Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Olivia
When night fell, Sophie showed up at my door with a pillow tucked under her arm and that excited smile on her face—the same one she'd worn when we were teenagers.
"Please, Oli, just like old times," she begged, eyes sparkling. "Ella's coming too. How long has it been since we had a girls' night?"
Looking at that radiant happiness on her face, I couldn't say no. It was a kind of happiness I'd never really had—pure, uncomplicated joy. Even in the best moments with Ezio, I'd always carried this wariness, this unease I couldn't shake.
"Of course," I stepped aside to let her in. "Just like old times."
Ella arrived soon after with wine and snacks. We sat cross-legged on the bed in a circle, Leo already asleep in the next room. For a moment, everything in the manor—Ezio, Sebastian, all those lurking dangers—felt far away.
"So," Sophie poured three glasses, her cheeks flushed, "Mark wants to take me to the Maldives for our honeymoon."
"What?" Ella nearly spilled her wine. "Oh my God, Sophie!"
I looked at the ring glittering on her left hand, genuine joy rising in my chest. "I'm happy for you. Really."
"Thank you." Sophie squeezed my hand, tears gleaming in her eyes. "I know this might be complicated for you, but Oli, I've never been this sure about anything. He makes me feel whole."
"You should feel sure," I said sincerely. "You deserve all of it."
Ella raised her glass. "To Sophie. To love."
We clinked glasses, the wine sliding down with a bitter warmth. After a moment of silence, Sophie spoke carefully. "Oli, I've been wanting to ask... about Sebastian. Mark told me some things."
My fingers tightened around the glass. "What things?"
"He said Sebastian is actually... Ezio's cousin. Part of the family." Sophie's voice grew more cautious. "Did you know?"
The air in the room seemed to freeze. Ella stared at me in shock.
"I found out today," I heard my own voice, unnaturally calm despite the turmoil inside. "Ezio told me himself."
"Jesus," Ella muttered. "You must have lost it."
"I managed," I said. "Just felt... lied to, you know?"
I'd always thought Sebastian was clean. The kind of guy who'd drink coffee with me in that small French town, fix my pipes, teach Leo to ride a bike—just a normal friend. He never asked about my past, never pressured me, always kept the perfect distance.
But he'd known about Ezio. He'd always known.
These five years he'd been beside me—was it a coincidence, or was it purpose?
Sophie wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "These mob men," she said quietly, but with an edge I'd never heard before, "not a single good one among them. Lies and manipulation—that's their nature."
"Exactly," Ella said bitterly. "They treat women like pawns, like property. Oli, you have to get out of here, the sooner the better."
"I will," I said, my voice resolute. "Two more months, once everything's settled, Leo and I are gone."
But as soon as the words left my mouth, an image flashed unbidden—the storage room, Ezio pressing me against the wall, his hot breath on my neck, his hands moving over my body, igniting desires I'd never known existed.
I remembered how I'd responded to him, how I'd lost all reason under his touch, how I'd almost desperately wanted more.
My face burned instantly, heart racing. The physical reaction filled me with deep unease, even shame. I should hate him, should be disgusted by him, but my body remembered that pleasure, that trembling when he'd completely possessed me.
"Oli?" Sophie looked at me with concern. "You okay? Your face is so red."
"I'm fine," I took a large gulp of wine. "Just the alcohol hitting."
The room went quiet for a while. Outside the window, lights flickered on the glass. A plane flew overhead in the distance, its red navigation lights blinking in the night sky before disappearing.
Sophie readjusted her position, hugging her pillow tighter. "Speaking of Ezio... Oli, I want to ask you something."
My heart inexplicably quickened. "What?"
"What's really going on between you two?" She looked directly into my eyes. "These past few days, I keep seeing him—in the garden, in the hallways, sometimes just standing there, like he's waiting for someone."
Ella nodded too. "I noticed it too. And... I don't know if it's just me, but the way he looks at you..." She paused. "It's complicated."
"The way a man looks at a woman he wants to possess," Sophie said bluntly.
Silence fell again. I could feel their eyes on me, scrutinizing, waiting.
"It's nothing," I finally said, my voice not as steady as I'd hoped. "We ended a long time ago."
"Did you?" Sophie asked softly. "At the party today, I saw you two—"
"What did you see?" My voice turned sharp.
"I saw him standing close to you," Sophie said, her tone gentle but insistent. "Closer than two people whose relationship ended long ago. And you... Oli, you looked like you were about to cry, but at the same time..."
"What?"
"Like you were forcing yourself to stay away from him," she finished, worry flickering in her eyes. "Oli, do you still love him?"
"No," I answered immediately, too quickly—so quick even I didn't believe it. "I don't love him. How could I still love him? He ruined my life, he lied to me, he's a gangster—"
"But that's not what I asked," Sophie interrupted. "I asked about your feelings, not your logic."
I couldn't answer. Because if I was honest with myself, the answer would terrify me.
"Listen," Ella took my hand. "We're not judging you. Feelings—they've never been something reason can control. But Oli, you have to understand what being with a man like that means."
"I know," I said. "Of course I know. That's why I'm leaving."
"Then leave quickly," Sophie said, her voice pleading. "Before you change your mind. Before he makes it impossible for you to leave."
But I knew those words came too late. Because in some way, he'd already done it.
That night ended late, but I tossed and turned sleepless. Moonlight spilled across the sheets. I stared at the ceiling, replaying those fragments in my mind—Ezio's hands, his deep voice, the possessiveness in his eyes. And my own response, that almost desperate desire.
I had to leave. Not just for Leo, but for myself.
The next day, the weather in New York was decent. Sunlight baked the pavement, tree shadows swaying on the sidewalk.
I went to pick up Leo.
He came running out, little backpack bouncing on his back. When he saw me, he flew into my arms. "Mommy! I drew a picture today!"
"What did you draw?"
"Us," he dug a crumpled paper from his backpack and held it up. "See, this is you, this is me, this is a giraffe, and this one—" he pointed to a circle on the right, "this is Juliet."
The circle was lopsided but boldly colored in purple and gold.
"That's wonderful, baby," I said. "Let's go home."
I took his hand and headed toward the parking lot. The afternoon sun felt good, warm. Leo walked along holding his picture up to the wind, watching it flutter, finding it hilarious.
I got him in the car, buckled him in, walked around to the driver's seat.
Started the engine, pulled onto the main road.
Leo hummed that French nursery rhyme in the back seat, terribly off-key.
No idea who he got that from. I don't sing off-key.
Traffic was light. I wasn't driving fast. At a red light, I glanced at Leo in the rearview mirror. He had the picture pressed against his lap, tracing the lines with his finger, still humming.
Green light. I started moving again.
Then I saw the car in the rearview mirror.
Black. No plates. Keeping a steady distance. It had been following for two blocks now.
My fingers tightened on the wheel.
Maybe a coincidence.
I turned at the next intersection.
The car turned too.
Shit.
Goddamn it.
"Leo," I kept my voice calm. "Ready for something?"
"What?"
"A game with Mommy. Keep your seatbelt tight, hold on to the handle. We're going to play an exciting racing game. You're brave, right, baby?"
He nodded excitedly, gripping the handle by his seat tight. "Yes! What's the prize?"
"Mommy will make your favorite chocolate pie." Cold sweat began forming. "Don't panic, stay calm, protect yourself, baby."
"I want two!" Leo shouted excitedly.
"If you're good."
I pressed the gas, picking up speed, shooting through a yellow light.
In the rearview mirror, the black car followed, closing the distance.
My heart started racing.
"Mommy," Leo said from the back, "I'm brave!"
"Keep going," I said. "Good. Don't let go."
I floored it, turning onto a narrower road. Green belts on both sides. Up ahead, a truck was making a U-turn, blocking half the road. I glanced in the rearview—the black car had followed me in.
The truck ahead hadn't cleared yet. I tapped the brakes.
In that second, the black car's window rolled down a crack.
Before my brain could process it, the first gunshot exploded.
"Leo!!"
I don't know what I was thinking. Instinct made me slam the gas pedal. The car lurched forward, squeezing through the gap between the truck and the green belt—barely half a car width. Metal scraped metal with a piercing screech.
Leo's panicked crying came from the back seat. "Mommy!"
"Stay calm! The game just got harder! Hide behind your seat! Be good! Don't get up!" I screamed, tears instantly blurring my vision, but I didn't dare blink, eyes locked on the road ahead.
Two more shots.
The rear windshield cracked. Something whipped past my ear. I felt the air move. My blood ran cold.
"No, no, no..." I muttered, tears streaming down my face.
"Mommy, I'm scared..."
"Leo, close your eyes, hold tight, don't move!"
My voice shook, but I had no time to think about it.
The steering wheel vibrated violently in my hands.
I gripped it hard, eyes on the road. A curve ahead.
I didn't slow down, just swung into it. The tires screamed against the pavement, the car tilting to one side, nearly sliding out. I wrenched the wheel, pulling it back.