CHAPTER 22
Ariana's POV
I walk around the small kitchen, grab a glass, and fill it with water. The first sip burns down my dry throat, but I keep drinking until the glass is empty. Leaning against the counter, I stare blankly ahead for a few seconds before setting it down and slowly making my way back to my room.
If you could even call it that.
The longer I stayed in this so-called hideout, the more it felt like the walls were closing in — dragging me down with them. Each day bled into the next, the air heavy, my mind heavier.
Last night was a blur. I vaguely remembered crying myself to sleep — something I hadn’t done this much since the days I was trapped under Nicola’s roof. It was a routine I swore I’d never fall back into, and yet here I was, curled up in the same emptiness again.
Mia didn’t come to visit this morning. I was grateful for that.
I didn’t have the strength to face her or anyone else.
My chest still ached from everything that happened last night — from Alessandro’s words.
And even though he wanted nothing to do with me, I couldn’t stop worrying about him.
The thought of his injury twisted my stomach into knots.
And the fact that he wouldn’t even let me help made me feel worse — useless, unwanted.
No one came by all morning, and I was fine with that. But the quiet didn’t last long.
“Ciao, bella...”
Bruno’s voice broke the silence as he walked in carrying a few things. He placed them down on the table and turned toward me, studying me like he was trying to read my mind.
I didn’t say anything. I just watched him for a moment before lowering my gaze to my hands, hoping he’d tell me how Alessandro was doing and then leave. But of course, Bruno had other plans.
He settled himself comfortably on the couch, clearly not going anywhere.
“How is he?” I croaked, still staring down at my fingers.
“Alessandro?” he repeated, then chuckled softly. “He’s a warrior, niente lo ferma. Nothing happened to him. He’s fine.”
“Oh...” I nodded slowly, my throat tightening again. “Okay.”
The words felt hollow. My mind was miles away, drifting through everything I hadn’t said to Alessandro. I needed him to listen. Just once. If he did, maybe he’d understand — maybe I’d finally know why he hated me so much.
But before I could spiral too far into that thought, Bruno’s voice cut through again.
“Bella,” he said gently. “What is it? You know you can tell me.”
It took me a moment to register that he’d moved. When I finally looked up, Bruno was sitting next to me on the bed, his face softened with concern.
I blinked a few times before meeting his eyes. The reassurance there — the patience — made something in me crack.
“Is it about Alessandro?”
The question made my chest cave in. My eyes filled instantly, one tear slipping free before I could stop it. I nodded.
“See?” he smiled lightly. “That wasn’t so hard to tell me.”
But I couldn’t hold it anymore. The tears came all at once, breaking through the fragile wall I’d been holding up. My shoulders shook as I covered my face with my hands, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Oh no, bella, please don’t cry,” Bruno said quickly, panic flashing across his face. “I’m not good at consoling people.”
That made me cry even harder.
I couldn’t stop. This was the only release I had left — the only way to empty everything I’d been bottling up for so long. I had no one else. Mom wasn’t here. Mia was too sweet, too hopeful. Everyone else was too cold, too intimidating. But Bruno... Bruno felt safe.
His hand landed gently on my shoulder, giving it a small shake.
“I–I’m sorry,” I stuttered between sobs. “I just— I’m sorry!”
“Hey,” he murmured, “it’s okay, Ariana. You can talk to me. What’s going on? What did he do?”
“Nothing!” I snapped, shaking my head. “That’s not the point!”
Bruno frowned, watching me quietly.
“I’m angry at myself,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “For being weak. I have no one, Bruno. For once in my life, I can’t do anything on my own. I always need someone — someone to cry to, to tell me what to do, how to live, how to even be.”
I gasped, inhaling sharply through the tears. “I want to go back in time — just rewind everything — so things aren’t this bad. I feel stupid for thinking Alessandro would still be the same man he was years ago. I should’ve known better. People change. They move on. And I... I didn’t.”
Bruno didn’t say a word. He just watched me, his expression soft but heavy with concern. When I faltered, he nudged me gently, urging me to keep going.
“I just wish he’d talk to me,” I whispered, trembling. “I want to explain everything, but he won’t even look at me. I should be having this conversation with him right now, not you — but I can’t. Because that Alessandro isn’t the same man I loved years ago.”
Bruno’s voice was quiet when he asked, “You loved him, didn’t you?”
I nodded, my chin quivering.
“Do you still love him?”
The question hit me like a jolt. My heart started pounding, my mind scrambling for an answer I wasn’t ready to face.
“I loved him more than anything,” I breathed. “Years ago, he was everything to me. But now... I don’t know if I feel the same anymore.”
Bruno tilted his head slightly. “If you loved him, then why did you leave?”
My head snapped up, eyes wide. The words echoed in my chest, shaking something deep inside me.
That’s why Alessandro hated me. That’s why he looked at me the way he did.
Did Bruno know what had happened that night? Did anyone?
Tears blurred my vision again as realization sank in. Bruno waited patiently, his eyes never leaving mine — but before I could speak, a loud voice interrupted us.
“Ferraro! Where the fuck are you?”
Bruno groaned quietly and stood up, glancing toward the door. My chest tightened — I’d missed my chance to tell him. Again.
When I looked up, Bruno was standing beside one of the men from dinner — Luca.
“What do you want?” Bruno asked. “What happened?”
“We’ve got places to be, fratello,” Luca said, smirking. “Leave the poor ragazza alone.”
He flashed me a grin. I tried to return it, but it came out weak, forced.
“Okay, I’m coming,” Bruno sighed. “Wait for me outside, yeah?”
Luca raised a brow but nodded and walked off. When the door shut, Bruno turned back to me.
“Ariana,” he said seriously, “no matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you. Even if it means standing up to Alessandro. Do you understand?”
My stomach twisted. That can’t happen.
“Just go, Bruno,” I whispered.
“I’ll call Mia—”
“No,” I shook my head quickly. “I want to be alone, please.”
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes soft with concern. Then he nodded, quietly stepping away.
As the door clicked shut behind him, silence flooded the room again — the kind that made your thoughts louder, heavier.
I sank onto the bed, staring blankly at the wall as tears blurred my vision once more.
“When is this going to stop?” I whispered to no one.
***
AS USUAL, MIA AND I were walking around the garden. It had become our evening ritual, something we did just before the sun began to set. I’d grown to like it — the routine, the calm air, the brief moments when the world felt peaceful again. It was the one thing that seemed to refresh my mind.
But today felt different.
Normally after our walk, I’d return to the small house, shower, and get ready for bed. But this evening, Mia suggested we stop by the mansion for a while — Leyla was there too, and she thought it’d be good for me to spend time with her, to get to know her better.
As always, my first instinct was to refuse. But Mia wasn’t taking no for an answer.
It had been a few days since Alessandro was shot. I hadn’t seen him since — or any of them, really. I assumed they were busy, but the silence weighed on me.
When we entered the mansion, Mia and I settled onto the couch.
Leyla was already there, bright and full of life.
I’d learned a bit about her — that she was Bruno’s younger sister, around the same age as Mia, and treated like the family’s little sister by all the men.
She visited often, bringing warmth to a place that otherwise felt cold and tense.
While Mia and Leyla chatted easily, I found myself mostly listening, my eyes wandering across the grand hall. I joined in their laughter occasionally, but my mind wasn’t really there.
“Hey, we’re going to grab some food from the kitchen. Want to come?” Mia offered, standing up.
I shook my head. “No, you go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
“Okay,” she smiled, giving my hand a squeeze. “We’ll be right back.”
Their laughter echoed down the hallway as they disappeared, leaving me alone in the large, silent lounge. I watched them until they were gone, and my smile faded.
I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed like that — freely, without thinking. The truth was, I didn’t have it in me anymore. All I wanted was to go home. To see my mom. To tell her I couldn’t do this anymore.
I regretted not opening up to her that day when she’d asked if I was okay. It had been over a week since I’d seen her. I missed her so much it hurt.
The mansion was eerily quiet now. My eyes drifted toward the grand staircase. For a moment, I hesitated. I shouldn’t wander off. But curiosity pulled at me — a dangerous kind of curiosity.
I wanted to see if Alessandro had built this estate the way he once dreamed it with me.
Slowly, I got up and began climbing the stairs.
My footsteps were soft against the marble, and as I reached the top, I took in every detail — the carved railings, the wallpaper’s faint gold patterns, the polished tiles, and the subtle luxury of the décor.
It was exactly my taste: simple, elegant, timeless.
He had remembered.
But my silent inspection was cut short by a raised voice coming from down the hallway. The sharp, angry tone made me freeze mid-step. I knew that voice.
Alessandro.
I should have turned back. I should have walked away. But I didn’t.
Drawn by a mix of fear and longing, I followed the sound until I reached the same room I’d seen him in days ago — the last place we’d spoken. The door was slightly ajar, just enough for me to see through.
“How is it my fault that she won’t speak?” Bruno’s voice echoed first. “You practically scare the living shit out of her with just one stare. Jesus, give the ragazza a break for once.”
I held my breath and looked inside.
Alessandro stood across from Bruno and Salvatore, his expression twisted in anger.
“I wasn’t the one who fucking kidnapped her, was I?” Alessandro barked, slamming his fist onto the table. “I wanted Lucy, goddammit!”
The sound made me flinch.
Lucy?
My stomach dropped.
“That’s not the point,” Salvatore cut in firmly. “We need to know what went on during the last decade. If only you’d opened those tabs on Ariana three years ago, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Tabs?
My brows knitted together as the words sank in. Alessandro had tabs on me — but never once checked? Never once reached out?
“You know why I didn’t,” Alessandro growled. “She had that fiancé of hers looking after her. Why did I need to?”
My chest tightened painfully. He hadn’t even cared to see for himself.
Salvatore ran a hand over his head, exasperated. “That’s not the point, amico mio. The point is you wouldn’t even be here right now without that information. If you’d looked earlier, maybe you’d already have what you need on D’Angelo.”
Alessandro’s anger began to fade into something heavier. He leaned off the table, breathing hard.
“Speaking of her fiancé—or husband,” Salvatore continued, “I opened the files. Nothing new. The last activity I found was that he got sent to jail for attempted murder. The man went down trying to kill someone. Do you think... it could be that he killed D’Angelo?”
“No,” Alessandro said quickly, rubbing his face. “He was charged with attempted murder. Whoever killed D’Angelo actually succeeded. It can’t be him.”
“What about Ariana?” Bruno asked quietly. “Do you think he tried to kill her?”
My breath caught. The question sliced through the air like a blade.
Hearing it spoken aloud — hearing Bruno say it — made my entire body go numb. My eyes blurred with tears as I watched Alessandro’s reaction.
His face went pale with shock. Then, slowly, he shook his head.
“No,” he muttered. “I don’t think that happened.”
The refusal stung worse than anything. He didn’t even consider it. Even as a possibility.
Bruno exhaled, frustrated. “Then what do you think happened?”
“I don’t know,” Alessandro said coldly. “That’s why you ragazzi are going to find out where this Nicola is — and what the fuck happened to that perfect family.”
The sound of Nicola’s name hit me like a hammer.
My fingers tightened around the doorframe, and I felt my whole body start to shake. My pulse quickened. Sweat broke out along my forehead.
Nicola.
Even hearing his name made my skin crawl, my throat close up.
I stepped back slowly, careful not to make a sound. They couldn’t know. They couldn’t dig into that part of my life. That nightmare.
Although Nicola was gone — dead — I still couldn’t face what he’d done to me. I couldn’t let anyone else face it either.
By the time I made it back downstairs, my chest was heaving.
“Hey, where did you go?” Leyla asked as I approached the couch, snapping me out of my daze.
“I... uh... I went to use the restroom,” I lied.
Leyla nodded easily, turning to Mia again.
“Mia,” I said softly, “I think I’m going to head to bed.”
Her expression shifted instantly, concern replacing her smile.
“Are you sure?”
“Y-Yeah. You stay — I’ll be fine.”
Mia hesitated for a moment, studying me. I could tell she wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t push. She gave a small nod instead.
I walked back to the house alone. The night air was heavy and cool, the sky fading to dark.
When I finally reached the bed, I curled beneath the sheets, clutching the blanket to my chest. But no matter how tightly I held it, the unease wouldn’t leave me.
Something was stirring again — deep, buried, dangerous.
And as I lay there, trembling in the quiet, one thought kept repeating in my head:
They’re going to find out.
And when they do... everything will fall apart.