28. Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Seven
Sienna
I lean against the doorframe, letting my eyes wander over the mesmerizing view of our little private beach. The day is utterly perfect, with the kind of weather that feels almost too good to be true. The sky stretches in a vivid, uninterrupted expanse of blue, dotted with a few fluffy, cotton-like clouds lazily drifting by, casting gentle shadows on the golden sand. A soft, balmy breeze whispers through the air, ruffling my hair and carrying the unmistakable, invigorating scent of the sea. A huge smile spreads across my lips as I watch Fabrizio, his infectious laughter echoing through the air as he plays with the twins. His voice is louder and more joyous than I’ve ever heard it before. He’s in his element, frolicking in the shallow waves with the kids, the three of them engaged in a playful water fight. Their shrieks of delight and splashes of water fill the air, creating a symphony of happiness that resonates deep within me. I step out of the house, feeling the warm, inviting sand beneath my feet as I make my way down to the beach. Each step I take feels like a gentle caress, the grains of sand massaging my soles. At this moment, I can’t recall a time when I felt more at peace, more content. It’s as if every worry and stress has melted away, leaving only pure, unadulterated joy.
I settle onto a sunbed, my eyes never leaving the delightful scene before me. Fabrizio, with his infectious laughter and boundless energy, alternates between lifting the children high into the air and tossing them back into the water, their giggles and squeals of delight reaching a crescendo. Watching them fills my heart with so much joy that I can hardly contain it; it feels like it might burst from sheer happiness.
As soon as he spots me, Fabrizio strides out of the water, droplets glistening on his sun-kissed skin, and a mischievous grin spreads across his face. His eyes lock onto mine with intensity, reminding me of the magnetic effect he still has on me. It’s unbelievable how he can make me feel, even after all this time.
With each step he takes towards me, the anticipation inside of me builds. Fabrizio’s well-defined body gleams in the sunlight, making him look every bit like a Greek god emerging from the sea. He positions himself behind me on the beach bed and pulls me close, his cool, wet torso pressing against my back.
“You’ve never looked more beautiful, cuore mio,” he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine admiration.
“You’re lying,” I reply, rolling my eyes playfully at him.
“No. Never,” he insists before placing a sweet, tender kiss on my cheek.
“Yet, you say that every day,” I tease, a smile playing on my lips.
“Because it’s the truth,” he responds, nuzzling my neck in a way that makes me hot all over and lean back into him. His big hands gently caress my swollen belly, and I lace my fingers with his, savoring this moment of pure bliss. “I love you,” he says softly, his voice resonating with sincerity. “Both of you.” Turning my head toward him, I press a loving kiss on his lips, feeling a deep connection that words can hardly describe.
“Ew. Mommy, Daddy, stop that!” Maddy squeals from the water, scrunching up her little face in mock disgust. “You’re supposed to play with us!” Her playful reprimand is met with laughter from both of us, and I realize that this—this beautiful, chaotic, love-filled moment—is what life is all about.
*
I love you.
Cuore mio.
Mommy.
The whispered words of happiness still echo in my mind as my head jerks up, and I take several deep breaths. My chest heaves with the effort to collect myself. The warm feeling that my dream left me with quickly dissipates, replaced by a turbulent swirl of other emotions that threaten to swallow me whole.
Silence. Darkness. Fear.
I had thought I knew real fear from the day I met Fabrizio, but as my eyes struggle to pierce through the oppressive gloom surrounding me, true terror seeps into every cell of my body. An unfamiliar, suffocating fear that far surpasses all my previous experiences. My mind is clouded by a hammering headache, making it nearly impossible to keep my eyes open.
Each beat of my heart sends a sharp, stabbing pain through my skull, and everything around me blurs into a dark, indistinguishable mass, leaving me disoriented and confused. The oppressive darkness feels as though it’s pressing down on me, trapping me in a nightmare from which I cannot awaken. Desperately, I close my eyes and press the palms of my hands against them, forcing myself to take slow, even breaths. The minutes crawl by at an agonizing pace, and the sharp pain in my head dulls slightly to a persistent, throbbing ache. Though the pain is still present, it becomes marginally more bearable, allowing me to gather my thoughts and make a feeble attempt to understand my predicament.
The air around me is cold and damp, carrying the faint, unpleasant smell of mold and decay. I lean back against a hard wall and press my hands into the padded surface beneath me, trying to ground myself in the reality of my situation. Specks of light dance in my vision as I attempt once more to take in my surroundings. The room is enveloped in darkness, and I can barely make out anything. There is no way to determine where I am or how I got here. The thought is deeply unsettling.
I take another deep breath, trying to focus and recall even the smallest detail. The last thing I remember is Oliver. I had put the children to bed, as I did every night, and then went downstairs to enjoy a movie and a glass of wine. After a few sips, I began to feel unwell, and then… Oliver.
Damn it.
There is only one logical explanation for my memory loss and the lingering fog in my mind: I was drugged. But how could that be possible?
There was no way anyone could have accessed the house. Oliver and Vance were there the entire time, unless… No, I refuse to entertain that thought. It makes no sense, even to my drugged mind, that Fabrizio’s men could be involved in this. I bury my face in my hands, sighing in frustration. Nothing about this situation makes sense.
Why would anyone take me ? I’m just a preschool teacher with a few hobbies and a limited social circle. But deep down, I already know this isn’t about me—it’s about Fabrizio.
Suddenly, a chilling thought cuts through my haze, sobering me for a brief moment. The twins.
The mere thought of them being in danger activates every protective instinct in my body. I vow to myself that if anyone harms even a single hair on their heads, I will make them pay.
Slowly and painfully.
A wave of determination washes over me. As I struggle to rise to my feet, I feel unsteady, swaying slightly.
My mind is still shrouded in fog, and each muscle in my body trembles with weakness. I lean heavily against the cold, unforgiving wall, doubting my legs’ ability to support me on their own. The relentless throbbing in my head continues, but at least the dark room has stopped spinning as violently as before. With my back pressed firmly against the wall, I close my eyes, trying to ground myself.
Slowly, I inch along the wall, each step tentative and shaky. The tiniest glimmers of light seep through the wooden cracks of the door, offering me a faint sense of direction. Each movement feels labored, as if an eternity has passed before I finally reach the door. My hands, trembling and clammy, press against the rough wooden surface. I take a deep, steadying breath before I begin to feel around for the metal handle.
Hope flickers, albeit briefly, as I grasp the handle and push down. Predictably, it doesn’t budge.
Locked. Of course.
A wave of frustration and helplessness surges through me. I consider pounding on the door, but I know it would be futile. Whoever is on the other side of this thick barrier isn’t going to let me out just because I demand it. And truth be told, I’m not even certain I want to meet whatever—or whoever—awaits me beyond this door.
I rest my forehead against the rough wood, fighting a rising tide of panic that threatens to consume me. But I can’t afford to succumb to my desperation.
Every muscle in my body tenses as I hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. Heavy, deliberate treads alternating with the sharp clack of heels. Snippets of conversation float through the air, barely audible and hard to decipher.
I press my ear against the door, straining to catch every word.
“What was I supposed to do?” A man’s voice booms through the air. There’s something disturbingly familiar about it, but I can’t place it. “It was her or nothing at all.”
“I can’t believe you, moron,” a female voice retorts, dripping with contempt. “I wanted that bastard’s offspring, not—”
“Not the girlfriend?” the man interjects. “Believe me, she’ll do for now.”
“You’d better be right,” the woman snaps. “I’ve waited long enough. I want to see that bastard suffer, and I won’t stop until…”
Her words trail off, but the fear they incite within me is overwhelming. A terrible realization begins to form in the pit of my stomach, gnawing at my insides—I am not going to get out of here alive.
The weight of my predicament crashes down on me, leaving me in an oppressive silence that feels both deafening and suffocating. The conversation echoes in my mind, the fragments of their exchange playing over and over until it suddenly strikes me. I know that man’s voice. I’ve heard it before, more than once. Recognition hits me like a bolt of lightning. I know who took me.