29. Samantha
SAMANTHA
Seeing Dante is hard. Not just because I’m in love with him and I shouldn’t be, but mostly because he looks awful.
He’s losing weight. Looks like he hasn’t slept in days. His eyes are still hollow and raw at the same time, and it hurts to look at him. I try to keep my face blank every time our eyes meet.
I’m not sure if it’s working, because I feel about as bad as he looks. I threw up about four times this morning, just remembering the night before. What the doctor said about avoiding stress keeps coming back to me.
I wonder if something’s wrong. If I should go back to the doctor. I’d definitely have to sneak out.
I’m probably just under too much stress, with Dante here. I almost wish Ricci would either make a move or leave it be, so that I could stop being watched like a hawk.
I eat bacon in my room. Meat is about the only thing I’ve been able to keep down.
When I’m finished, I wash my hands and then walk back out into the hallway, still hungry. I’m about to go down the stairs when my name is called.
“Sam? Can you come in here for a minute?” Papa’s calling from his office. The door is slightly ajar.
My breath catches. Does he know something? Is he suspicious after what happened last night? Is he going to ask me about Dante? I slowly walk in, shutting the door behind me. I sit down in the chair across from his desk.
Papa looks serious. Pale. Fuck. “Papa—” I start, and then he just blurts it out.
“I’m seeing someone.”
The words die in my throat.
“You’re…. Wh-what?” I stutter.
“Seeing someone.” He leans forward. “Cara mia, I don’t want you to be upset.”
“Upset?” I’m confused, because here I thought he was about to ask me about Dante.
“I know after your mother, it’s hard to think of someone replacing her.”
“No one can replace her.” My chest feels heavy, suddenly, as I realize what Papa’s trying to tell me.
“Of course not,” he says quickly, reaching for my hand. I put it on the desk, let him take it. “But things are getting serious, and I wanted you to know about it.”
“You’re finally getting serious with someone?”
He nods, his brow furrowed. He squeezes my hand.
“It’s about time, Papa,” I breathe out in a laugh, and the shock on his face is palpable.
“You’re not upset?”
“That you’re finally finding someone after years? Of course not. I want you to be happy.”
“That’s all I want for you, too, cara mia. And if Ethan Moretti makes you happy, I’ll hand him to you on a silver platter.”
I chuckle. “I don’t think you can give me what I want this time, Papa.” There’s a tinge of bitterness to my words, but he doesn’t catch on.
“I’ll give you the moon.”
“What if I want all the stars?”
“Those, too.” He beams at me. “I want you to meet her.”
“What’s her name?”
“Olivia. Olivia Reynolds.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Not Italian?”
“Don’t hold that against her,” Papa jokes.
“How old is she?”
“My age. Couple years younger.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. Thank God. Of course, I of all people can’t judge age-gap relationships, but I can’t imagine a girl my age moving into the mansion with Papa. “I’d love to meet her.”
He smiles even wider. “I’ll invite her to dinner this weekend. Maybe Cecilia can come, too.”
“Cecilia?” I tilt my head, confused.
“Oh, she’s Olivia’s best friend. We’re going on a double date tonight.”
My mouth goes dry. “With who?”
“With Dante.”
Shock settles over me.
He’s going on a fucking date?
After last night?
After he nearly killed my best friend? “I didn’t know Dante dated.”
“He doesn’t. I think he’s mostly doing me a favor, but he needs to let loose.”
My throat hurts as I swallow. “Yeah.”
“He didn’t mean it, you know. With Reese. He feels like shit about it.”
I tilt my chin up. “He should.”
“It was a misunderstanding. You should forgive him.”
“I do forgive him,” I say quietly. I forgave him hours after it happened, after I found out Reese was going to be okay. But it doesn’t mean I forget.
He sits back in his seat, still smiling. “Good. Then this weekend, I’ll invite over Olivia for dinner. Maybe just her, the first time.”
Thank God. I don’t think I can meet my new potential stepmother and the new woman Dante’s dating at the same time. I might implode.
“Ricardo will be here to watch over you tonight. He should be arriving any minute.”
I nod, swallowing hard again around the rock in my throat. “I’m happy for you, Papa. Really.”
“It doesn’t mean I’ll forget about your mother.” He sounds desperate for me to believe him.
“I know that, Papa. You’ll never forget her.”
“Never,” he says fiercely, his eyes growing wet.
Tears burn at the backs of my own eyes. I think of how much easier all this would be if Mama were still here.
I know I could tell her about Dante, about the baby… everything. She would have helped me figure it all out.
“Have fun tonight.” I stand up, not wanting to cry in front of him. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.
“Sam—”
“I’m okay,” I say, wiping a hand across my face and offering him a smile. “Really.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.” I draw in a shaking breath. “Just got to thinking about her and well…. You know.”
“I know,” he says, laughing and wiping at his own eyes.
“Let me know how it goes tomorrow, okay?”
“Will do. And cara mia?”
I turn at the door. “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Papa.”
I escape into my room before the tears come. I’m not sure if they’re for Mama or myself.
Or maybe I’m just hormonal.
I hole up in my room for the rest of the day, crying on and off. I call Reese after a while to check on him, but he doesn’t answer.
Vaughn must be there.
She’d stayed with him the night before.
He’d texted me all ecstatic about it.
Maybe this is finally the push she needs to come clean to her father. But then again… Luciano isn’t the father that Papa is.
I feel for her. I feel for Reese.
I doze off, lying in bed and watching some mindless adult cartoon, and Papa’s too-loud voice alerts me to the fact that they’re back.
I rush to the top of the stairs, crouching to hide behind the railing so they can’t see me. Papa’s leaning heavily against Dante.
“I told you not to order that sixth tequila sunrise,” Dante says flatly.
“Fuck you, it was a tequila sunset. Besides, you didn’t drink at all.”
“No, I didn’t. You did all the drinking for me.”
They head up the stairs and I slip back to my room, hiding behind the door, my heart pounding. At least he didn’t bring her home. That’s a good sign, right?
“Cecilia thinks you’re handsome. Olivia told me.”
My heart flutters. Dante just chuckles, taking Papa toward his room.
“Didn’t she look pretty?”
“Cecilia? Gorgeous.”
I swallow hard.
He sounds… honest.
Great.
Now she’s gorgeous.
I imagine what she must look like. Tall. Statuesque. Probably not Italian, since Olivia isn’t. Maybe she’s a blonde with big blue eyes. Completely unlike me.
“Olivia,” Papa breathes. “That dress…”
“Yeah, yeah. She’s beautiful, too.”
“Cecilia liked you a lot.”
“Liked her, too.” That sounds honest, too, and my stomach rolls. I barely make it to the bathroom before I’m retching up the bacon I ate this morning.
I head back to my slightly open door when I’m done, peering out, hoping to see Dante.
I don’t. He’s gone back to his room. I slowly shut my door, pacing back and forth.
I have to go to him. There’s no other option. I’ll go crazy if I don’t find out exactly how it went. If he touched her. If he kissed her.
I walk out into the hallway.
I glance downstairs. Ricardo’s pacing around the living room, on the phone. “Tonight? I don’t think—” He stops talking. “Alright.” He hangs up and sits down on the edge of the couch.
I frown, peering down at him. If I was smart, I’d go talk to him. Distract myself from Dante and Cecilia.
Even her name is fancy.
But I can’t stop myself. I lift my hand to knock softly on Dante’s door.
Then the beep of the intercom at the gate surprises me. I drop my hand and turn around. Ricardo’s coming up the stairs, a blank expression on his face.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“Ricardo, what—”
He cuts me off, clapping a hand over my mouth and dragging me down the stairs. I’m too shocked to try and scream or fight. He drags me into the kitchen and when I try to scream again, he slaps duct tape over my mouth painfully.
I scream against the tape, the sound muffled, as he zipties my hands behind me, wrestling me to the floor and tying my ankles, too. I lie on the floor, unable to move, my eyes darting around wildly. “It’ll be over soon,” he promises, something empty in his dark eyes.
I work my jaw against the tape, struggling to get it off. Ricardo heads out of the kitchen. I can’t see what he’s doing. I squeeze my eyes shut.
Dante, please notice something is wrong. Please go looking for me.