Page 32

Penelope

I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the cracked paint on the wall.

My heart aches, a dull, nagging pain that won’t quit.

I miss him. Adriano. His rough hands, his voice, the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing keeping him sane.

We have been apart a few days, him taking care of Henry and Ricci mess and me trying to find some normalcy in my life.

We are together but we agreed to take this slow and see how it goes.

But damn, I’m a wreck without him.

The door creaks open. Gianna steps in, her arms crossed, eyes sharp. She flops onto the chair by my desk, kicking her boots up on the edge. Her bump is now very visible, and she and Gerald are still arguing about baby names but she is very excited.

“You look like shit,” she says, crossing her arms.

“Thanks,” I mutter, slumping back. “You’re a ray of sunshine too.”

Her mouth tugs into something like a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Adriano came by today.”

My heart stumbles, a hard thud against my ribs. I sit up and grab the cushion. “What? When?”

“Yeah a few hours ago while you were helping me with Gerald at the market.” She runs a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends. “Showed up all brooding and pissed off, asking for you. I told him to get lost.”

Anger flares hot in my throat. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because I don’t trust him with you!” She stands, pacing the room, her bare feet slapping the floor.

“I’ve always known something was going on.

Back when you were kids, you’d stare at him like he hung the moon.

Those weird questions about him to Sophia, the way you’d blush when he walked in.

I saw it, Pen. I just hoped you’d grow out of it. ”

I shoot to my feet, fists balled. “You don’t get to decide who I see. He’s not some monster out to ruin me.”

“Isn’t he?” She stops, facing me, eyes blazing. “He’s a killer, Pen. A fucking drug lord. You think I don’t hear the stories? Guys strung up, bleeding out because they crossed him? And you’re over here pining like he’s some prince charming.”

“He’s more than that,” I snap, stepping closer. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“I know enough.” Her voice dips. “I saw what losing Sophia did to him. To you. He’s a wreck, and you’re my sister. My only damn family left. I can’t watch you drown in his mess.”

Sophia’s face flashes in my mind and I swallow hard, shoving it down. “I’m not drowning. I’m choosing him.”

Gianna’s eyes glisten. “Choosing him? After everything? I was there, Pen. That night she died, I held you while you screamed her name. You think I don’t see how you blame yourself? How he does too? You’re both so fucked up over her, and now you’re screwing each other like it’ll fix it.”

“Stop it,” I hiss, my voice trembling. “You don’t get it. He’s the only one who makes it hurt less.”

She steps closer, grabbing my shoulders, fingers digging in. “And what about the history between you guys? Everything that’s happened to us because you both crossed lines you weren’t supposed to? Dad, Mom, Sophia?”

Dad’s screams echo in my skull, the prison bars, blood on concrete, him gone because of my mess with the neighbor’s son.

Mom’s blank stare, lost to dementia, blaming me in silence.

Sophia’s broken body on the road, her eyes empty because I pushed her too far that night. I stagger back, my legs shaky.

“Don’t you dare throw that at me,” I choke out, voice splintering.

“I have to! Shit, Pen. You’re my sister.

I just want you safe. Happy. Not tangled up with some guy who leaves bodies in his wake.

You think Dad would’ve wanted this? Mom’s losing her mind because of the chaos you dragged us into, and Sophia—she died hating you.

You’re both cursed, and I’m scared it’ll take you too. ”

Tears burn my eyes, spilling hot down my cheeks.

“I didn’t mean for any of it. You think I don’t carry that?

Every fucking day, I see her bleeding out, hear her voice calling me a slut.

Dad’s dead because I screwed up, Mom’s gone because I broke her.

But Adriano—he’s the only thing that makes it bearable. ”

Gianna’s face crumples, her hands dropping to her sides. “Fuck, Pen. I know you’re hurting. I feel it too. But he’s not the fix. He’s the fire that keeps burning us down.”

“No,” I say, voice raw, stepping closer. “He’s the only one who gets it. The guilt, the pain and he carries it too. I love him, Gianna. That’s why I’m falling apart. Not because he’s ruining me, but because I need him to breathe.”

She stares at me with wet eyes. “He said he loves you too. Kept talking about how he’d die for you. I didn’t believe him at first, but the way he stood there, like he’d do anything to get to you, it looked real. And it terrified me.”

My breath catches, a sob tearing free. “He said that?”

“He came here begging to see you, and I sent him away because I’m terrified he’ll break you. I’ve always suspected you wanted him. And now look at you. You’re a mess without him, and it kills me.”

Tears sting my eyes, hot and stubborn. I shove her hands off me. “I love him, Gianna. That’s why I’m a mess. Not because he’s breaking me, but because I can’t breathe without him.”

Her face softens, just a little, and she wipes her cheek with a shaky hand. “Fuck, Pen. You’re really in deep, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, sinking back onto the couch, my legs giving out. “I tried to stay away. Didn’t work.”

She sits beside me, close but not touching, staring at the floor. “I don’t trust him, Pen. Never will. But I trust you. If your heart’s telling you to go to him, then go. Just don’t expect me to cheer while you jump into that fire.”

I nod, tears spilling now, and she pulls me into a hug, tight and fierce. Her shirt smells like coffee and her shampoo, grounding me. “You’re an idiot. So is he,” she mutters into my hair.

“I know,” I choke out, clinging to her. “But he’s my idiot.”

She laughs, rough and quiet, and lets me go. “Then get your ass over there. Don’t make me regret this.”

I stand, wiping my face, my heart pounding with something wild and alive. I grab my keys, my jacket, and head for the door, her words echoing in my head. He loves me. He came for me.

I climb into Gianna’s car and drive off. My mind races, Gianna’s fear, Sophia’s ghost, Adriano’s text before the accident. He said I’m his soul, his everything. I feel it too, this pull that’s more than lust, more than guilt. It’s a lifeline we both hang on to.

Years ago, when my crush on Adriano first struck, I never questioned it.

I wallowed in the filthy, forbidden heat of it, knowing full well it was a dead-end ache that would rot inside me.

I could stare at him, trace his every move with my eyes, worship him from the shadows, but crossing that line?

Never. Not with him. When I finally tore myself away and moved, I thought I could bury it, let it fester and die.

Good riddance, I told myself, about damn time.

Then I saw him again, after all those years apart, and the truth hit me like a fist to the gut.

I never got over him. Not for a second. Those feelings had just burrowed deeper, festering in some neglected corner of my soul I’d been too busy to scrub clean.

Time had piled filth between us, but I knew then I’d never shake him.

It was carved into my bones, inevitable, this sick, twisted thread binding us.

Adriano had dragged me through pain, through hurt, through rage so thick it choked me.

His world is a jagged, war-torn hell, dripping with blood and danger, a place he’ll never escape.

But God help me, he’d also shown me love so fierce it burned, pleasure so deep it stained me, the kind that hooks into your marrow and never lets go.

I wanted to claw it out of me, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

Riding the elevator up to his penthouse, my mind swims back to him, thick with the grime of memory.

He probably doesn’t want me here, not after the way we last tore into each other, all spit and venom.

Hell, I don’t even know if that savage pull between us still lingers, but keeping my distance?

It’s not working anymore. He’s in my head every damn day, every night, a relentless itch under my skin.

I see the hard planes of his face, sharp and unyielding, softened only by those eyes that could devour me whole.

I feel his arms, his body, the brutal ease with which he lifts me, fills me, owns me.

Staying away just makes the hunger worse, a gnawing, depraved need I can’t starve out.

I tried giving him space, thinking it might purge him from my blood.

He’s dangerous, always has been, a truth I’ve carried like a bruise.

It’s why I walked away, why I forced the distance.

But lately, I wonder if that was a mistake.

What’s the point of fighting when every thought, every pulse, drags me back to him?

The elevator doors slide open, and I step out, only to freeze.

Two strangers block my path. One’s got a scar snaking up his face, ugly and jagged, his glare dripping with menace.

The other stands by the door, legs spread wide, face blank as stone.

I’ve been tangled up with Adriano long enough to know his men, their faces burned into my memory, but these two?

They’re new. Foreign. It sends a shiver crawling up my spine, a whisper of something sour in the air.

What else has shifted in this filthy kingdom of his?

One steps forward, hand raised.

“Turn around, Rosetti,” Scarface spits, his hand twitching toward his belt. “Boss ain’t seeing nobody. We lost Tommy today.”

“Oh my god. Is Adriano okay? Ralph? Sal?”

“Everyone’s pretty bummed about it but we just had the funeral, so boss is alone and demanded not to see anyone.”