Chapter 26
Annamaria
My eyelids won’t open. They feel too heavy, as if something were dragging them shut every time I try.
My body is also too stiff, like dead weight against the mattress, as if it’s sinking into it instead of lying on top.
My limbs don’t respond the way they should either.
Even breathing feels delayed, like my lungs are a step behind me.
But what troubles me more is how my thoughts feel thick and sluggish, as if wading through fog. Everything feels… off.
When I finally force my eyes open, I’m met with nothing but darkness. Shadows stretch across the room, broken only by tenuous slivers of moonlight slipping through what seems to be tall windows. Beyond the glass, the faint outline of unfamiliar skyscrapers rise into the night’s sky.
My heart begins to pound when I realize that I don’t recognize any of it.
Where am I?
I push myself up slightly, reaching for the memory of how I got here, but there’s nothing. Only silence, still and stark as the room around me. The thought sends a chill down my spine.
Come on, Anna. Think. Think.
The last thing I remember is getting ready for my parents’ wedding anniversary. Yes! I remember how excited I was, because I was going to see Raffaele that same night.
Rafe…
I remember running through the woods, knowing he’d be there waiting for me. And then I see him. The sadness in his eyes.
Why was he so sad?
As I try to make sense of it, another memory surfaces, slamming into me like a freight train and dragging the rest with it.
The way he turned his back on me… the handkerchief in his hand… the way he pressed it over my mouth and nose. The smell—sharp, chemical-like, and suffocating.
I hadn’t even had time to fight before my whole world went black. And now here I am… God only knows where.
My stomach twists violently as I jerk upright in the bed, the room tilting around me. I suck in a shaky breath, my hand flying to my face as if I could still feel the handkerchief.
Every part of me is on high alert now, and suddenly the back of my neck prickles, telling me I’m not alone. My pulse roars in my ears as I stare into the shadows, waiting, listening for any sign of movement.
“I know you’re here,” I call out, thankful that at least my voice is steady, even if my mind is working double time. “If you’re trying to scare me, then congratulations. You’ve succeeded. I’m scared. Happy?”
The words have barely left my lips when a standing lamp at the corner of the room flickers, its warm glow spilling over a man seated in an armchair.
However, it’s not just any man. It’s the one who’s haunted my nightmares since I was thirteen—Matteo Donato, Raffaele’s brother.
“That was never my intention,” he says calmly. “I just didn’t want to wake you, that’s all.”
“Really? How hospitable of you. Did no one ever teach you not to watch your guests sleep? Oh, wait. I’m not a guest, am I? I’m a hostage.”
The word feels heavy on my tongue, but I know it’s the truth the minute I say it out loud. I’m a hostage. His hostage. And Raffaele was the one who kidnapped me.
Pain like I’ve never felt before surges through me, the betrayal slicing my heart until it’s nothing more than a handful of confetti. Yet, to my surprise, I have the strength of mind not to show it. Like hell I’ll show anything but disdain to my captors.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, rising to his feet.
“Excuse me?” I ask, completely bewildered by his question. “Are you really talking about food right now?”
“You haven’t eaten in hours. And the sedative my brother used on you wasn’t mild,” he drawls, moving to the side table.
“I’m not hungry,” I bite out, watching him pick up a carafe and pour water into a tall glass.
However, all my pretense of fortitude disappears when he steps toward me. My self-preservation kicks in as I scramble to the farthest side of the bed, clutching the sheets to my chin as if such a thing could ever protect me from him.
Matteo’s fingers tighten around the glass, his black eyes devoid of light. But it’s the way his lips dip at the corners that puzzles me.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
I scoff.
“I’m sure all kidnappers say that to their victims to keep them docile. False hope won’t work on me,” I retort, still clutching the sheet.
“If you won’t eat, at least drink something. You’ll feel better for it,” he says, ignoring my remark as he extends the glass toward me.
The second it’s within reach, I slap it out of his hand. The glass hits the wall with force, shattering into large shards. I can’t help but wonder if I’d be fast enough to jump out of bed, grab one, and use it to cut my way out of here.
“You could try,” he says with a lopsided smile, as if in tune with my thoughts.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Matteo, but whatever this is, you’re as good as dead. My father will make sure of it.”
Instead of the dread I expected to see on his face after such a threat, his eyes light up.
“Matteo,” he repeats his own name softly, almost as if he’s never heard anyone utter it before. “I didn’t think you remembered me.”
“You’re hard to forget.”
He smiles once again.
“I hope you’re right,” he says, before turning his back to me to grab another glass of water.
When he steps toward me a second time, I raise my hand again, eager to knock it away. But this time, he anticipates my move and catches my wrist with his free hand, holding me still.
“I’ll have to buy more glasses if you plan on breaking every last one,” he says with a grin, his grip soft instead of forceful.
“Are you really making jokes right now?”
Matteo’s shoulders slump before shaking his head. “No. You’re right. I guess this isn’t the time for jokes.”
My brows pull together as he sets the carafe on the bedside table, placing the glass beside it.
“There are new clothes in the wardrobe for you, so feel free to take a shower and change into something more comfortable. If you change your mind and want to eat something, just let me know, and I’ll have it prepared for you.
It’s been a long day. I suggest you rest. I doubt tomorrow will be easier for you. ”
“Why?” I cock an eyebrow. “What’s going to happen tomorrow?”
“By my count, it will probably take your father at least a good twenty-four hours to figure out where you are. And once he does, it’s anyone’s guess how he’ll react.”
“And where exactly am I?” His eyes soften slightly, mirroring the faint curve of his lips.
“New York. Your new home.” My eyes widen at his reply.
“This isn’t, nor will it ever be, my home.”
“We shall see, cara mia. We shall see.”
It’s official. I’ve been kidnapped by a madman.
I don’t sleep a wink at night, replaying how I got myself into this mess in the first place. Here I thought I was falling in love, when in reality I was being played. Manipulated by the one person I thought would never hurt me.
How could Raffaele do this to me? After all the years we’ve been friends? After this past year, when our feelings grew into something more?
As if those memories weren’t hard enough to recollect, my mind then drags me back to the last kiss we shared. Everything about it felt wrong. That should have been my first warning sign. Though my heart truly believed his love for me was pure, my body and subconscious knew otherwise.
What Raffaele and I shared was never real.
It was always one-sided. Raffaele never loved me.
He just wanted to use me. This was probably his plan all along.
Maybe even from the very first time he called me, when I was still in junior high.
How foolish of me to think his offer of friendship had ever been genuine.
My cheeks burn at the memory of our most recent calls. The way he made me come undone with just a few words. Shame and embarrassment crash over me all at once, and I hate myself for being so stupid.
I get out of bed, feeling like I can’t breathe all of a sudden. My hands fly to my throat, but my fingers brush against the cool silver necklace resting there. Tears sting my eyes as I stare at the pendant with a single keynote at its center, and then at the sweet inscription on the back.
Lies. Lies. Lies.
I brutally rip it from my neck and hurl it against the wall with all my might. The sting against my skin is nothing compared to the mortification and humiliation burning through me.
I fall to my knees, burying my face in my hands as I sob, thinking about my family and how they must be losing their minds with worry.
And all for what? Because I trusted the one person I never should have? When they find out how gullible I was… I shudder at the thought. But then again, Raffaele was just a kid when this started. He couldn’t have come up with something like this on his own.
No. This has Matteo written all over it. He took me because he thought I was weak. He forgot that I’m a Romano, too. Let him try to scare me all he wants. I was raised by wolves. I know how to bare my teeth.
‘Be the villain,’ my sister, Stella, whispers in my mind. ‘Stop being the victim and be the villain instead.’
“Show me how,” I sob, wishing she were here to tell me what to do.
But she’s not here.
I have to face my monsters alone. I have to beat Matteo at his own game…
alone. And I can’t do that on my knees, crying over the mess I’ve made of my life.
I need my wits about me if I’m to stand any chance of beating Matteo at his game.
Which means I should at least try to sleep for an hour or two before he comes back.
I’m about to wipe my tears and climb back into bed when the door swings open. Matteo stands there in a three-piece suit, looking like Hades himself risen from the underworld.
“Anna?! Are you alright?” he says, rushing toward me, his eyes wide with something that almost looks like alarm.