Chapter 24
Emilia
T he night air was heavy with the scent of rain-soaked pavement, the kind of oppressive humidity that clung to your skin and made every breath feel like a chore. I slipped out of the side gate of the estate, the soft rustle of leaves overhead masking the sound of my footsteps. My father’s guards were stationed at the front entrance, as predictable as ever, but I wasn’t about to risk them spotting me. Not tonight.
I’d planned this escape with the precision of a heist—an Uber ordered under a fake name, a meeting point two blocks down the street, and my phone set to silent to avoid any unwanted calls. My heart raced as I crept through the shadows, the adrenaline buzzing in my veins like a second heartbeat.
This was stupid. Reckless. Dangerous.
And yet, I couldn’t stop myself.
The Uber was already waiting when I reached the corner, its headlights cutting through the darkness like twin beacons. I slid into the backseat, pulling the hood of my jacket up to obscure my face. The driver, a middle-aged man with tired eyes, barely glanced at me as I muttered a quick greeting.
“Amanda?” he asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.
"Yes." I nodded.
I confirmed with him the address of the bar, my voice steady despite the nervous energy thrumming beneath my skin. He nodded and pulled away from the curb, the car rolling smoothly through the quiet streets .
As the city lights blurred past the window, I tried to ignore the gnawing unease in my chest. Sneaking out like this was becoming a habit, one that I couldn’t seem to break.
The car came to a stop outside the bar, its neon sign casting a garish glow over the cracked sidewalk. I thanked the driver before slipping out of the car and pulling my hood down as I approached the entrance. The bouncer gave me a once-over before nodding me through, his expression bored.
Inside, the air was thick with the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke, the bass of the music vibrating through the floorboards. The crowd was already in full swing, bodies pressed together on the dance floor and voices raised in drunken laughter. I scanned the room, searching for Adrianna’s familiar face.
I found her at the bar, perched on a stool with a cocktail in hand. Her dark hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, and her baby pink dress clung to her curves in a way that made heads turn. She spotted me before I could call out, her face lighting up with a smile as she waved me over.
“Finally!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a quick hug. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”
“Sorry,” I said, forcing a smile as I slid onto the stool beside her. “Got held up.”
She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a knowing smirk. “Let me guess—your father’s guards?”
“Something like that,” I muttered, signaling the bartender for a drink.
Adrianna laughed, the sound light and carefree, and for a moment, I forgot what it was like to live in cages like ours.
“So,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially. “What’s new with you? Any handsome strangers sweeping you off your feet?”
I snorted, shaking my head. “Hardly. My life’s been...complicated lately.”
Her expression softened, and she reached out to squeeze my hand. “You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I’m here.”
I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. I wanted to tell her everything—to spill the truth about Dante, about the way he made me feel, about the rumors that clung to him like shadows. But the thought of saying it out loud made my stomach twist.
Instead, I forced a smile and changed the subject. “How’s Michael? Are you ready for the big day?”
Adrianna’s face lit up, her excitement contagious as she launched into a detailed account of her wedding plans. She spoke quickly, her words tumbling over one another as if she couldn’t possibly get them out fast enough. The flowers, the venue, the dress—it was clear she’d already envisioned every moment in her head, and I found myself smiling despite the storm brewing in my chest.
But then her tone softened, her excitement giving way to something quieter, something more personal. “I know what we talked about before the engagement but...” she said, trailing off, her gaze dropping to her hands as she absently twisted the engagement ring on her finger. The diamond caught the light, sparkling brilliantly, but she didn’t seem to notice. “An arranged marriage, right? It’s old-fashioned. Outdated. Everyone assumes I’m miserable about it.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but she shook her head, cutting me off. “But I’m not,” she said firmly, lifting her eyes to meet mine. “Michael...he’s good to me. He’s kind, thoughtful, and he listens—really listens. He’s not like some of the men we grew up around, you know? He doesn’t treat me like I’m just...an accessory.”
Her lips curved into a small, almost shy smile, and for a moment, she looked younger, more carefree. “I didn’t think I’d be happy with this. I mean, who dreams about their parents choosing their husband for them? But Michael’s...he’s different. He’s steady. And he makes me feel safe.”
I watched her as she spoke, the sincerity in her voice making my chest tighten. There was no hesitation, no flicker of uncertainty in her expression. She wasn’t just trying to convince herself—she truly believed what she was saying.
“I’m actually looking forward to it,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly. “The wedding, I mean. Starting a life with him. It’s not what I imagined growing up, but it feels...right.”
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Adrianna, with her soft smile and hopeful eyes, was a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in my own life. She seemed so sure, so grounded, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.
“That’s...really great, Adrianna,” I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended. “I’m happy for you.”
Her smile widened, and she reached out to squeeze my hand. “Thanks, Em."
“Speaking of weddings,” I said casually, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Do you know anything about Dante’s...situation? The woman he was arranged to marry?”
Adrianna’s smile faltered, and she set her drink down, her fingers tracing the rim of the glass. “Isabella Romano,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter now. “That’s who he was supposed to marry.”
I leaned in, my heart pounding. “What happened?”
Adrianna hesitated, glancing around as if to make sure no one was listening. “A friend of Michael’s brother told me some things,” she said, her voice barely audible over the music. “Apparently, there was a shootout. Dante...he didn’t protect her. He told his men to hold off, and she…”
She trailed off, her eyes flicking to mine, and I felt a cold knot of dread settle in my stomach.
“She died?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Adrianna nodded, her expression grim. “It’s not just a rumor, Emilia. People say she disrespected him somehow, that she preferred vodka.. and that’s why he didn’t save her.”
“Preferred vodka?” The Russians.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “And you believe that?”
“I don’t know what to believe,” Adrianna admitted, her gaze dropping to her drink. “But I do know this—Michael’s brother saw her with Dante a few times. Once at Christmas, once when she was trying to run away from him, and once…”
She hesitated, her voice trailing off.
“Once when?” I pressed, my chest tightening.
Adrianna looked up, her eyes dark with something I couldn’t quite place. “At her open casket,” she said quietly.
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My mind raced, piecing together the fragments of the story, and the sudden image of Dante standing over an open casket sent a shiver down my spine.
I pushed my drink away, the nausea rising in my throat. “I need to go,” I said abruptly, sliding off the stool.
Adrianna reached out, grabbing my arm before I could leave. Her brow furrowed in concern as she studied me carefully. “Wait. Emilia, what’s going on?”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, forcing a tight smile. “Just tired. That’s all.”
Her grip didn’t loosen, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re not fine. You’ve barely touched your drink, and you’ve been acting weird ever since Dante dropped you off at the bridal shower.”
I froze, my heart skipping a beat at her words. “What are you talking about?” I said, too quickly, too defensively.
Adrianna tilted her head, her expression skeptical. “You tell me. Why are you suddenly asking about him? Does this have something to do with why he brought you there? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because I know there’s more to it.”
I hesitated, my throat tightening. The weight of her words hung between us, and I could see the concern in her eyes, but also the curiosity. She wasn’t going to let this go.
“Adrianna…” I started, my voice trailing off. I couldn’t tell her everything, not here, not now. Not when I didn’t even fully understand it myself.
“Just tell me,” she said softly, her voice shifting, her grip on my arm firm but not forceful. “What’s going on? ”
I sighed, my shoulders sagging in defeat. “We kissed,” I admitted, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them. They hung in the air between us, heavy and charged.
Adrianna’s eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. “You what?”
I swallowed hard, looking away as heat rushed to my cheeks. “It just...happened.”
Twice.
But I wasn't about to open that can of worms.
She leaned back slightly, letting go of my arm as she processed what I’d just said. “Okay,” she said slowly, drawing out the word. “So, you kissed him. And now you’re asking me about rumors that he let some woman die? Emilia, what’s going on here?”
“It’s not what you think,” I said quickly, my voice sharp.
“Then what is it?” Adrianna pressed, her tone more serious now. “Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like you’re getting involved with him. Dante Conti, Emilia. Dante. You know who he is. What he is.”
I closed my eyes briefly, trying to steady the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “I’m not involved with him,” I said finally, my voice quieter. “It was just two kisses. That’s all.”
"Two?!" She was practically screaming. "Cazzo! Emilia! Oh mio dio. Il diavlo?" She asked cringing now.
I had broken my best friend. She was stunned into italian. Adrianna studied me for a moment, her expression softening slightly. “And?”
“And nothing,” I said firmly, though the words felt hollow.
She didn’t look convinced. “Look, I’m not judging you. I just...I don’t want you to get hurt. You know what people say about him. If half of it’s true…” She trailed off, her brow furrowing. “Just be careful, okay?”
I nodded, forcing a tight smile. “I will. I promise.”
But even as I said it, I could feel the lie beneath the words. Because the truth was, it wasn’t just one or two kisses. Not really. It wasn’t just a fleeting moment, something I could brush off or forget. It was a crack in the wall I’d built around myself, and I wasn’t sure if I could repair it—or if I even wanted to.
Adrianna sighed, leaning back against her stool and shaking her head slightly. “You always have to make things complicated, don’t you?” she said, her tone lightening just enough to make me smile faintly.
“Guess I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t,” I replied, though my voice lacked the usual humor.
She looked at me seriously now. "Okay, so how was it?"
We both locked eyes and burst out laughing. Because of course what would your best friend do after she learned you were kissing the devil?