Chapter 48 Allegra
ALLEGRA
Present Day
Lia thinks she knows what happened to me, but she has no idea. I still have nightmares about Chiara and what she'd done to me—my own twin bludgeoning me to death.
I'd just put Luca to sleep when she'd come in, her expression disgustingly smug as she'd looked me up and down.
"Still a fat bitch, I see," she'd commented, a vicious smile spreading across her face. I'd tried to be the better person, and I hadn't responded to her taunt.
"What are you doing here, Chiara?" She was the last person I'd ever expect to come congratulate me on giving birth.
"What else?" she'd taken a few steps inside, looking around, her eyes narrowing on Luca. I'd put myself in front of him, not wanting her to be anywhere near my baby. I'd rather die than have this joke of a human being have anything to do with my precious little boy. "I wanted to see your brat."
"You've seen. Now you can go."
"Is that how you greet your sister? After I had to marry Franzè because of you. At least you got a hot one. I got one that could barely get his dick up. And even then I barely felt it."
"Don't be crass," my face had twisted in distaste. "I'm surprised Franzè didn't kill you, since we both know you didn't go to your marriage bed a virgin."
Chiara had laughed in my face. "Good thing he liked my ass better than my pussy, but even then it was just like having a finger in…"
"For God's sake, Chiara, is that why you came here?" I'd asked, exasperated.
"No," she'd stopped in front of me, and it was like looking in a mirror. "I came here to give you a little warning. Your little stunt with the feds is going to get you killed."
My eyes had widened in dismay.
"How…"
"How? Imagine my surprise when I was casually strolling through the city and a certain Special Agent McNaught approached me, calling me Mrs. Agosti and asking me if I'd reconsidered his offer."
"Then you know that I didn't take his offer," I'd worded my phrase carefully, trying to get her to back off.
"I do, but our parents don't."
"What do you mean? You told them?" I'd burst out, worry gnawing at me.
"Them and…" she'd paused, satisfaction filling her features as she'd watched me slowly lose my calm. "Rocco."
"What… why…" I'd stammered, suddenly realizing where this was all going.
"Because, dear sister," she'd taken a step forward, her finger poking into my chest, "you're living the life I should have been living. And I intend to remedy that."
"You can't do that," I'd wrapped my fingers around her hand, twisting it away from my body. "Enzo won't let you."
"Won't let him? He proposed the whole idea since, let's face it, I'm not only better looking," she'd paused, looking down her nose at me, "but I also fuck better."
"I don't believe you," I'd replied, my hand searching for my phone. "Why don't we give him a call then? He can confirm for himself what a great lay you are," I'd decided to play her game, knowing that Enzo would never betray me like this.
And I'd been right. Just as I'd made a run for the phone, Chiara had jumped me, tackling me to the ground. My body had still been recovering from the birth, so the fall had been excruciatingly painful.
"Fucking bitch," her punch had connected with my jaw, her knuckles catching the left side of my face. A low moan of pain had escaped me, and I'd mustered all my remaining strength to try to push her off me.
But I couldn't.
A few more punches and I was already dizzy from the cumulative pain.
At some point I'd heard Luca cry, but I'd been immobilized on the floor, unable to do anything.
"Luca," I'd whimpered, still under a barrage of punches.
"Guess who your fucking brat will call mamma," she'd laughed, taunting me further.
Eyes wide in fear, skin ruptured and bleeding, I'd tried to fight back. Anything to go back to my baby and hold him to my chest, whisper loving words, and make sure he was safe.
But just as I'd started gaining some ground while returning her punches, she stopped holding back. Wrapping one hand around my neckline, she'd dragged my body across the floor until she reached a table.
I'd been so battered that only inarticulate sounds escaped my lips. Still, I'd tried to reason with her, beseech her to let me be.
My baby… Luca…
My only thought had been Luca and what would happen to him when I was gone.
And so my eyes had honed in on him as Chiara wrapped her fingers in my hair, her nails digging into my scalp.
Dragging my head toward her, she'd applied maximum strength as she'd pushed me back toward the leg of the table.
One side of my face had taken the brunt of the force, and I'd felt myself slipping.
Time after time she'd smashed my face against the table until I knew I wasn't whole anymore. Through some sort of divine punishment, I felt everything. I felt the skin rupturing, the bone crushing and digging into my flesh. I'd felt the blood pour out of me, and I'd known in that moment.
I was dying.
She'd continued until I stopped moving completely, my limbs paralyzed, a pain unlike any other filling my entire being.
"Not so strong now, are you?" she'd spat on me before rising to her feet to make a phone call.
In a state between life and death, I could only wait for the blackness to come. Briefly, I thought of Luca and Enzo, the two people I loved more than anything.
And as I was dying, I'd hoped to meet them again.
But I didn't die.
I may have lost five years of my life and my baby boy's, but I'm far from dead. If anything, I'm determined.
From what Lia had told me and from what I'd seen online, it's clear that no one's missed me. Why, Chiara is right at home masquerading as me, and for all of Lia's protests to the contrary, Enzo sure seems cozy fucking his way through the entire city—even having the audacity to flaunt it publicly.
Besides Luca, he'd been the first person I wanted to see when I'd woken up.
But the more I navigated the events of these last five years, the more disappointed I became.
I saw countless photos of him with beautiful women, all in intimate settings, and sometimes even outside hotels.
My heart had taken a big hit when I'd realized how quickly he'd discarded me.
If I'd been ready to look past his brutal nature, I could never look past his infidelities. So what if he hadn't directly contributed to me spending half a decade in a coma? He'd enabled the people who did, and that made it just as bad.
No, it made it worse. Because he'd had my heart—and he'd destroyed it.
Lia had tried to suggest he might have his reasons for doing that and that I should listen to him first. I'd declined. It's not as if it's the first time he's strayed.
In the beginning, I'd told myself to turn a blind eye; after all, we weren't on good terms and I couldn't expect him to be faithful to an unwanted wife.
But as time passed and our bond deepened, so did my feelings and expectations.
Every time I'd smell that perfume on him had been like being stabbed in the heart, viciously and repeatedly.
It was only during my pregnancy that I thought he might finally be mine, and I'd been satisfied with whatever crumbs of affection he'd give me.
I'd just bottled everything up—the neglect, the cheating, the unrequited love—everything for the sake of harmony and the prospect of a family. I'd given everything in me, and he'd simply taken it.
Not anymore.