Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Rachel
I sat in the dark living room, knees pulled to my chest, Camden so quiet outside that only the wind and distant ocean remained. This peace—I'd bought it with four years of blood and sweat. And he'd shattered it in a single night.
Four a.m., I finally dragged myself off the couch. Went into the bedroom and put everything back where it belonged. Shoved that old cookie tin to the deepest corner of the closet.
I couldn't leave. Not yet. Matteo was in town, and those eyes I couldn't see had already blocked every exit for me and Sofia. If I grabbed my daughter and ran in the middle of the night, I had no idea what he'd do—an enraged mafia don, his methods beyond anything I dared imagine.
Better this watched stalemate than the unknown of running. At least Sofia could still go to preschool on time, still eat Becca's cinnamon rolls. I had to endure this for her.
Morning came. I woke Sofia like always, dressed her, and made breakfast. She sipped her milk and bragged about last night's dream—she'd been a pirate captain who'd seized a whole ship full of chocolate gold coins. I smiled and listened, a weight of lead in my chest.
After dropping Sofia at preschool, I rushed toward the diner. That black car sat at the corner, unmistakable. Matteo leaned against the door in a simple charcoal cashmere sweater and black pants, holding a bag from the town's best cupcake shop. Obviously meant for the kid.
He saw me. Didn't approach, just stood there, those deep eyes watching me across half a block. I turned almost on instinct, took a different route toward the restaurant.
But that car followed, keeping its distance. I walked faster, nearly broke into a run. Finally, the Sea Breeze Diner sign appeared at the corner. But I couldn't take this anymore—being hunted like prey. And I couldn't lead him to the diner, couldn't scare Molly and the others.
I stopped. The black car stopped behind me. I strode over and rapped my knuckles on the window. It rolled down slowly, revealing Matteo's face. He pushed the door open, climbed out, started to hand me what he was holding but pulled back.
"I thought I made myself clear last night. I don't have time for this childish cat-and-mouse game."
"Rachel, please listen!" His words rushed out. "That business trip—it wasn't business. I was set up. Luca got hurt, I took a bullet in my left ribs, got stabbed."
My heart clenched.
"I didn't want you to worry, so I made up that excuse. If you don't believe me—"
He yanked up his shirt hem. I wanted to look away but couldn't control where my eyes went.
Above his defined abs, on his left side, two healed scars crossed each other viciously.
One was the darker gunshot wound, the other a knife slash, layered over the old scar from that night he'd come home injured.
They sprawled across his bronze skin, silently testifying to the blood and violence he'd survived.
My breath caught. Last night, when he'd said it, I hadn't believed him. "Just a performance"—I'd figured he was pissed his toy had run off, wanted to trick me back or fight for Sofia. But now the evidence was right there, naked and brutal, and my heart ached.
He suddenly grabbed my hand, his grip strong but somehow not painful.
"The engagement party—that wasn't what you think either.
The old guard at home and the Ashfords both pressured me to go through with it.
I was just stalling them; I needed time to deal with enemies and traitors inside the family.
Rachel, I swear, I never had anything with Samantha.
That so-called engagement—I tore it up myself afterward. "
He paused, his eyes darkening.
"But I did hide who I really was from the start. That, I can't defend. Still, Rachel, I'm asking you to give me a chance to start over. Don't shut me out."
He looked at me, eyes burning with hope.
"Matteo, I know all that now. I understand you had reasons."
A flicker of hope lit his eyes.
"But I'm past caring about what happened back then." I took a breath. "Sofia's over three now. She's starting to remember, starting to understand the world. She should grow up in the sunlight, not in the shadow of armored cars and bodyguards."
"If you really care about us," I stepped back, putting distance between us, "let us live quietly here. It's better for her. Better for me."
I didn't wait for his response. Didn't look at him again. Turned and walked straight toward the restaurant, pretending I couldn't feel his burning gaze on my back.
Matteo didn't follow, but the lilies never stopped appearing at my door. And now there were other gifts—sometimes mousse from the cake shop, sometimes limited-edition picture books, sometimes a clearly expensive handmade rocking horse.
I never kept any of it. The flowers went to Molly, who cheerfully arranged them in a glass vase at the register. The cakes went to Becca and Dana, or Mrs. Keller at the post office next door. Sofia's toys and books I donated to the town orphanage.
That afternoon, I was in the back kitchen prepping soup stock for dinner when the landline rang. Molly answered, then stuck her head in, expression odd.
"Rachel, it's for you."
I wiped my hands and took the receiver. "Sea Breeze Diner."
"It's me."
That voice—familiar enough to make my heart skip—came through the line. I almost hung up reflexively.
"Don't." He'd guessed my move and spoke quickly. "There's something you need to see in person. After you see it, you can leave immediately. I promise I won't stop you."
"There's nothing I want to see."
"You have to." His tone left no room. "After closing, come to the cottage by the abandoned lighthouse outside town."
"I'm not going."
"Samantha's here too."
My hand froze on the receiver. That name was a rusted key, instantly unlocking the darkest room in my memory. Her vicious mockery at that engagement party, my pregnant flight in the night... Hatred and humiliation surged up all at once.
"Fine."
I hung up. That night, I closed the shop an hour early.
I left Sofia with another neighbor, Mrs. Doyle, whose daughter was Sofia's classmate.
I told her I had urgent business out of town, might be back late.
Then I drove toward the old lighthouse by the sea.
The wind picked up, only the distant lighthouse beam sweeping circles across the black ocean.
The private cottage sat near the lighthouse base, yellow light in the windows.
I parked and walked to the door. A light push and it opened. Matteo sat in the main chair, Luca standing behind him like an iron tower. But my eyes, the moment I entered, landed on the wooden chair in the corner.
A woman was tied to it. Hair yellow and wild like dead grass.
Filthy dress. Sunken cheeks, cracked lips, skeletal thin.
If not for that trace of familiar malice and arrogance still lingering in her eyes, I'd never have recognized her as the Samantha Ashford who'd spun those lies at the engagement party.
She saw me enter. Fear flashed first, but was quickly swallowed by deeper arrogance and contempt. Then she twisted into a smile.
"Well, if it isn't Miss Rachel Kane. What's this? Using that bastard in your belly to claw your way back up?"
I didn't think. Lunged forward, raised my hand, and struck her face again and again with everything I had. The sharp crack of flesh echoed in the quiet cottage, each slap louder than the last. Her earring hung crooked.
"You dare hit me!"
Samantha finally reacted, shrieking as she tried to lunge from the chair. But before she could stand, a black-suited man pressed her shoulder down.
"I'll handle her. I guarantee she'll never appear anywhere you or Sofia might hear about her again."
I stared at Samantha's swollen, twisted face. The woman I'd hated through countless sleepless nights looked so wretched before me. But revenge brought no satisfaction. Only exhaustion seeping from my bones.
I shook my numb hand, palm burning. I looked up at Matteo.
"I'm done."
I didn't look at him again, didn't look at the woman still cursing uselessly in the corner. I walked out into the darkness. Matteo called after me to stop, but his voice was quickly swallowed by the fiercer wind from the sea.