Chapter 15
Sophie/Cara
Stars swarm the sky this far out of Reykjavík, millions of sparkling balls of fire. I’ve been lying here for hours, tucked in the tall grass, letting the natural noises of the world drown out the unsettled feeling I’ve had in my chest for weeks.
Months even.
Spring peepers are crooning against the surface of a pond nearby. The summer breeze rattles branches of the birch tree a few feet away as sheepdogs bark continuously in the distance.
Winter has come and gone.
My body. It stands resilient, a testament to the effort and challenges I’ve faced. Each of my scars tells a story. Of strength. Of perseverance.
When I’m threatened, my instinct is immediate and decisive. My muscles respond before my mind can catch up. While panic used to send me into flight, scrambling for an escape, I have no need to run now.
It feels good to lie here, knowing I’m different from who I was when I stepped off that plane. I tilt my head to the side, watching my sister sleep.
Only in moments like this do I fully let my guard down .
She’s by my side. A year has passed, and she’s still here. I spent months watching, waiting for betrayal. Even now, it’s difficult to accept that Victoria could be here for me despite her giving me no reason to doubt it.
It’s a deeper-rooted problem that fuels such thoughts—an enduring sense of unworthiness I can’t shake.
She should have run for the hills by now, but I'm glad she hasn’t.
A lingering trail of shimmer scales the atmosphere, falling behind the tree line. When my eyes draw closed, my heart is unusually steady.
But my wish is always the same.
Keep him safe.
“I want to go back.”
Abandoning my prayers, my eyes ease apart to find my sister watching me. “To Chicago?”
I turn to her, unsettled by how much I want her to stay.
She nods. “My life is there. There are things I need to do, settle. I took off when I heard about you… I’ve stayed longer than I planned to.”
“That’s my fault.”
She shakes her head. “No, it was my choice.”
I struggle, grasping at straws. “When? Will you leave right away?”
“Not right away. I’m still trying to figure things out. Isaac will find a way to get me out without putting you at risk. You should continue to lie low.” She laughs, flipping some of her springy curls. “Sometimes, I still can’t believe it.”
“Believe what?”
“How kickass you’ve gotten. It’s all Isaac ever talks about… You know that man is crazy about you, right?”
I’ve known for a while.
He’s gotten used to me denying him .
Victoria’s brows tug together as she rolls to face me. “You should let him in.”
“We’ve talked about this.”
“No, not really. I’ve held back.”
As her hand slips into mine on the ground, my stomach knots, a sudden ball of impending doom. Don’t . Don’t say it. “Vickie…”
“He’s married, Sophie… Xavier is married.”
The pin drops.
The silence between us expands.
As quickly as my ears have taken her words in, they want to expel them. I'm flat on my back in a rush, eyes trapped on the stars. My chest is crashing, a paralyzing whirlwind. “No, he’s not.”
“He is.”
I can’t speak.
I can only gape at the heavens, trying to reason. For years, I’ve been too scared to know the truth.
Clearly, I was right to be.
My lips quiver. “To who?”
“Her name is Rosa Barbieri.”
That name slams into my gut like a knife.
In an instant, I’m visualizing vibrant red hair spread across his chest, her slender arms wrapped around his waist, and I’m gasping, pulling myself out of the serene scene I was in.
I’m on my feet, seconds from imploding on myself like a dying star, a consuming black hole running out of fuel to live.
Victoria winces, delivering another blow. “Arturo is dead. He’s been dead for years.”
Dead.
Arturo is dead.
His father is dead.
The man who absolutely shattered me is dead.
I can’t even rejoice. Thoughts scatter too fast .
Arturo is dead. A Boss… is dead.
Confusion slips into horror, realizing what she’s saying. What she’s trying to tell me. She waits for me to piece it all together.
“Xavier has taken over his position,” I state.
It’s not a question.
It’s the only answer that makes sense here… because surely, if Arturo were dead, he would have come. If he were free to, he wouldn’t have wasted a moment.
My husband would have come for me.
“He owns everything,” she says. “He’s the most powerful man in New York. He integrated Vito’s and Arturo’s companies years ago, acquired control over new districts. The other families? They dabble in side hustles. Marcello operates on a different level. He broke the scale.”
“I told Bo where I was. I told him, and he said if he could, he would tell him…”
He wouldn’t marry… not unless he had to.
I know him.
I know?—
I turn, hiding my face from her as it begins to crumble. It doesn’t happen all at once. My wincing eyes wander in fear first. My nostrils flare as I try to catch my breath. My lips slacken, quivering. Fuck . I sink to my knees, hearing her stand and step back to give me space.
She should have never told me. I could have lived without knowing. He was supposed to be waiting—waiting as I’ve been waiting for him.
Damn what we said. He is mine .
He was always supposed to be mine.
Images of them knock the breath from my lungs.
“No,” I choke out, shaking my head.
It doesn’t matter what else she’s said. That he’s dangerous, that he’s in the exact position he was trying to escape.
In this moment, I could handle it all. I could accept in an instant that he found a way to survive in a harsh world.
It may not have been what we hoped for. I certainly haven’t lived the life he envisioned for me.
I could forgive every sin he’s committed without hesitation.
Before, when I allowed my mind to sink so low, I’d tell myself that he deserves to find happiness wherever he can.
He deserves it all—a wife, children, and a warm home to sleep in at night.
I meant it. But now, as I contemplate that he’s actually done it, that he’s left me behind, I can only scream into the void, letting the wind carry my pain.
Morning light seeps into the vaulted ceilings of the warehouse, where most are still sleeping. Victoria left sometime in the night. I never saw her leave, and I didn’t care to look. She knew I needed time.
Something happened to me on the walk here.
As I compelled my feet to move, step by step, a numbness coursed through my veins. It was so familiar that it felt comforting. I can’t feel this. I wish I could rewind time and tell Victoria that I never wanted to know about Xavier Marcello.
It hurts too much.
This is better.
Victoria must have told Isaac what happened because he’s returned after a week abroad, waiting on the stairs, a cup of coffee in his hands.
He extends it to me, features ripe with concern.
When I offer him my empty eyes, aware that they hold no more pain, no more anger, no more anything, I’m not surprised his frown deepens.
I sip the drink, nodding while surveying the compound—this cold shell of a place I wish to disappear into.
“Tell me what you need, Cara. ”
“I need to continue this.”
He blinks, eventually nodding. “Okay.”
“Now.”
“Now?”
I set down the cup, walking off, not bothering to see if he follows.
My labored gasps resonate through the desolate warehouse.
“ Quit stalling .”
Pressed to a wall, concealing myself behind a sharp corner, I can hardly hear Isaac’s cool reproach over my thrumming pulse. My hands are quaking before me, veins bulging through my pale skin from the strain of the fight.
A year in this place has had to have been for something.
All of these goddamn years have to be for something.
My legs protest as I straighten off the wall, storming back into the harsh white light.
A year ago, I would have sought refuge in dark corners. I would’ve begged for help, knowing my fragile bones couldn’t bear the weight of violence. I may not be as strong as my mentor physically, but when his fist comes, I can catch it.
Deflect it.
Anticipate his next move.
Isaac matches my breathlessness, showing a slight sense of pride as I lunge at him, swinging with all my might. He grabs my wrist, twisting it just as I swing once more, targeting his throat. In contrast to Xavier, this man will actually hit me, and it will hurt.
The abandoned building we’re using is an endless maze of unfinished rooms and corridors, a place without boundaries.
The only sound comes from our bodies colliding, echoing off of the bare walls.
My wrist throbs as I grab his arm, unable to fully block his force.
My knees betray me, and I feel the coolness of the floor, having just enough time to look up before he strikes again.
My mind races, muddled and confused. I wince, holding up my hands in surrender.
As it always does, his fist unclenches before me.
I gasp, offering him meek, yielding eyes from the floor and that submission unravels him enough to focus on how my body is trembling, his features gradually taking on emotion. “Cara.”
I pant heavily, letting him touch my cheek to inspect the damage he’s left. My eyes never leave his face, hell-bent on one thing.
Besting him… by any means necessary.
His thumb gently grazes the swelling, parched eyes darting between my eyes and lips like a lost soul stranded in an endless desert, just now finding deliverance. I imagine he’s wondering if I'm finally accepting him, weak enough to finally give in.
“Cara, I may have been too rough?—”
All of my strength builds in my forearm before I ram my fist into his gut. His lack of anticipation helps as I slip out from under him, unwilling to fail. Fail him. Fail Xavier and everything he has done to keep me alive.
As Isaac clamors for air, I dash beneath the glaring lights, seeking a way to win. Everything here is at my disposal, but there’s not much.
I can’t think. There’s no time. I just do .
I spot the air vent and spring to rip the metal off its hinges.
He’ll hear.