Chapter 50 Allegra #2
"Little tigress," he starts, lifting my hand to his mouth.
I hold still, even though a shiver goes down my spine at the pet name and the fact that he's touching me so tenderly.
"It's getting harder and harder to be away from you.
" His lips brush back and forth against the back of my hand, his warm breath tantalizing my senses.
Goosebumps spread all over my skin. I hope he doesn't realize the change or the fact that I tremble slightly every time he brushes his thumb over my wrist.
Why does he have to be so seductive? So magnetic?
"Every year, I hope it's going to be the last and you're finally going to wake up. But…" he pauses, and a liquid drop trickles down my hand. It takes me a moment to realize it's tears as muffled sounds accompany the wetness.
He's… crying? For me?
He comes to visit weekly, but until now he's only talked to me about Luca—he'd tell me about his hobbies, how he's really enjoying his piano lessons, and how his first small show had been a success.
His conversations had never touched on anything sensitive, and I'd been grateful for it.
Most of all, I'd been happy to hear more about my baby boy—details that I otherwise would have never known.
"Do you know, when I thought your sister had killed you, I'd been ready to obliterate every one of them.
I had my gun loaded and wouldn't have hesitated to create a bloodbath.
Worse than anything is that…" Another pause as he takes a deep breath, the back of my hand against his wet cheek.
"If it hadn't been for Luca, I would have killed myself too.
" The words are soft, barely above a whisper.
My heart stops in my chest, his words hitting me so hard I almost gasp out loud. But I hold it all in.
"In that moment, all I saw was vengeance.
Because they had taken you from me before I managed to show you just how much you mean to me.
" He squeezes my hand, his voice almost broken as he continues.
"And sometimes, like today, I ask myself if any of this is worth it…
if…" His throat clogs up, and so does mine as my eyes get moist behind my lids.
"If you never wake up. What am I going to do if you never wake up? "
"And so I thought about something. When Luca is old enough to move out on his own, I can join you."
It takes everything inside me not to react to that statement, but when he starts going into detail about his plans, including the venues he's chosen where we can be together forever—cryogenic sleep, he calls it—my heart starts beating out of control.
The beeps on the monitor reflect the sudden change; the sounds become shorter in interval.
"Tigress," he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, incredulity dripping from that one word.
He must have noticed my heartbeat as well.
Damn it!
But how am I supposed not to react when he's saying things like that?
"You can hear me?" his voice is so soft, his breath fanning over my skin as he starts kissing my pulse point.
Did he have to go for that spot? Damn, it's getting a little hot in here.
I don't reply, emptying my mind and trying to calm my erratic heart.
"God, if you can hear me, please come back to me. I'll do anything you want; I swear. I'll never kill another person in my life if that's what you want. We can move somewhere else. Anything, little tigress. Just please come back to me."
His pained cry touches me deep in my soul, and I don't know how I manage to keep it together. He continues to talk to me about this perfect life that we'd have together with Luca and other children, about how he'd never upset me again.
And I waver.
There's such sincerity in his voice, such emotive candor that I barely restrain myself from jumping out of bed and into his arms.
But that would be weak.
How many times have I given in to him before? Only to be disappointed again and again?
The perfect life he so fondly talks about would be just an illusion, one that would eventually shatter, and I'd be left like before—battered and bleeding and picking up the pieces of my broken heart.
This resolve is the only thing that helps block out everything—even the sweet kiss he lays on my lips as he stands up to leave.
"What happened?" Lia bursts through the door a while later.
Moving to a standing position, I wipe my eyes, dabbing at the small trickle of moisture that has made its way down my cheeks.
"Signor looked so bad. Did he say anything? What happened?" she continues to probe, but I just shake my head.
"Nothing," I say, waving my hand dismissively. "Let's start planning."
Enzo can wait.
My family cannot.
"Can you check the back?" I pull the wig down over my forehead, adjusting the hairline.
"It's done," Lia says as she swoops the curls aside to check if it's secured in place.
Tonight is the ball Enzo had talked about, and to my great surprise, it's a masquerade.
That means no one will know who I am, and I can blend in among the guests.
And if what he said about my parents being present is right…
then I think it's the perfect opportunity to have a tête-à-tête with my progenitors.
I'd gone to a lot of trouble to make sure no one will be able to see through my disguise.
My entire face is covered in makeup, and Lia helped me book an appointment with a professional.
The makeup artist had given me cheek and jaw definition so that when I finally don my face mask, I don't look like myself at all.
Made entirely of black lace, the mask is malleable and fits perfectly to the upper half of my face, protecting my identity. I'd also put on a pair of blue contacts, for good measure.
"If I didn't know it was you…" Lia trails off, her eyes going down my rather scandalous gown—a black Lolita dress. A corset cinches my waist and pushes my boobs up, with the skirt barely covering my ass.
No one would ever believe that boring old Allegra would wear anything like this. It's much more indicative of Chiara's wardrobe. But for this event, I have to be as unlikely me as I can.
Because I can't have anything incriminating to me.
Adding some small tools to a simple black pouch, I get ready to leave.
"You're sure about this, Miss? You can still back out…
let it go," Lia tells me as I head toward the door.
I know she means well, and because she has such a pure heart, she cannot comprehend that there's a boiling need in my veins to see justice done.
I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive anyone and still look at myself in the mirror.
All my life, I've endured people's scorn, thinking that maybe there was something lacking about me that brought out the worst in others.
Maybe I was someone that provoked only disdain.
And I'd been fine with just keeping away, remaining in my own world and ignoring the barbs around me.
And probably, if it had still been just me, I would have continued that way.
But they involved my son in this, and that I will never forgive.
I still remember the moment of his birth, the days I'd held him to my chest, whispering sweet words to him and imagining the future.
For once, I'd been optimistic about my own fate.
I was simply looking forward to living—to seeing my baby's first steps or hearing his first words.
These milestones seemed so easy at the time, so innocent.
But here I am. Five years later and I have none of that. They stole five years of my child's life, and for that, they will pay.
"I'll be fine," I tell her curtly, signaling that there's no going back.
Soon, I find myself passing through the gates of the house and stepping into the lively atmosphere. Everyone around me is wearing a mask, some even opting for complete costumes.
I spot pirates, fairies, and vampires.
Maybe I should have dressed a little better.
I make a round of the ballroom, taking a glass of punch and pretending to sip it. My eyes are taking in everyone who comes in and out, ready to act.
Enzo certainly spared no expense for this ball, since there's also a live orchestra in the corner that is currently preparing to start a waltz.
"I don't think I've had the pleasure," a smooth voice says from behind me. I turn slightly, only to be met with my husband's piercing gaze, his flimsy mask doing little to hide his identity.
"No, I don't believe so," I reply in English.
I'd prepared for this eventuality. Since Enzo and I only ever spoke in Sicilian, it would be easier to mask my identity this way. Unbeknownst to him, my English has also improved, and no one can make fun of my peasant-girl accent anymore.
"Why don't you tell me your name, beautiful?" His charm is quick to work, and I feel a pang in my heart. Of course, he's an innate flirt.
"How about I don't?" I retort saucily, returning the flirtation. "This is all about secrecy, is it not?"
Tonight has never been about Enzo, but staring into his bewitching eyes, I can't help but remember the tears he'd shed at my bedside not so long ago.
Laughter bubbles inside me as I realize that a few days ago he was promising me eternity, and now he's here trying to score with another woman.
Oh, the irony!
And I was once again the dumb girl who believed his sweet words laced with arsenic.
Maybe this is all for a reason. To finally erase him from my heart forever.
He clearly doesn't know who I am, so wouldn't this be the best way to test his loyalty?
"Dance with me." He doesn't give me time to react as he literally sweeps me off my feet, taking me with him to the dance floor.
The waltz is in full swing, and his hand reaches the small of my back, gripping me close to him as he leads me in the dance. My arms go around him, holding on to him, so close yet so far.
"What if I'd said no?" I ask cheekily, determined to see how far he's willing to take this coquetry.
"Would you?"
"Yes. I'm married, you see," I say softly, my words ending on a sad sigh.