Chapter 36
Katarina
I lie in bed awake for the next two hours, hoping sleep will come. But the pit in my stomach only grows bigger and deeper from a feeling of impending doom.
My palms and feet are sweaty, and my thoughts are racing.
I can’t breathe.
Fuck.
The panic attacks are back.
It started after the car accident. I managed to hide it for a long time until Mateo came home one day and found me frozen in fear in the living room.
He put me in therapy despite my protests, but nothing worked.
Not even the medication helped. But no one knew that, of course.
I was too good an actor. I pretended everything was great and soldiered through every attack since.
I get up from the bed in an attempt to calm myself down.
I pace the tiny room, my sweaty feet restless on the cold terracotta tiles. I exhale and reach for the platinum cuff on my wrist. I try to wiggle my hand through the cuff, but it’s impossible.
Damiano wasn’t kidding when he said only he can remove it.
A dizzying mix of anger and hurt washes over my senses, and my breathing turns to shallow gasps. Suddenly, I’m starved for air. I put a hand on the wall to steady myself and press a fist to my chest, trying not to drown.
“Shit,” I whimper.
When my vision started to blur, I knew I needed help.
I walk towards the door, my legs shaking, and reach for the doorknob.
Then I hear a low murmur from the main room that stops me dead. The voice pierces the ringing in my ear like a splash of cold water. My cold hand pauses on the iron, and my breathing slows a little, and I’m finally able to catch up to my heart’s wild beating.
“Sì, la tengo qui,” Julian murmurs, and I freeze.
I never knew he spoke Italian.
His tone is stripped of his typical warmth as he tells the person on the phone to keep it there.
Then there’s a pause. I can hear the faint, angry buzz of a man’s voice on the other end.
“Non capisci?” Julian hisses. Don’t you understand? Julian’s tone turns harsher.
He proceeds to tell the man that Damiano already knows everything—that he found out that I’m a Castiglione. He says Damiano has already sent his men to scour every town in Sicily. That was all my basic grasp of the Italian language could understand.
I pull back, my heart sinking.
Castiglione?
“Lei è mia”, Julian snaps. She is mine.
My pulse pounds in my ears.
He continues to argue with the person on the other line, his voice dropping to a low growl, clearly fuming.
“I didn’t spend the last year following her only to lose her to a Cotrini.” He says, his boots scruffing the tiles outside as he paces the room.
My hands start shaking with anger and confusion.
Before I knew what I was doing, I wrench the door open and see Julian standing by the table, the phone pressed to his ear.
When the door hinges creak, he turns to me. The anger in his face vanishes as soon as he sees me. He says something quick into the phone and shoves it into his pocket.
“Did I wake you?” he asks, his voice sliding effortlessly into his usual warmth.
“Who were you talking to?” I ask, my voice trembling.
His eyes turn cold, and his lips form into a tight line. I take a few steps until I’m in front of him, my face rigid with anger. Still heaving from the halted panic attack.
“?Y por qué hablas italiano? Who was that, Julian?”
He lets out a slow breath. The colors in his face fade as he realizes I heard everything.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he whispers. “I never wanted to tell you like this. I wanted us to be safe in Mexico first.” His right hand reaches for my face, but I dodge.
“Tell me what?”
He inhales sharply, rubbing his jaw.
“Tell me what, Julian?!” I yell.
“That man on the phone, Flavio. He’s your cousin.”
Cousin? What the fuck is he saying?
“I don’t have cousins, Julian,” I say matter-of-factly as bile rises in my throat.
His eyelids snap shut, a brief, tight tremor in his jaw before he tilts his head back. He stares at the ceiling as if the silence up there is the only thing keeping him from losing control.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this. But, you aren’t who you think you are.”
I blink at him.
“Your name is not Katarina,” Julian says, his eyes glistening. “You are a Castiglione. Daughter of Don Castiglione. One of the five Dons in the La Famiglia. Damiano’s biggest enemy.”
My mouth goes dry as I hear the words spill out of his mouth. Nothing makes sense, but everything felt like a gut punch.
“What do you mean?” I warn.
“Your cousin sent me to look after you and your brother until it was time to bring you back to Italy.”
Silence.
“You were a mole?” I say, my voice ragged, sweat pricks my forehead. His eyes snap at me with a pained look.
“I’m trying to derail your cousin so I can get you out of Italy. I’m not letting them get to you. I know what this life’s like, Kat. I grew up in it.”
“Oh my god,” I step back and walk towards the door, but he grabs my arm.
“Kat, listen,” he turns me around to face him before leaning in, his brown eyes glazed with an intensity he has never shown before, “I promised myself I’d never let you end up like the rest of them.” His voice cracks for a second; it doesn’t sound rehearsed.
“He thinks I’m bringing you to him, but I have a plan. We will take a different route once we’re in the ocean. He’ll never find us.” He rambles, but his eyes are wild, almost desperate.
“Get away from me,” I warn.
“You think I haven’t been torn up about this? Every night, knowing I would have to choose between you and everything I swore to your family… They saved me once, Kat. I owe them. But—.”
“But what?! What other lies have you been spewing, huh?” I shove his chest, my voice booming inside the cabin. He stays planted firmly on the ground, looking down at me as I lose it.
“You mean everything to me, Kat,” he pleads. “I love you more than my own life.”
I laugh hysterically.
“Liar!” I press a finger on his chest. “You think I’ll believe anything you say after all this?!”
“You don’t understand. Your family, they’re just as dangerous as Damiano’s, if not more. I will die before they get their hands on you, Kat.”
“Shut up! My family is dead! Who are you working for?” I scream until my throat hurts.
“I’m telling you the truth! When Damiano found out who you really are. I knew it was over. He hates your father, Kat. Your father was the one who killed his mother. You were gonna get caught in that crossfire!”
Your father killed his mother.
His words are clear. I heard each and every one of them, but they don’t register.
Until Damiano’s words come back to me.
She has his blood in her veins… She’s my revenge now…
“No,” I take a step back, frantically shaking my head. I turn away and walk towards the door, but Julian walks in front of me.
“Please, Kat, you have to trust me. You’re going to end up dead if you don’t. Let me save you!” He pleads, his words tasting like poison. I sidestep and try to run past him, but he catches me easily and pins me against the wall.
“Let me go!!!” I shout, trying to get out of his grasp, but it’s hopeless. He’s too strong.
“Forget Nicolo, Kat. Damiano is going to kill you himself now that he knows who you really are. And your own family, they’re going to use you as a pawn. So come with me to Mexico, we can have a life there together!”
“Stop! Please let me go!” I cry and yell as his grip becomes suffocating.
“I love you, Kat. You have to believe me!” He whispers in my ear in pure desperation.
“No! Stop! Let me go, Julian! Please!” I plead.
He doesn’t listen. He doesn’t even seem to hear me. He pushes me up against the wall and whispers in my ear how much he loves me, again and again, until my skin begins to crawl.
And that’s when he starts to kiss my neck.
For a moment, I lose my voice in shock. I can’t believe what’s happening. Then he forces my head to face him and forces his lips on mine. I scream, pushing and pleading for him to stop.
He doesn’t.
He keeps on touching me and kissing me, eyes glazed, as if the man I knew is no longer inside.
“Please, Julian, please stop!” I sob.
I close my eyes, petrified of what’s to come, until I remember one tactic Mateo taught me.
I go limp, my muscles turning to water, and drop to the floor. I see the flash of concern—or maybe triumph—in his eyes as he watches me collapse.
He thinks I’ve finally broken.
He doesn’t see my hand reaching for the iron lamp as he leans to reach for me.
When he’s close enough, I don’t hesitate. I swing. The metal hits the side of his head with a sickening crack.
He stumbles back, blood oozing from his temple. His apologetic face vanishes, replaced by a terrifying fury.
“Cazzo!” he hisses.
I sprint past him and reach the front door.
But it’s bolted shut.
No!
When I turn around, he lunges at me.
He draws his handgun from his holster and swings.
It hits me above the ear.
Pain explodes on the side of my head, and I fall to the floor.
As the tiles rise to meet me, the darkness rushes in and swallows everything.