21. Look What You Made Me Do
LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO
There’s a single knock on the door. It opens before I have time to say a word. Or, more likely in my current mood, ignore it entirely.
Slowly, my eyes shift from the vanity mirror to the doorway. For the first time since that awful lunch with Salvatore, relief flickers in my chest.
I stand too fast, my knee knocking into one leg of the table, making the makeup spread across the surface clatter.
“I will give you two a moment,” Sienna says, giving my cream silk dress an approving nod before she shuts the door again.
Isabella offers me a strained smile. I manage a tiny one in return. I’m not sure what to say. I don’t especially want to discuss all that’s changed since we last spoke, yet pretending it isn’t happening won’t accomplish anything.
“Will you go back?” I finally ask when I can’t stand the silence any longer.
She shakes her head, confirming what I always suspected—she stayed in Chicago for me.
“Did you know?” My voice holds absolutely no intonation.
She works for Salvatore, and warning me would have accomplished nothing. If we’d stayed in Chicago, he is the one person who would have known exactly where to look.
Isabella shakes her head again. “I am so sorry, Carina. I wish I …” Her voice trails, confirming what I already know—she can’t do anything.
I lived in Chicago at my father’s discretion, not hers.
I bite my lip and look away, fighting the burning in my eyes. I’m not at the point where I can reassure anyone else. I’m still struggling to accept this new reality.
Tonight, I’m meeting Nico Morello. Minutes later, our engagement will be announced.
Hopefully, he’s young and handsome, like Enzo said.
More importantly, I hope he’s nice. Ideally, I’ll feel better about this arrangement after meeting him.
But he could be the kindest, most attractive, and age-appropriate man in Italy, and I still wouldn’t want to marry him. Because it’s not my choice.
And if he’s awful? I’ve spent the past five days pleading with my father, trying to convince him to change his mind, and he hasn’t. I don’t know if there’s anything I can say to change this, and that finality will be so much worse if Nico’s not the eligible bachelor he’s being portrayed as.
“Turn around,” Isabella tells me.
I do, listening to her quiet footsteps approach.
I smile—the sensation bittersweet—when I feel her tug the zipper up to the base of my neck, recalling the many times she helped me adjust outfits before.
I’m assuming Nico’s house is as big, if not bigger, than this one.
He must have a staff, but I’m not selfish enough to ask Isabella to remain with me.
I assume she’ll be invited to the wedding, which Salvatore has hinted will happen later this summer.
After that, who knows when I’ll see Isabella again? She’s safer far from me.
A lump forms in my throat.
Isabella’s hands brush my bare shoulders, and then a light weight settles against my chest, just below my collarbone.
I glance down, expecting a cross. It’s the wrong shape. The pendant hanging from the chain is circular, the diameter slightly smaller than a coin’s. I pick it up to peer closer at the surface.
“Diana,” Isabella tells me. “Or as the Greeks call her, Artemis. Goddess of the hunt.”
I stare at the design carved on the pendant—a woman with wild hair and a fierce expression, raising a bow with an arrow notched, minuscule stars scattered in the background.
“It’s beautiful,” I say.
“I saw it at a shop yesterday. No violin, but she reminded me of you. Fierce.”
The lump expands until I’m worried my entire windpipe must be blocked. Passing out feels like a real possibility.
“Thank you,” I whisper, hating the tremor in my voice.
I don’t feel fierce; I feel helpless.
“I should be going.”
I turn to face her and nod. “Thank you for coming.”
She cups my cheek in a way she hasn’t done since I was much younger. “It could not last forever, cara,” Isabella tells me.
I nod rather than disagree. I thought it could. I thought it would. I truly believed I’d be allowed to stay in Chicago for as long as I wanted to. That I’d spend the rest of my life as Carina Carson.
It’s now obvious everyone—including Isabella—understood that arrangement wasn’t truly for my benefit. That it was temporary. It was to keep me safe until I served a purpose. Served this purpose.
Isabella aims one last tender smile at me. “Call me if you need anything. Promise?”
I nod again, knowing I won’t.
I was conflicted about even requesting this visit.
Any association with my family is dangerous, and the only benefit to me being pulled deeper means she’s finally free from it.
I wasn’t sure Salvatore would allow her on the property.
I’m not being treated as a prisoner, per se—no one has taken my phone or tried to restrict my movements.
Yet I have no car, and we’re isolated enough in the countryside, which means I’m essentially stranded since there’s nowhere to walk to.
Any outing would require asking my father, and I’m loath to request anything from him, except to forget this awful arrangement.
To so much as speak to him since he’s repeatedly refused to.
Once Isabella leaves, I sink back down in front of the mirror.
I contemplated showing up to tonight’s party wearing sweatpants and a scowl, but my pride dictated I put extra effort into my appearance instead. I’m more likely to sway my father into considering my feelings by making him proud than furious.
Men prioritize beauty in a woman above anything else. I’ll have a better chance with Nico if he sees me as a pretty prize, not a possession that is being transferred to him.
Voices drift through the open doors of the balcony. My room faces the circular drive, surrounding a fountain, in front of the villa.
The commotion means guests are beginning to arrive. Which means my introduction as Carina Caruso is imminent. These are my final moments of anonymity. Of freedom.
I continue staring at my flawless reflection, delaying the inevitable.
The noise level outside is increasing. Voices are beginning to filter up the stairs as guests begin to enter the house.
I glance at the clock on the wall, then stand. Hiding up here won’t help. It will only make me appear weak, avoidant, and high-maintenance.
The hallway is empty but loud, sounds from the party below echoing off the limestone walls and terra-cotta-tiled floor.
I pause halfway, spotting Enzo’s ajar door ahead.
He’s avoided me since our conversation by the pool, making me hope he might be more sympathetic to my situation than he acted.
If he agreed with Salvatore entirely, wouldn’t he be willing to continue telling me so?
There’s a chance he simply doesn’t want to deal with me.
But I’m choosing to believe the former because having no allies at all is too depressing to contemplate.
“Enzo?” I inquire softly.
No answer, so I nudge the door open enough to stick my head in.
The room is empty. Enzo must have already gone downstairs, and it’ll be a lot harder to corner him among a sea of guests that include my father and other brothers.
I exhale a heavy sigh of disappointment, about to continue my walk of dread when I see it.
The black flash drive Enzo showed me at the pool, sitting on his dresser. Unless he has multiple copies of the same drive, which seems unlikely. What was it he said? I sift through the memory, trying to recall. I was more preoccupied with my own problems than with my brother’s dismissive comments.
Something about being hacked, I think? Which must mean whatever is on there is important, something my father needs to keep secure.
Something I could use to bargain.
Right now, Salvatore has all the power. He has me trapped here, and all I can do is protest.
I take a cautious step into Enzo’s room, then two.
Pick up the drive, curling my palm so it forms a fist. The only computer I know of is downstairs, in my father’s office, and there’s no way I can waltz in there to check what’s on here with the party going on.
As soon as Enzo realizes this is missing, they’ll start searching.
As long as I’m here, there are limited places for them to look.
I could run.
The desperate thought has occurred to me before, but it never felt feasible. I hoped Salvatore might change his mind after days of pleas. I accepted I had nowhere to go and no way to get there.
I still have no destination.
But Sienna told me the guest list for tonight was over three hundred.
The villa is crowded with people, and the grounds are full of strangers’ cars.
I’ve given my father’s guards as wide of a berth as possible, spending most of the time indoors, away from the brutal sun, or swimming.
If they’ve seen me this week, it wasn’t while I was wearing a full face of makeup and a silk gown.
And if they don’t recognize me, they won’t try to stop me.
I glance down at the piece of plastic again. Then touch the necklace Isabella gave me. Rub the surface like it’s a talisman.
When I reenter the hallway, I turn left, back toward my room, rather than continuing toward the stairs.