Chapter 5
Sofia
My chest muscles and my arms quiver as I push the bar away from me and towards its holder.
I’m finished with my bench press reps, so Hailey helps guide the bar back.
I feel more like myself after that workout.
After going through a period where I’d work out twice a day playing tennis in college, going days without movement makes my mind feel sluggish, so this hotel having a nice gym has been a godsend.
I needed this stress relief—I was informed by my grandfather this morning that this wedding is happening in three days.
Hailey whistles. “If you go much heavier, you’ll need to ask someone else to spot you. I don’t think I could lift this off of you if you got stuck.”
I sit up, glancing at Bianca sprinting on the treadmill, sweat falling down her face. Excessive cardio has been one of her coping mechanisms for her sobriety.
Hailey plops down onto the bench next to me, continuing on with her flashcards. She’s working on her bachelor’s degree, hoping to get into law school. She already got a fake degree from her cult’s private college, but now she’s getting an actual education.
She swears under her breath. “I don’t know what possessed me to choose geology for my natural science elective. I didn’t care about rocks before, and now I hate them.”
“How are your other classes going? Hopefully more interesting?”
She nods. “I like the history class I’m taking.” I hear Bianca breathing increasingly heavily behind me; it’s caught Hailey’s attention. “Okay, maybe I prefer studying rocks then doing whatever it is she’s doing.”
I laugh, but Hailey’s squinting at another flash card already. I decide to leave her to it and wander over to my sister, who has slowed down to a walking pace.
“Good workout?”
“Yeah.” Sweat pours down her face as she works on catching her breath. “Yesterday was… weird, so feeling like I was dying for a minute was strangely therapeutic.”
I snort. “You’re calling it weird? How do you think it was for me?”
“Worse, obviously.”
“I know,” I groan. “I’ve been racking my brain, trying to find a way out of this whole mess.”
“We can kill him.” Bianca shrugs.
“Ha! I wish it were that easy.”
Sometimes I am jealous of the men in my family because they actually can kill people to resolve their problems. Unfortunately for me, if I shot or stabbed someone, I’d immediately pass out or vomit because of my phobia.
Like what almost happened to me yesterday over Marco’s story. Not even anything tangible: just words.
I hear the gym door opening behind me, but I assume it’s a stranger until Hailey says, “Savannah!”
I give her a warm smile, happy that she could join us a couple of days early before my wedding.
She’s a family friend of ours that I’ve known forever; she even babysat us for a few years when we were still kids.
She flips her blonde hair over her shoulder and then gives me a quick hug before joining Hailey on the bench across from her, absentmindedly picking up a flashcard. “Yuck.”
“I know,” Hailey groans.
She turns to me. “Excited about your wedding?”
“She’s not,” Bianca cuts in before I can, stopping her treadmill. “We are plotting to kill him.”
Savannah winces. “Not a bad idea, from what I’ve heard.”
“What did you hear?” I ask.
She gives me a questioning look and tilts her head. “The lo spettro stuff?”
“In English?” Hailey puts down her flashcards.
“It means the ghost… I think,” Savannah says.
“It does,” I say. “But this is the first I’ve heard of it. Is that a nickname?”
Savannah leans forward in her seat, keeping her voice low despite the four of us being the only ones in this hotel gym. “Apparently, like fifteen or twenty years ago? A series of killings occurred—all the bodies drained of blood and left on the street in the middle of the night.”
My palms sweat. Is Alessandro a serial killer? Please tell me Savannah is only messing with me.
“Eventually,” she continues, “the authorities found out that all of these killings were mob-related, but the name persisted for about a year and no one put a face to the murderer. Until someone finally managed to snap a photograph of Alessandro dragging one of the bodies out onto the street in the middle of the night.”
“Stop.” Bianca covers her mouth.
“I’m sure you know at least this part, but Alessandro was adopted, and no one knows his origins. No one could find a last name, a birth certificate, or anything proving that he was alive. So… he was named ‘lo spettro’ by the media.”
“Fuck my life,” I mutter under my breath. “Please tell me you’re joking?” My heart pounds in my chest. My family wouldn’t marry me off to someone like this. Would they?
“How do you know all of this?” Bianca asks.
“Nick.” Savannah shrugs, referring to my cousin. She’s been dating him on and off for ages.
This comforts me. He could have made all of that up or at least exaggerated, knowing what he’s like—always trying to pull someone’s leg.
“He wasn’t full of it, though.” Savannah reads my mind. “If he were messing around with me, he would have laughed part of the way through that story. But he also isn’t terribly concerned and thinks that the whole stunt was some type of initiation.”
That’s better, but I’m still angry with the men in my family for setting this whole ordeal up and not telling me about this.
I’m pretty distant as the conversation flows from topic to topic, nervously biting the inside of my cheek instead of laughing along with the other girls. I clear my throat and gesture towards the door. “I’m going to head back to my room.”
Bianca stands up. “I can come with you. I desperately need a shower.”
We walk through the hallway, and Bianca hits the button for the elevator, turning to me. “It’s still bothering you, isn’t it?”
“Yep. I’m going to our parents’ room.”
“I’m coming with.”
Anger boils in my chest as we reach the top floor and hear the ding of the doors opening. My fist clenches as we approach their hotel room, then I pound on the door.
My dad opens it with a lazy smile until he sees my facial expression.
“Lo Spettro!?”
“Fuck.” He opens the door wider. “Come in.”
Bianca and I take a few steps into their room. Mom looks up from her tablet. I’m not sure if she’s heard about Alessandro’s lore or not. I’m assuming not; otherwise, she would have put her foot down about this wedding before I even heard of it.
“Did Max tell you?” Dad says, leaning back against the wall.
“Savannah.”
He sighs. “Nick never learned to shut up. Well?”
“Well? Well!? So, you knew about this and decided he was a good match for me anyway?”
“Look, the story is worse than it actually seems. It’s like a sick game of telephone. Every iteration of the story gets worse year after year. We’ve had eyes on him, and he’s not a serial killer. He’s not some torturing sadist. He’s killed, however…”
So has he, my brother, and every other male member of my family.
I nod.
“Anyway,” he continues, “our spy got so bored watching him—always focused on isolating himself and reading or stargazing or… I can’t remember what he’s into. But we don’t think there’s anything to be concerned about.”
“Well, he’s also a complete jerk, so I’m concerned about that.”
“What did he do? And what are you two talking about?” Mom stands up out of the chair she was lounging in, glaring at Dad.
“He made fun of me when I left the dining room yesterday, said that he hated me already, and the way he looks at me it… it…” Turns me on a bit. “Makes my skin crawl.”
My internal dialogue sends a wave of confusion over me.
Mom opens her mouth, but Dad cuts her off. “I’ll take care of it.”
“What does that even mean?” I ask. “Surely, that little bit of complaining didn’t convince you.”
“I’ll talk to him, and explain that if he lays a hand on you or hurts you in any way, then it’s war.
” He shrugs as if it’s nothing, but I question if he’s just saying words to make me feel more comfortable seeing that we’re already bending over backwards for these people.
“We get you out of there and then nuke their castle.”
I doubt what he’s saying is as easy as he makes it out to be, but it’s oddly comforting.
My mom envelopes me in a hug despite my horrible smell. “Oh, it’ll be alright, Sofia. Sometimes men act like fools around beautiful, intelligent women. Maybe it won’t be so bad once he gets to know you.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I doubt it, but I don’t want her warm smile to drop.
I guess I’ll find out in a few days.