it means I was really kidnapped. I was really assaulted.

I don’t want that to be true.

When I close my eyes, my eyelids burn, but I have no more tears left to shed. I cried them all out in Raffaele’s arms yesterday morning when he held me in bed and rocked me to sleep. I cried them all out when I woke up a couple of hours later to throw up and drag myself back into the shower to wash off the phantom sensations clinging to my skin.

I still feel him.

Geoff.

His hands on my body. His weight on my hips. His warm blood on my skin.

I still feel him, and the only thing that got rid of that sensation was Raffaele’s arms around me.

But he can’t hold me all the time.

A plate clinks before me, and I slowly open my eyes to find Raffaele standing over me with a glass of orange juice in one hand. His homemade omelet sits on the plate in front of me, complete with a couple of cherry tomatoes and some chicken.

“Adelina,” he says softly. “You need to eat something. Please.”

My stomach tightens at the thought. I can taste acid on the back of my tongue and the urge to vomit rises once more. It must have been clear on my face because Raffaele sits down next to me.

“You’ll feel sicker if you don’t eat something. Doesn’t need to be all of it. Just something. Please?”

Never in my life did I think I would hear Raffaele Varricchio say the word please.

“Will you stay with me?” I ask, wincing as my throat pulls tight at the words. I’ve cried so much that everything inside me feels raw.

“Yes,” Raffaele replies, setting the orange juice down in front of me. “As long as you will eat.”

That sounds like a fair trade. Despite my lack of appetite, his presence is calming, and I ache for that more than I desire not to eat. So he wins.

Picking up my fork, I stab one of the little tomatoes and pop it into my mouth. The instant the sweetness bursts over my tongue, I gag, but I manage to swallow quickly. Raffaele watches me closely, but he doesn’t say anything.

He hasn’t left my side since he rescued me, and I’m not sure why. Is it responsibility he feels? Pity? Obligation?

In a strange turn of events, his kindness upon my rescue is the most kindness I’ve ever received from someone. He was patient and sweet with me, moved at my pace, and hasn’t questioned my need to shower every few hours. He’s just here, patient and quiet.

“I’m sorry,” I say eventually, picking at the eggs with my fork.

Raffaele frowns, his coffee cup halfway toward his mouth. “What on earth are you apologizing for?”

His confusion appears genuine, which makes what I need to say even harder. Warmth stings behind my eyes and I keep my gaze down on my plate. “I’m sorry for running away. I know you must be furious with me.”

Raffaele remains silent, which gives me an unfortunate window to just keep talking.

“I just don’t understand why you aren’t angry or yelling at me and giving me trouble. I broke your trust. I basically said fuck you and stormed out of here.”

Raffaele gives an unexpected soft snort. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you properly swear.”

I lift my gaze. “You know what I mean, though.”

“Is that what you want?” He sips his coffee. “Do you want me to do that?”

I shrug. “I don’t understand why you’re not.”

“Adelina.” He sets his cup down and leans forward, his eyes softer than I have ever seen them. “You’re hurt. Traumatized. The terror of what happened to you is surely punishment enough for running away. And everything after that?” His eyes briefly dart down to the red bruises ringing my wrists. “You think I’m a monster, but sweetheart, I’m not nearly as bad as you think I am.”

The instinct rises to tell him I’m fine.

I tried that earlier this morning when the doctor came to see me. Neither of them believed me. She checked me over pretty thoroughly with Raffaele watching like a hawk. He seemed poised to leap in and protect me the moment the doctor did something I didn’t like, but the exam went smoothly and she gave me a physical all-clear with some painkillers.

He’s being so gentle, and the way he calls me sweetheart sends all sorts of complicated emotions through my tight chest. Emotions I don’t have the capacity to unpack right now, but it’s difficult to imagine that the man making me lunch and helping me bathe is the same man who barked at me that I was never doing anything without his permission.

“You’re my wife. I am your husband,” Raffaele says as my silence drags on a little. “Regardless of how you feel about me, I will do everything and anything to care for you. I will protect you in every way I know how. I failed in that department, for which I am deeply sorry. But I promise you that it will never happen again. And no matter what you need to feel better, I’ll make sure you get it.”

His words bring tears to my eyes. They’re unexpected and from his tone, he clearly means every word. It’s just… surprising. Like some kind of switch has flipped and I get to see this side of him. Or this side has already existed and I simply never noticed.

“Thank you,” I say quietly. “For coming to get me.”

“Always,” Raffaele replies immediately. “Now eat. Please.”

I manage a few mouthfuls, focusing on the cheesiness of the omelet to try and stop my thoughts from wandering, but eventually, it all circles back to that night, and a chill steals across my shoulders. Swallowing hard, I chase my food with a gulp of orange juice and look at Raffaele.

“Did you find Marie?”

He pauses in taking a drink, his face expressionless. “Adelina.”

A giant pit immediately opens up in my gut. “Where is she?”

“I don’t think?—”

“Raffaele, where is she? Is she at the hospital? Can I go and see her? You managed to save her too, right?” The questions pour out of me, and I’m unable to stop myself as Raffaele’s face tells me everything I need to know. He looks pained.

There’s only one reason he would look that way.

The world around me blurs, and Raffaele’s eyes remain two sparkling anchor points. “Tell me she’s okay,” I whisper.

“I didn’t want to tell you right now,” Raffaele replies, his voice strained. “But… Vito found her not long after I found you. I’m sorry, Adelina. It looks like they drugged her to keep her quiet and the amount they gave her… it was too much.”

“No…”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. She didn’t make it.”

“No, no, no! Oh, no… no!” My heart shatters into a thousand pieces and each shard creates its own stabbing sensation through my chest. I gasp for air, and the tears pour while my head spins. Raffaele reaches for me, and his hand warms the top of my forearm. “She’s gone?”

“I’m sorry, Adelina.”

A terrible wail escapes my throat. I try to muffle it with my hand, but the grief escapes through the gaps in my fingers and I fall forward, right into Raffael’s arms. He holds me tightly as I sob my heart out, trying to understand how this could even be real.

She’s dead.

Marie is dead.

My best friend.

They killed her.

… I killed her.

“This,” I gasp, choking on my sobs. “This is my fault. I killed her.”

“No,” Raffaele snaps slightly.

“I invited her out. I did this. Everything that happened was because of me. She’s dead because of me!”

“Adelina, look at me.” He cups my face with his warm hand and forces me to look up at him.

I struggle to make out the details of his face as tears pour down my cheeks. It feels like my chest is being pried open from the inside and I can’t breathe.

“You did not do this,” Raffaele states firmly. “What happened to you and what happened to her is not your fault. Are you listening? It’s not your fault, sweetheart. It’s not. I will get to the bottom of what happened, I swear it. But it’s not your fault. You were both just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“But we were there because of me,” I wail, hiccupping violently as my body fights past the grief to get air into my lungs. “She’s dead because of me!”

“No, Adelina. No, she’s not.” He pulls me tight against his chest and hugs me as I cry, but his words bring me little comfort. The pain is worse knowing that she didn’t make it out with me, and she wouldn’t even have been there if not for me.

How the hell is this real?

I lose track of how long I cry in Raffaele’s arms. He holds me through it without a single complaint and only lets me go when I push him away to settle back into my own chair. He hands me a napkin to dry my tears and watches me closely.

“I have something I need to tend to,” he says quietly. “But I won’t be leaving you alone.”

As he speaks, the door to the dining room slides open and a tall woman with spiky blonde hair and square glasses walks in. She flashes me a polite smile and adjusts the belt on her jeans.

“Why?” I whimper. “Can you stay?”

“This is important, but I promise I will be back soon. This is Caterina. She’s your new bodyguard. She’ll be by your side every moment that I cannot, okay?”

Sniffling, I nod slowly. My thoughts are thick and clouded, and the urge to sleep to escape the pain is rising. Raffaele stands and then leans down, pressing an unexpected kiss to the top of my head. That spot of contact tingles even as he steps away.

“Wait.”

He pauses and turns to face me. “Yes?”

“What… What happened to Levi?”

Raffaele’s face hardens like a rock and his jaw tenses, causing the nerve along his cheek to jump. “I killed him.”

“What?”

“You came to harm under his watch,” Raffaele states tightly. “And that is unforgivable.”