Chapter 16
Sophie/Cara
My fingers tremble in my lap as the taxi comes to a halt by the terminal.
Your name is Bianca. Bianca Rossi.
That’s what your passport states.
That’s what the attendant must believe.
Weaving through other travelers hauling heavy luggage, I pull my tattered bag closer to my chest, feeling exactly as I did four years ago. Just like back then, I'm running for my fucking life.
While waiting at the checkpoint, I let my gaze drift to my hands. The dried blood lodged under my nails. The bruises my jacket sleeves fail to conceal.
Whenever I check the doors and the halls, I expect to see olive faces amidst a sea of paleness.
When I’m not thinking of them, I’m imagining Isaac. He didn’t let me go out of kindness. Victoria brought me to him. He’s as much an enemy now as she is— was .
Stepping out of the room with my gun drawn, he seized my arm, casting a glance at the pool of blood next to my sister’s body. I was ready for a confrontation, yet he held me back, an unsettling turmoil evident in his eyes. I shrugged him off, choosing not to explain myself.
The moment I heard her whispering into that phone, there was only one course of action.
The attendant shoots a serious look between the photo and my face. “Where are you headed?”
“New York.”
The eyes staring back at me through the sterile bathroom mirror aren’t mine. They belong to someone else. The burden of murder and escape lives within them.
Frantic confusion.
Shell-shock.
Excitement.
Fear.
It’s all there.
My hands tremble as I attempt to scrub the blood from beneath my nails, repeatedly drawn back to gaze at myself as the plane descends toward the city.
New York City. My home. My true home.
There’s a soft rap on the door. “Is everything all right?”
My voice barely registers in the air. “Be right out.”
Get it together.
I splash my face with cold water, hoping it will bring me out of perpetual fear. This is the right decision. He’ll be glad to see you. He needs to know you’re alive.
These thoughts do very little to persuade me that I’m moving in the right direction.
Shadows follow me, and I’m delivering them to his front door.
I could have told him that I was still alive and kept running as he advised.
But I need to see him. See that he’s not married.
See that he’s okay. If he wants me to leave again, I will. I would .
My stomach turns at the thought, revealing the truth I'm too afraid to confront.
That we may be different people. I know I am.
It’s always in the back of my mind.
I unlock the bolt and shove through the door, ignoring the strangers waiting in line for the restroom.
My ears ache as I sit, stiff as a board beside someone engrossed in a movie.
I place my bag in my lap, rummaging through what little I have for my wallet.
I gaze at the picture of us. Everything we’ve been through, the trials we’ve faced both alone and together, plays in my mind like the screen on the seat beside me.
The good and the bad.
The hate and the love.
The evidence of love outweighs it all and shatters me all over again.
“We’re preparing for our descent into New York…”
The roads are familiar. The past comes alive as I merge off the highway, my driving no better than when I left.
Summer in the city's outskirts brings color to the grass in the form of weed flowers spread amongst bursting oak trees and puddles of rain on either side of the street. The sunset is nearly gone, grey bulbous clouds hanging off in the distance. Silent light erupts within them, promising rain.
My hands tremble against the steering wheel as I turn onto less-trafficked roads, knowing it’s just a matter of time before I see the vast acres of the estate. The tall trees that Xavier and I used to climb as kids rush past the windows.
My heart is beating through my chest. My foot deepens and eases on the accelerator, constantly wavering in my choice.
What if he’s angry?
What if he curses me for returning despite all he sacrificed ?
I wipe the tears from my cheeks, squeezing my eyes shut as my mind runs wild.
What if he doesn’t live here anymore?
Will I go to the city, to our old apartment?
To the restaurant?
Would Courtney know where he is?
What if I find him and he’s someone else?
My weary eyes open slowly, my heart racing to a stop.
It doesn’t matter what he is… he’s yours.
He’s Xavier Marcello.
He’s the man who’s loved you all of your life.
Everything feels unchanged. The car’s headlights illuminate the landscape along the road to the estate. I urge myself to drive up to his gate and talk with his men, but instead, I swerve off in the opposite direction, shaking my head.
His men. Soldiers.
My stomach somersaults.
What the hell are you doing? Coming back here?
The rental car rolls to a stop, positioned behind the property. The gate enclosing the Marcello estate is just as imposing as I remember. Security was always heightened at night, and I doubt that’s changed, even after all these years.
My hands clutch the steering wheel tightly as I attempt to reassure myself that the men who once tormented me are unlikely to still be in this house if Xavier lives here.
I keep telling myself to exit the car and approach the front door like a normal person.
This is the home of your husband, for God’s sake.
It was also my own personal hell.
A place I wished for death in often, for months that felt like years.
Just being here, witnessing the outdoor lamps shining brightly, illuminating the beautifully landscaped yard we used to play in as children—the same yard he carried me through after enduring torture my mind could never have even imagined—I question everything.
Whether I should be doing this. Whether I'm strong enough to face this. Him. What happened.
I'm terrified.
It’s bringing out a weakness I haven’t felt in a long time.
Nevertheless, I lower my hand to remove the key from the ignition. I scan these eerily familiar surroundings, alert for any unexpected movement. Without the gun I typically carried at the compound, I feel ill-equipped, even though my rational mind assures me there's no reason for fear.
The world becomes eerily silent when I exit the car, taking in the clothes I fled Reykjavik wearing. There’s blood. Sweat. Nothing appealing about them. My hands move into my hair, releasing the braid until it tumbles down my back. It’s longer than when he last saw me, completely unkempt .
He won’t care .
Breathe. Breathe , Sophie.
Maybe it’s the year I spent learning to hide, but I find myself lurking around the gate, searching for an unnoticed way in. I don’t want anyone to know I'm back. The world thinks I'm dead. I want it to stay that way.
I just need to see him.
The old fence leading to the garage is under construction. While the mansion is enclosed by iron gates, this one is made of wire. My heart pounds as I lean down to inspect it, discovering a section that has come loose.
As I pull it up, my eyes clamp onto the building behind the house.
My blood freezes over.
As if it were yesterday, I see Xavier loading my weakened body into a vehicle not far from where I am now almost four years ago. Seeing that building means that the cell is still here.
I'm nearly sick at the thought .
Xavier . That’s what matters. His father is dead.
My heart skips a beat as I find the weak point in the wire, bending it back so I can slip through. The freshly cut grass bounces as I press against the gate, my eyes roaming frantically.
Just as I start to doubt that there may not be guards posted, I catch sight of two. They’re facing each other, sharing a cigarette. My stomach turns.
You’ve made it this far.
“Hey!”
My fists ball up as I stiffen, preparing to swing. But they aren’t calling for me. Another guard approaches the others, laughing.
Holy fuck. Dio, sii con me. Don’t fail me.
I exhale and walk the length of the gate until I can slip beyond their sight into the shrubbery. Giulia’s rose bushes are blooming just as abundantly as they did before I left. With my eyes fixed on his father’s parlor window, I smile when I notice that the light is on.
I pull myself onto the A/C unit with much more ease than I would have a year ago. The window creaks as I slide it open carefully, still undetected. I grip the panel with both hands, heaving myself through the small space, sliding down onto the hardwood floor of a painstakingly familiar room.
My God. For a moment, I'm paralyzed. My limbs forget to work. I hadn’t planned this far.
What do I do? Call out his name? Search the house?
My knees buckle as I stand, catching sight of a cluttered desk. His father always had a lit cigar on an ashtray and a stack of neatly arranged papers. Now, the work is scattered alongside drained bottles of bourbon, an accessible laptop. I hesitate to touch the chair as my nose pinpoints his scent.
“Give me a minute. I'm coming.”
His voice.
It’s him .
Heat rapidly flushes my cheeks as I drape my hair over my shoulders, nervously tucking it behind my ears.
I can hear him.
My heart soars.
My chest swells…
I’m still trying to untangle my hands from my hair when a small girl jumps through the doorway, her bright red hair bouncing around her fair face. “Daddy! Daddy, let’s go!"
I hit the ground like lightning.
“I'm coming, Iz,” Xavier says. Firm footsteps cause the floorboards to groan. I close my eyes tightly, my hand clamped over my mouth. I'm going to be found. I'm going?—
“X, are you sure about this?”
“Rosa, I'm not going. Use them.”
Rosa. Rosa is in his house. There is a child in his home, a child who calls him daddy . I shrink, cringing at the jarring rustle of papers on the desk, retreating further beneath it.
Her gentle voice is as soft as velvet. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, take them. They’ll go to waste if you don’t.”
“Daddy, come!”
“Next time, okay?”
As their voices trail off, I open my eyes to blurred vision.
This isn’t happening. This can’t be.
She said he wasn’t married. She said she lied.
The child. The little girl.
He’s had a child.
I stifle a sob, pulling myself up from the ground, rushing to the closest window. All I can think of is escaping, getting the hell out of here.
I swing my leg over the edge, too frantic to consider the guards.
“X, you forgot the parking pass for the?—”
I jerk my head towards the door, where Bo stands frozen, his eyes bulging as if he’s encountered a ghost. Shit .
“So-Sophie?—”
I ignore him as I leap from the window, landing on the air conditioning unit before hitting the cold, hard earth, sprinting toward the broken gate.
“Sophie!” Bo bellows, his familiar voice overwhelmed with urgency. Gasping, my head spins as my focus shifts to the guards who are quickly trying to understand the commotion. Panic seizes me as a man dashes in my direction, drawing a pistol that could end it all for me.
Right here, right now.
Steps away from my husband.
“Over there!”
From the house’s back entrance, Bo is racing down the steps of the terrace. “Don’t shoot! Don’t you fucking shoot !”
I slip under the gate, muffled cries escaping my throat as I race through the woods to my vehicle.
I suppress the pain I’ve kept at bay until reaching the car, flinging the door wide open.
I don’t buckle my seatbelt. I don’t check my surroundings.
I barely manage to close the door before backing up, tires screeching against the mud as Bo slithers out of the same gate I broke through, waving his arms for me to stop.
I punch the gas and merge onto the main road, struggling to stay composed. I keep blinking, pushing tears to roll down my cheeks so I can see the road ahead. My hands strike the steering wheel. “You stupid, stupid woman!”
Why did I think I could go back?
Why did I think he wouldn’t have tried to move on?
He told me to find someone, to live my life. Of course, he would too.
My tires screech loudly enough to rouse the entire neighborhood as I fail to stop the car from careening onto the sidewalk. With the ignition still running, I leap out of the rental, storming into the front entrance of the motel I bought, just in case Xavier wasn’t home .
I discard the receptionist’s greeting, taking three steps at a time, convinced I'm being followed.
I'm so used to running. It’s second nature now.
I plunge my key into the door and swing it open wide, diving for my belongings. Unzipping my worn pack, I scoop up what little I brought and dump the contents back into the bag. I haul it all over my shoulder, snatch my keys off the mattress, and turn toward the door.
I freeze instantly, finding Xavier Marcello standing under the threshold.