Chapter Forty-six
Vida
M y phone vibrates against the nightstand, yanking me from restless sleep. The slight sway of the boat on the water has me confused for a moment before my tired brain catches up and reminds me we’re still on the boat and not at home in his bed. I squint at the screen, seeing Mom’s picture with her smile looking back at me. My stomach clenches at the sight. She never calls this early . . . only when something has happened.
“Mom?” I answer, my voice cracking as my jaw aches from last night, bringing fresh, hot images of why my jaw hurts back to the front of my mind.
Pull yourself together, you filthy slut!
“Vida,” her voice trembles, bringing me out of the gutter and making my stomach immediately drop.
“Mom? What happened?” I ask, slowly getting out of the bed and trying not to wake Ciro as he sleeps.
“It’s Lisa, baby,” she says. All my fears come to the surface as I close the door behind me, dreading whatever she’s going to say next. “She’s . . . she’s missing.”
“What?” I exclaim. “What do you mean missing? Missing how?”
“She’s been gone since yesterday, Vida. We didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry, but . . .” she pauses to sniff, crying more as the words come out of her mouth, “but her mother fainted today.”
“What!” I almost yell, my heart sinking. “Why didn’t you call sooner, Mom? Is she okay?”
“She’s better now, baby, but after Adam and this? Oh baby! Your father and Luca are doing all they can, but . . .” she pauses.
“But what, Mom?” I ask, knowing she has more to tell me.
“It’s Donato. He took her,” she whispers, her voice breaking.
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head as panic chokes me from crying. “That’s not possible. Ciro’s been handling it. He’s making sure he doesn’t come near anyone I love.”
It can’t be him! Ciro would have told me if Donato was back.
“Mrs. Brown got a text, Vida. It said Lisa would suffer the same fate as the cop did for all this mess. Who would it be if it wasn’t him?” Mom asks, her questions valid, but it can’t be.
Is he back? Oh God, no!
The phone slips from my fingers as her words sink in. Lisa. Donato. The blood drains from my face, my breathing turning uneven. I don’t know what scares me the most, Lisa being in danger or the fact that my nightmares will return.
“Vida,” Ciro’s deep voice pulls me from my daze. I turn to find him standing by the door. “What’s wrong?”
I look at him, tears welling in my eyes. “Lisa. She’s missing.”
“Who?” he asks, raising a brow as he walks towards me with worry on his face.
“Adam’s sister. Donato has her, Ciro. We have to do something,” I cry, staring into his perfect blue eyes. “He must have covered up his trail so well that we didn’t know he was out of hiding.”
My words are meant to try to make sense of how Ciro didn’t find him, but they make his body go still, and his expression changes from concern to something else. With the silence that follows, I see it; a flicker of guilt.
“You knew,” I whisper, my voice shaking as his jaw tightens.
“Ciro,” I say louder, my tone rising. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew Donato was back, and you didn’t tell me!”
“Baby, I was trying to protect you,” he starts, his voice firm, but calm.
“Protect me?” I move out of his hold, my mind racing. “You lied to me! All you had to do was tell me, and I would’ve told them to be careful. We could’ve done something to protect them, anything!”
“I was going to tell you, I just got . . .” he starts, but my glare stops him.
“Now my sister is missing, Ciro! Donato has her!” I cry, shaking my head.
“After he schemed with Lucia, I thought he . . .”
“He what?” I scoff in disbelief. “You said you had no idea who she was working with!”
Oh, how fucking stupid I’ve been.
“Please, we can talk about this. Please,” he begs as I take step after step away from him. I didn’t think I’d ever see the almighty Ciro Ballera beg like this, but here we are.
“You don’t get to lie to me and call it protection!” I shoot back at him.
His hands clench into fists at his sides, his eyes burning with frustration.
“And I’m apologizing, Vida, I’m sorry!”
“You don’t get to say sorry and expect everything to be okay.” I say, my voice breaking. “You let this happen. You knew Donato was out there, and you said nothing. And now Lisa—” My voice cracks, a sob tearing from my chest.
“Vida,” he calls, reaching for me, his voice softer and more desperate, but I step back again.
“Don’t,” I hiss, wiping at my tears. “Stay away from me, Ciro. I can’t . . . I can’t do this right now.”
I do my best to look away because how can I stare into those eyes and not want to run into his embrace and let him promise it’ll be okay?
He looks at me, unable to figure out what next he needs to do to make this better, while my heart feels like it’s being ripped apart and I just want to leave.
I head back into the room, getting my things, putting my dress back on, and storming toward the door that leads me back up to the deck.
“Where are you going?” Ciro demands, his voice sharp again.
“To my family,” I grit out without looking back. “Where I should’ve been all along.”
And with that, I leave, slamming the door behind me, knowing I’ve struck a nerve . . . one he deserves.
The door slams behind me as I enter the house, my heart pounding in my chest as my vision blurs with the sting of tears begging to be set free.
I need Carmela. She always knows what to say or do, and I have no one else to run to. So, my feet carry me to her room before my mind can catch up, and without hesitation, I shove the door open and freeze.
The sight in front of me knocks the air out of my lungs and my eyes instantly go dry.
Carmela is stretched out across her bed, her robe undone and her naked body on full display. Cito is kneeling above her, his lips devouring hers with an intensity that makes me blush. Franchesco, on the other hand, is shirtless, with his mouth locked around her nipple while his hand works inside her.
God! I don’t mean to stare, but my brain’s short-circuited. My feet won’t move, and for a solid ten seconds, none of us say a damn thing. Carmela and I just stare at each other while Cito’s hands continue to fiddle with Carmela’s nipple, and Franchesco’s fingers keep pumping in and out of her.
Carmela’s red lips turn up in a devilish smile.
“It’s either she’s joining us, or you two need to step out for a moment,” she says, turning to both Cito and Franchesco, who stop and look up at me, finally realizing I’m in the room too.
Heat floods my cheeks, making me turn around.
“No! I’m not . . .” I shake my head.
“Looks like she’s not joining,” Carmela says with a chuckle, her voice dripping with amusement. She shoos the men away, both Cito and Franchesco moving without hesitation. Both men shoot me playful smirks as they grab their shirts and stroll past me.
The door clicks shut, leaving me and Carmela alone. She sighs, stretching like a cat before tying her robe loosely around her waist.
“Now,” she says, her voice calm but commanding, “tell me what’s got you barging in here looking like the world just ended.”
I swallow hard, still trying to unsee what I’d just walked in on. The tears I’d been holding back spill over, and my words escape me in a broken mess. “Lisa. She’s missing. Mom just called. She said Donato took her, and . . .”
Anger bubbles to the surface, and I scoff, wiping away my tears. I’m not going to cry because of that fool. “Ciro knew. He fucking knew Donato was back, and he didn’t tell me.”
Her smile disappears instantly, turning into a look of anger and worry.
“Donato,” she repeats, her tone cold. “He’s back? And Ciro knew?!”
With how angry she sounds, I guess I wasn’t the only one in the dark.
“And I’m certain Franchesco and Cito knew too! Those fucking pigs!” she curses, making me giggle a little. She always knows the right things to say.
“He helped Lucia get Ciro too, and Ciro lied to me about not knowing who Lucia got help from.” I shake my head. “He says he was ‘protecting me,’ but I don’t need protection, I need the truth!”
“Get up,” she says as she climbs out of bed, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“Why?” I ask as I watch her walk to her wardrobe.
She doesn’t even glance at me as she starts picking out outfits.
“We’re leaving and going to be with Lisa’s family,” she says. “Plus, Ciro will die once he knows you’ve left. That will serve him right for ever lying to you!”
I blink, stunned by her confidence. “I . . .”
“Don’t! Ciro will die trying to find Lisa if that’s going to make you forgive him and come back. So don’t worry about her. For now, let’s go!” she orders, throwing her clothes in a bag.
Her fire ignites something inside of me, and for the first time since the call, I feel like I can breathe. I stand, shaky, but better, and wipe my tears.
Carmela grins, her usual mischief returning. “That’s my girl. Now, let’s go raise some hell.”
As I ring the doorbell of the place I always knew as home, my hands tremble. I do my best to steady my breathing, but I’m failing shamelessly.
“It’ll be okay, Vee,” Carmela assures me, holding my hand in hers, a warm smile plastered across her face, making it almost possible to breathe better.
My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest, and all I can think about is what to say. I really hope Mr. and Mrs. Brown aren’t here. I don’t know how I’ll face them, even though I’ve spent the last 12 hours preparing what to say.
The door creaks open and I brace myself as I come face-to-face with the person standing in front of me. Her brown eyes go wide in shock and sadness.
“Mom,” I call, letting out a sigh.
“Vida?” she whispers, like she can’t believe it’s me. Before I can utter another word, she pulls me into a tight hug, her body relaxing in my embrace.
“My darling child,” she whispers into my hair, the way she holds me telling me she needed one of her daughters to be here, no matter how much she’d protested.
“I’m here, Mom,” I tell her, holding her even tighter.
“You didn’t need to come,” she protests, her voice shaky. “I didn’t want you worrying yourself, or . . .”
“I need to be here,” I interrupt as I cling to her “And I don’t need Izzy to leave work and start coming back”
“Oh, sweet child,” Mom says, turning to Carmela and opening her arms for a hug, which Carmela takes without hesitation.
The three of us finally enter the house together, and I can feel the tension in the air the second the door closes behind us.
After greeting Dad and settling in the living room, I barely let myself breathe before getting up again. I stand by the window, staring out at the road that leads to Adam’s house, and I know I have to go over there. I don’t want them thinking I was in town from someone else. I came here for them and they deserve to hear it from me; my apology, my regrets. Even if they hate me for everything I’ve brought into their lives, they still deserve to know that I am deeply sorry.
“I’ll be back soon,” I announce as I grab my coat and head to the door.
Without another word, I walk out of the house and head across the street. The air feels thick with every step I take and as I knock on the door, I begin to have second thoughts. I could turn and run and never let them see my face. But it’s too late, the door opens almost immediately, revealing a worn out looking Mr. Brown. He stands there with his face pale and his eyes tired, but the moment he sees it’s me, he lets out a deep breath and smiles so widely.
I don’t deserve this.
“Vida,” he says softly before pulling me into a hug. His embrace is warm and welcoming, like he’s been waiting for me to show up.
“Please, come in,” he gestures.
As I step inside, the familiar scent of their home hits me like a tidal wave. I wasn’t welcomed here, I shouldn’t be here. I’ve done enough to this family.
As I finally decide to turn around and leave the way I came, I freeze as my eyes land on Mrs. Brown. The woman stops in her tracks as she walks out the kitchen, a tray of fruits in her hand and a mix of sadness and comfort on her face.
And just like that, my tears come gushing out.
“Vida,” I hear her say as she drops the tray on the table.
“I’m so sorry,” I sob, my voice breaking as I fall to my knees in front of her. I can’t bring myself to look at any of their faces. “This is all my fault. I . . . I shouldn’t even be here. I know I shouldn’t have come, I just . . .”
“Stop,” she says firmly, her voice laced with both kindness and authority as she kneels down to meet my eyes.
“My child,” she whispers calmly, cupping my face with gentle hands. “Don’t you ever say such rubbish again. You will always have a place in this house, Vida. Always. No one here is blaming you for anything.”
She smiles at me, her blue eyes piercing mine like they too need me to believe what her mouth is saying, but I can’t.
“But I . . . it’s my . . .”
“Shhh,” she hushes me as she wipes my tears. “The moment you loved my son, you became family, Vida, and that means your troubles are ours to share. Just as ours became yours. God has his reasons, my dear, and you feeling sorry and guilty, isn’t one of them.”
I don’t know what good I’ve ever done to deserve the love I get from them. I wrap my arms around her as we both cry, holding onto each other like two people drowning in the same storm.
After a long silence, I finally whisper, “Can I stay here tonight? Just one night?”
Mrs. Brown smiles softly, wiping off a tear from my cheek.
“Of course, sweetheart. You can stay in Lisa’s room, but it’s a mess,” she giggles, shaking her head. “Or you can use Adam’s old room. Make yourself comfortable.”
I can’t sleep, I mean, how can I? I’ve been laying on Lisa’s bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking of the man who had consumed my whole world and lied to me. Yet, I miss him so much, so much it’s been a fight to keep my mind on Lisa instead of how his body curls around mine when we sleep together.
I let out a sigh of frustration as I get up, and like my legs are almost on autopilot, I walk silently down the hall to Adam’s old room.
The moment I step inside, memories of the past pull me and drown me in her embrace. Everything looks the same, from the bookshelves to the faint scent of him that still lingers in the air. My knees give out, and I crumple to the floor.
I don’t know why I’m crying. I can’t pinpoint the reason I feel so sad. Is it for missing Lisa, who doesn’t deserve any of this? Or for Adam, who is likely turning in his grave, regretting the day he met me? Or for Ciro, who is probably putting himself in danger just to make me happy? Or for Mr. and Mrs. Brown, who are trying to have faith in a God who has let their children vanish? Or for me and everything I never asked for being forced down my throat?
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I am so, so sorry, Adam. For coming into your life. For ruining it. For making your family suffer . . . again.”
I press my forehead to the floor, my tears soaking into the carpet Adam bought when we were 16, all because his mom could see us when we were lying on the bed.
“I promise I’ll fix this. I’ll make it right. And then I’ll leave. I’ll leave them alone forever. I swear.”
I lay on that carpet, mourning all over again, and begging whoever is listening to save Lisa. As exhaustion takes over, my mind lingers on how much I miss Ciro. His blue eyes are the last thing I think about as I fall asleep, curled up on the floor of Adam’s room, surrounded by memories and regret and . . . goodbyes?
The sunlight wakes me up, my body hurting from lying on the ground for so long, and my eyes feel like they are being burned from the inside.
I sit up slowly, my tummy rumbling in hunger. I glance at my phone seeing a million texts and calls, most of them from Ciro. I sigh and check the time.
2:45 PM. Shit. How did I sleep for so long?
As I head down the stairs, the smell of freshly cooked food hits my nose. Mr. Brown stands in the kitchen, setting up plates on the table.
“Look who’s up,” he says, turning and smiling at me.
“Sorry I slept in,” I manage to mutter, trying to stretch out my sore limbs.
“We all did.” He laughs. “Come eat.”
He places a plate in front of me, filling it with some mac and cheese and extra sauce.
“Your mom and my wife went to church just a few hours ago,” he says, sitting across from me. “They’ve been praying since they left. For Lisa. For all of us.”
His smile is sad as he looks at me. I smile in return, giving him a quick nod. I don’t think eating is something I want to do when I’m worried about Lisa, but I force the food to go down my throat, whispering a “thank you.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Vida,” he says, dropping his fork and looking at me. “Not once have we blamed you or even thought about it.”
“Adam didn’t die alone, you were there and you’re here now. It’s all that matters to us,” he says with a small smile before picking up his fork again and taking another bite. “We want you to be happy and learn to move on.”
I pick up my fork, taking a forkful and finally enjoying the food. I can feel the tears roll down my cheeks, and watch them drop onto my plate, but I don’t care. For some reason, this is the best mac and cheese I’ve ever had.
“So . . .” he begins, finally breaking the silence that’s lingered since his last words. “How’s married life treating you?”
The question catches me off guard, making the fork slip from my fingers.
“It’s . . . good,” I say blandly, forcing a smile as I look at him. I didn’t think talking about Ciro in front of my dead ex’s dad was on the list of things I’d do before I die, but here we are.
I watch him chuckle softly before leaning back in his chair and folding his arms.
“Vida, just because I’m not your father-in-law doesn’t mean I don’t care like a father would.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, smiling genuinely now. Adam and Lisa have the best parents and I am lucky enough to know them.
He nods, giving me space to speak. After thinking about his question for a while, I finally say something.
“Marriage is . . . okay. I’m still trying to adjust to the new life, the new world. But . . .” I pause, unsure if I want to talk about it with him or not. “He lied to me, and I don’t know how to get past that.”
I watch his smile fade and his expression turn concerned.
“Ah,” he says with a soft laugh, leaning forward. “I can’t say much to make you feel better about that. It’ll make me sort of a hypocrite, but I lied to my wife, too, when I first found out Lisa was missing? I hid it from her for a whole day.”
“You did?” I look up at him with surprise.
He nods, his smile fading.
“Sometimes . . . it just happens. We tell ourselves we’ll tell them at the right time, when it won’t hurt as much. But that time never comes.” He sighs deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not an excuse. It’s just . . . what we do, thinking it’s for the best.”
“And it never is,” I add.
“Nope,” he chuckles.
I stare at him, my chest tightening as his words sink in. There is some sort of honesty in his words that makes me almost understand Ciro, and though it doesn’t erase the hurt, it makes me feel less mad at him.
“Does she hate you for it?” I ask quietly and watch as he smiles faintly.
“No. She was angry, furious even. But she understood and I learned from it. Marriage . . .” He shakes his head smiling. “It’s not perfect, but it’s honest. And sometimes, it takes making mistakes to get there.”
He’s right, it takes making lots of mistakes, and though I can’t compare the two, I’ve hidden things from him too.
“Thank you,” I murmur, letting his words soothe me like a balm. “I don’t know if I’m there yet. But . . . I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all you can do, my dear,” he says warmly. “Your best is all the other person needs.”
After clearing the table and kitchen, I decide to head back home to be with Carmela and Dad.
“I’ll come with you. I could use some air.” Mr. Brown offers.
Carmela had done everything to keep everyone entertained with her usual sarcasm and charm, she had also called everyone she knew in town to search for Lisa.
Dad and Luca had returned a while ago, looking exhausted and defeated.
“We’ve got nothing yet,” Luca says, his voice thick with frustration. “But everyone’s out looking. No one’s stopping until we find her.”
I was glad our moms weren’t back from the church yet, seeing how Dad and Luca looked, it was enough to crush the spirit.
We sit at the dining table, Mr. Brown, waiting for his wife to return, while Dad and Luca make some more search plans for tomorrow. A few more hours pass and it’s almost dark outside when the doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it. It’s probably the ladies back from church,” Mr. Brown says, getting up and heading to the door.
“I apologize for being late,” a deep voice I’d recognize anywhere says, making my heart stop beating.
He’s here! I stand up immediately and look towards the door. There he is, standing in the doorway, his shirt smeared with blood, his face bruised, and his expression dark with exhaustion. And in his hands . . . Lisa! She looks to be unconscious or sleeping, but it doesn’t matter, she’s here!
Mr. Brown’s mouth opens in a silent cry before he finally finds his voice, yelling for us to come.
“She’s here! Lisa’s here!” he cries, carefully taking Lisa from Ciro’s arms, his body trembling as he clutches his daughter to his chest. Tears run down his face as he carries her into the house, yelling for someone to grab a first aid kit, which Luca does immediately.
Ciro steps inside, his gaze immediately locking onto mine, and I stare at him, torn between wanting to run and hug him or staying mad. His presence awakens every emotion I’ve been trying to suppress since I left him on the boat.
“I’ll take her home and call Dr. Victor,” Mr. Brown says, grabbing my attention.
“I’ll come with you, at least till Mrs. Brown is back home,” I reply, following him.
“But . . .” he pauses, looking at Ciro and then back at me. When his expression softens, I see that knowing look in his eyes that tells me he knows why I need to be away from here. “I will need some help with getting her changed.”
I sit by Lisa after the doctor leaves. Mr. and Mrs. Brown have gone downstairs, leaving just Lisa and I in her room. She looks so beautiful. Even with the little bruises on her face, she still looks like an angel.
“Hey you,” she says, finally letting me witness her perfect smile, the same one Adam would tease her about.
“Hey you,” I reply, stroking her hair.
“Didn’t think I was kidnap worthy,” she giggles.
Jokes! She’s making jokes!
“Lucky you.” I laugh, trying my best to match her mood.
“And your husband . . . a fine hunk of a man.” She winks at me, making my cheeks turn red.
“Can we focus on what’s important right now?” I roll my eyes at her.
“The part where you apologize for what you didn’t do and maybe cry and feel sorry for yourself and me?” She arches her brow and laughs. “Nope! Can’t be caught doing depressing shit.”
“I shouldn’t be laughing, Lisa. Stop making it hard,” I say, giggling at her joke.
“I’m serious. That sick fuck should die soon and from the look on Ciro’s face when he came in like a knight to rescue me, I’m sure Donato will be dead soon,” she explains.
“Still, this wouldn’t have happened if . . .”
“What? You didn’t do the right thing? Vee, I’m okay. I promise. Plus, I get to tell my classmates a hot mafia Don rescued me. Do you know how popular I’ll be after this?”
I laugh, watching her wink at me. Maybe, just maybe, she is right. I shouldn’t feel so horrible.
“Also . . .” she starts, taking my hand in hers and smiling softly. “He loves you, doesn’t he?”
“I don’t know, I guess?”
Liar!
“You lie horribly. It’s okay if you love him too,” she says, relaxing again. “Just in case you needed my blessing or something.”