CHAPTER 3
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ARIANA'S POV
My head ached as I sat on the cold bathroom floor, knees pulled tight to my chest, arms wrapped around them. Every twitch of my body burned from the torture Nicola had put me through last night. The memories clawed back all at once, twisting my stomach until I ran to the sink and threw up.
When I was done, I stumbled back into the room where Nicola was still asleep. I didn’t want to lie beside him again—I needed air. I turned toward the balcony and quietly opened the door. I already knew where the keys were; I’d seen him hide them.
But even knowing that, I couldn’t leave yet. I couldn’t go without my mother. If I escaped, she was coming with me.
I stepped onto the balcony, looked up at the dark sky, and began counting the stars.
My fingers slipped into my pocket and pulled out a small, worn piece of paper.
I unfolded it, throat tightening as my eyes met the picture of Alessandro.
A tear slid down my cheek, landing on the page like always.
If only he were here—I wouldn’t be living this hell.
“Why are you awake so early?”
His voice shattered the quiet. I gasped, clutching the picture and shoving it back into my pocket before turning. He stood there rubbing his eyes, groggy. I swallowed hard, trembling under his gaze.
“I needed fresh air... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” I started, bracing for a slap or a shout. But nothing came. Instead, Nicola stepped closer.
“Come here,” he murmured, sitting on the swinging chair and patting the seat beside him. His tone was unusually calm. That made it worse. I obeyed, afraid of provoking him.
“Ariana,” he said—his voice firm, the softness gone.
I sat beside him, keeping my shoulders tense and my body distant. He took my hand and stroked it gently before pressing a kiss to my skin.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
He said that often. But his words didn’t stir the warmth they once did when Alessandro said them. Back then, it meant something. Now, it hollowed me out. I felt nothing but isolation. The only person I saw, every hour of every day, was Nicola—and I was sick of him.
“What are you thinking, detka?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “Are you okay?”
“Y-Yes... I’m fine,” I said quickly. He studied me, brows raised.
Silence stretched between us, rare and fragile.
I liked it. With Nicola, silence never lasted long—either he’d yell, strike, or demand I speak.
I turned my eyes back to the stars, counting again, calming myself before his mood shifted.
One minute he’d touch my skin like I was glass; the next, he’d tear it open.
“Ariana, I’ve been thinking,” he said suddenly. “Since our wedding is coming soon... how about we go shopping?”
My heart froze. Shopping? That word barely felt real in his mouth. For a second, the shock lit something like hope in me. A smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. It had been years since he’d made me smile. And I hated that it still felt good, even knowing it wouldn’t last.
“I... Nicola... are you sure?” I asked, trying to read his face. He looked soft, kind even—an expression I hadn’t seen in five years.
“Yes,” he said simply, and leaned in to kiss me. I jerked back on instinct. He frowned.
“What’s the matter? I thought I told you never to refuse me.”
“N-no, Nicola! I-I’m just... trying to wrap my head around the fact that I can go shopping,” I stammered. “What are we shopping for?”
“For our wedding,” he said with a smile.
And just like that, the fleeting warmth died. The air in my chest collapsed. Every ounce of hope I felt vanished as dread crawled up my spine.
After D’Angelo announced the wedding would happen next month, I hadn’t slept properly since. Every night, I thought about running. But if I did—if I left—my mother would suffer for it. I couldn’t let that happen.
“W-When?” I managed to ask, my throat dry.
“Soon,” he said. “In the meantime, we should sleep. Come on.”
He stood, took my hand, and pulled me back inside. I stumbled as he pushed me onto the bed. My heart raced. He stared down at me with that familiar, cold glare, then circled to his side of the bed. I exhaled slowly, praying he’d just fall asleep.
“Spokoynoy nochi, sladkiy malysh,” he whispered, burying his face in my hair.
I lay still, forcing my muscles to relax. Relief washed over me when I heard his breathing slow. For once, I could rest—just for the night.
.
***
"“ARIANA?”
I turned and saw Mom in the doorway with a plate of food. I dropped the things I’d been holding on the bed and faced her. My lips cracked.
“Mom...” I croaked.
She closed the door behind her, set the plate down, and wrapped me in an embrace. My throat felt like it might close from holding everything in. I wrapped my arms around her and started to sob into her shoulder. She was my rock — since Alessandro left, she’d been the only thing keeping me going.
“Mom, I can’t do this. I don’t want to marry him,” I cried into her.
“I know, cara. I know.” She pulled me back, wiped my tears, cupped my cheeks. “You are not going to marry him, do you hear me?” Her eyes were bloodshot. I blinked and searched her face.
“What... what do you mean?” I sniffled.
“Run away, Ariana.” Her words landed like a punch and my stomach dropped. I shook my head, refusing.
“No. No, Ariana. You have got to listen to me. It’s the best thing to do right now.”
“And leave you here? No. I — I can’t leave you. That’s not going to happen.” I gripped her hand tight.
“Bambino,” Mom murmured, cupping my face with trembling hands.
Her voice cracked and tears leaked down her cheeks.
“Il mio amore, listen. You have got to understand there’s no way out for you if you stay.
If you don’t run, you’ll end up marrying him.
I’m going to help you escape before the wedding.
” She fiddled with a strand of my hair and used the soft, pleading tone she always used to reason with me.
I shook my head again. “I’ll only do this if you come with me.” That made Mom let go of my hand and sigh in frustration.
“No, Mom — listen to me. You can’t handle this. You can’t handle D’Angelo anymore and the longer you stay, the less likely you are to live.” I squeezed her hand, trying to convince her. “Mom... you deserve better than this. You deserve a good life.”
Mom watched me with a tender stare, cupped my cheeks, and kissed my head. She let out a shaky breath and hugged me tight.
“What did I ever do to have a daughter like you, mi amore?” she whispered, smiling through tears. “I love you, tesoro.”
“I love you too, Mom,” I said, forcing a smile.
Our hug ended when a roar tore through the house from downstairs. We pulled apart and stared at each other, wide-eyed. Mom opened the door.
“What the fuck?!” D’Angelo’s yell echoed up the stairs and my heart sank. Mom and I went down together. Everyone was gathered in the living room, and at the foot of the staircase sat a coffin.
I turned and saw the body inside. It was Leonardo.
Leonardo Gusto — the secret son D’Angelo had, the bastard Mom had discovered years ago. I didn’t know him well; he’d done D’Angelo’s dirty work. I didn’t feel sorry. He deserved it.
His corpse was grotesque: his neck sliced open, dry blood oozing from the wound; he was handless; his chest riddled with bullets and dry blood leaking from his mouth. Whoever did this left nothing for him.
“We have to act fast! We can’t have our bodies turning up like this!” Nicola snarled, pacing.
“Don’t you think I know that?!” D’Angelo snapped, eyes bloodshot. He turned on the guards like a storm. “You fuckers are useless! How could you let this happen?” He tore up the stairs.
This was gruesome — the kind of thing I saw all the time. D’Angelo and Nicola killed without remorse. Leonardo wasn’t innocent; he’d earned it.
Then Nicola roared again. I froze. He seized my elbow and dragged me up the stairs. In the bedroom he shoved me in and slammed the door, locking it behind him. My jaw ached where he’d grabbed me; it was sore and bruised.
“All this happened because of you!” he spat, grabbing my jaw and staring through me. “All this happened because of you, suka! Ever since that scoundrel boyfriend of yours died, things like this always happen!”
I clenched my teeth and glared up at him.
“I did not do anything,” I ground out. “He’s dead.”
“Shut the fuck up! I don’t care if he’s dead! You have no idea what you’ve caused — you don’t know a single fucking thing! This is all your fucking fault!”
“I didn’t do anything!” I said, and just as I was about to continue, I was cut off by Nicola when he slapped me. A stinging sensation settled on my right cheek, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
“Did you just fucking answer back at me? Huh?” He grabbed my jaw and rattled it. “What the fuck have I taught you about that?” he screamed as I shut my eyes tight. “You’re going to regret talking to me like that, you ungrateful bitch! Just watch what I do to you!”
He threw me on the floor as he let go of my jaw and kicked me. I looked up at him, and he growled, anger radiating from him as he watched me with pure hate.
“Get dressed,” he instructed, and I immediately shook my head as my body tensed. I sat there, frozen, watching him in fear. “Yes, get dressed now! I’m coming to get you in half an hour. Be fast — if not, there will be consequences.” He barked before leaving the room.
My teary eyes watched the door as it slammed in my face.
I was mortified. Nicola was so angry that I had no idea what he was about to do.
However, I knew that whatever it was, it would ruin me inside and out — and I was definitely not prepared for it.
Unfortunately, I had no choice. I had to deal with it. I had to be prepared for it.