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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Valentina

Watching Enzo lead Matilda out of this dark, depressing sideshow lifts my spirits. I don’t know how this will pan out, but I know Enzo will do everything in his power to make this right.

I breathe a sigh of relief, and Alexandra eyes me suspiciously.

It’s just the three of us in the room now, but Alessia has been sitting in dead silence the entire time, not taking her eyes off the tablecloth in front of her.

The poor baby. I wonder what she’s had to endure with Alexandra as her mother.

“So, were you always insane, or did you just forget to take your meds recently?” I ask, not even realizing I’m speaking. Her gaze drifts from the doorway back to my face, and I stare back, prepared to do everything in my power to keep her from running out there and checking on Enzo’s “progress.”

“Actually, I’ve been watching you for years, Valentina,” she spits, slumping onto the table and resting her chin in her hand. “You’re the one that’s delusional… running around the country, thinking you’re such a big, tough mafia boss. Look at you now, huh?”

“Right,” I agree. “Look at me now. You finally got what you wanted. Was it worth it?”

“Worth it?” she hollers. “It’s not just worth it. It’s what’s right. Everything is in balance again.”

“You really think you deserve Enzo?” I ask, genuinely interested. My fingers cramp up from picking at the bindings around my wrists, but I stretch them and keep going. “What makes you think so?”

“Because it’s meant to be.” She shrugs. “The witch told me.”

“The witch?” I pause. That’s unexpected. I need to know more.

“Yeah, yeah, when I was a little girl.” She stops, eyeing me, wondering how much to share. “Ugh, no matter. You’ll be dead soon, might as well tell you. My mother took me to the village witch, you know, a fortune teller, you might say.”

“Uh-huh,” I encourage her to keep talking. My gaze slips to the door, but all seems calm and quiet up there.

“She told me that when I'd move to America, I’d meet a man who’d change my entire life,” she recalls, smiling dreamily to herself. “He’d chase me first, sending flowers and writing love notes and poetry. And that man is the one I’ll marry.”

“And you think Enzo’s the one?” I snort, thinking about how Enzo never understood poetry.

“He is,” she says definitively. “He did all that when we first started dating. He just used a fake signature to throw me off, to make it more fun.”

“What?”

“He would sign the love letters as Ivan , of all names.” She laughs, her wild eyes twinkling with insanity. “Isn’t that funny? But I knew it was him. He just likes to have fun with these things.”

Ivan. Ivan Ratchekovsky. The guy from the freezer.

“Why would you assume they were from Enzo?”

“Because,” she says, stretching out the word, “we were together at the time. Who else would it be? He would see the flowers or notes displayed in my room and comment on them like it wasn’t him, but I knew it was him. He’s so sweet and playful.”

“Alexandra,” I breathe, putting the puzzle pieces together. “That wasn’t Enzo.”

“You’re so annoying, Valentina,” she chastises, pulling herself out of the seat. “You’re not going to convince me he didn’t love me. Didn’t you see how he kissed me? Me. Not you.”

She glances at the doorway, making a move toward it. “What’s taking him so long?”

“Alexandra!” I call, desperate to distract her.

Just then, a gunshot rings out, and I jump in my seat. One of the ropes snaps, loosening my bindings just a bit. She spins around, a maniacal smile on her face.

“See? He chose me. He’ll always choose me,” she gloats. Another gunshot stops her in her tracks, and she cocks her head, listening intently.

“You know what he told me?” I yell, trying to get her attention again. “That he’s never loved anyone except me. I’m the love of his life.”

She glances at me, ready to brush me off, but my smile floods her face with rage. Another gunshot rings out, and she rushes at me, slapping me so hard I’m knocked back onto the floor.

“Take it back!” she screeches. I flail wildly with my arms and hands crushed underneath me.

Somehow, I manage to roll over onto my side, still attached to the chair. Alexandra dives at me, slapping and kicking as I try to shield myself.

“Take it back! Take it back!” she screams, wrapping her fingers around my neck.

I summon what little strength I have and pull my wrists apart, begging for the ties to come undone. They loosen just enough for me to slip one hand out, but Alexandra’s fingers tighten around my throat.

I gasp for breath, scratching wildly at her skin. My nails dig into her face, leaving angry red crescent marks, but she doesn’t pull back.

She’s snarling at me like a rabid dog. Her eyes are wild and black—all pupil. She’s so out of it. Oh my god, I’m going to die.

With my last wheeze of breath, I manage to kick her off me.

“Stop,” I gasp, trying to get a full breath. “Stop.”

She launches at me again, but I block her, sending her flying across the room. She slams into the wall but jumps back up, running at me.

Glass shards from the broken bottle embed into her legs and feet, but it doesn’t stop her. She’s possessed by some psychotic spirit now, and nothing will slow her down.

I fight her off as best as I can, using the fact that I’m sober and quicker than her to my advantage. I duck under the table, popping up near Alessia’s chair.

“Go,” I whisper, nodding to the door. “Get outside. Go hide!”

She’s frozen in place, staring at the tablecloth still. I don’t want her to see this, but I can’t get her to move. Alexandra grabs for my ankle under the table, dragging me back under. We roll around under the table, fighting for dominance. The tablecloth gets ripped down at one point, sending dishes and plates of food onto the ground.

Glass shatters all around, water and wine dripping down the table onto the floor, but I finally manage to pin Alexandra down. I glance at Alessia’s little feet dangling from the chair, frozen in place.

Oh god, I can’t do it. I can’t kill her mother in front of her.

“Alexandra,” I growl into her ear as she fights me. “Calm down, and I won’t kill you.”

“Why?” She spits at me—actually spits. A disgusting wad of saliva drips down my cheek, and I shudder with revulsion. “I’d kill you. I’d kill you in front of the world. I don’t care who sees.”

“That’s the difference between you and me… I don’t wish you any harm,” I plead. “Let me properly restrain you so we can get you some help.”

I know my begging and pleading is accomplishing nothing when she starts laughing. That laugh—so depraved and dark—sears into my chest, sending shivers of fear through my veins. It’s a laugh I’ll remember as long as I live.

“You think I need help?” she growls, bucking me off. “I need you dead, that’s what I need.”

I see her thought pattern and act before she does, rolling off her and slipping out from under the table. She lunges after me, uncoordinated and clunky. I almost reach the first step when she tackles me back to the ground.

I ignore the sickening thud of my head slamming against the metal step and try my best to keep her hands away from my neck.

“Die!” she screams, trying to suffocate me.

“For fuck’s sake!” Enzo yells as the door flies open. I glance up at him, covered in blood, gun still in his hand.

“Help,” I breathe as her fingers wrap tightly around my throat again. The world starts to go dark, and I settle into the cozy blankness of nothing.

“Oh no you don’t,” a warm voice calls from somewhere in the distance.

Suddenly, Alexandra’s body is lifted off me and I suck in a deep breath, bringing me back. The room spins and I’m dizzy, but I force myself to power through it.

I see Enzo pinning her to the ground, shouting at me. His voice sounds like it’s moving through water, and I shake my head to clear it.

“Take the girl!” he’s yelling madly at me. “Take her and go up to the helm!”

I force myself up off the stairs, trying my best to avoid glass, and stumble over to Alessia. Her body is stiff, frozen in place, and I pry her out of her chair.

Sounds of struggle come from the other side of the room, and I desperately want to help Enzo, but I’m also pretty sure I’m concussed.

“Alessia,” I whisper urgently. “We need to go. Please?”

She finally relaxes the tiniest amount, but it’s enough for me to lift her up in my arms and run to safety. She never looks back at her mother, but I do.

I see Enzo speaking calmly, trying to pacify Alexandra while she’s screaming and spitting.

A length of rope is looped around his arm, ready to be used as a restraint. The gun is tucked into the back of his briefs, and I thank my lucky stars he was able to get it away from her.

We slip out into the chilly early morning air, and I close the door behind us. No need for Alessia to hear what’s about to happen down there.

We run to the helm as I half-pull, half-drag her with me. Once we climb inside, I shut the door and take the first deep, hopeful breath I have all night.

Adrenaline rolls off my body like steam, and my heart thuds so loudly in my chest that I’m sure they can hear it downstairs.

“Alessia, stay here,” I whisper once I’m able to speak. “I need to go find Matilda.”

Alessia doesn’t answer, but she nods gently. Heartbreak washes over me when I see her curled up on the floor like a tiny kitten.

I’m just about to pull myself off the floor and go search for Matilda when a pair of bright green eyes peer out from behind the captain’s chair.

“Mama?” she whispers, disbelief clouding her face. I realize how terrifying I must look right now, with cuts and bruises all over me, but I smile anyway.

“Come here, honeybee,” I whisper back, opening my arms. She glances around and carefully picks her way over to me, falling into my embrace.

“Mama,” she whispers again and breaks into tears. My strong girl. She held it in for so long.

I stroke her hair gently as she cries into my chest, clinging onto me for dear life. My eyes meet Alessia’s as she watches us intently.

I beckon for her to join the hug, but she glances back at the floor quickly, refusing to move.

“It’ll take time,” I say to myself, kissing Matilda’s head firmly.

“What will?” she whispers, confused.

“Everything.”

She studies me with her tear-streaked face, as if searching for the hidden deeper meaning of this revelation. Finally, she nods and buries her head in my chest, safe again.