42. Serafina
CHAPTER 42
Serafina
A s I slowly open my eyes, the warm morning light filters through the familiar curtains, casting a golden glow over everything in the room. The sensation of waking up after days and seconds all at once overwhelms me as I try to make sense of my surroundings. Where am I? My gaze travels around the cream-colored walls, taking in the framed photos and paintings that adorn them. It hits me suddenly—I'm in my old room at my parents' house. But how did I get here?
I last remember sitting in that car, Nora beside me, Alex at the wheel. We were driving off into the dark abyss of the Mexican night. Then...nothing. A deep void in my memory where everything goes black. The sense of unease grows within me as I struggle to piece together what happened and how I ended up back in this place I thought I had left behind long ago.
With a groan, I push myself into a seated position, feeling the dull throb behind my eyes. My movements are slow and unsteady as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stumble towards the en-suite bathroom. In the dim light, my reflection in the mirror looks haggard and haunted, with dark circles etched beneath my eyes.
Turning on the shower, I watch as steam billows from the spray before stripping off yesterday's clothes. The hot water cascades over me, but its soothing warmth does nothing to wash away the creeping panic that gnaws at my mind. I have to find Nora. Have to piece together what happened last night.
I lather shampoo through my hair, thoughts racing. Maybe if I sneak out the back while everyone is still asleep, I could make a break for it. Or I could fake an errand or appointment to escape this suffocating house. I have to try. Because one thing is sure - I won't get any answers here.
As I push aside the hangers, a vibrant red catches my eye, the fabric glowing under the dim light of the closet. My hand freezes mid-air, drawn to the dress that Lucas had loved seeing me in. The color is like a flame, dancing and captivating.
"Fuck," I whisper, a sudden ache blooms in my chest. Hot, angry tears prick at the back of my eyes, threatening to spill over. "Bastardo," I mutter under my breath, shoving the beautiful dress aside with a rough hand. The fabric feels like sandpaper against my skin, a cruel reminder of all I have endured for someone I thought loved me.
Hell, if I'm being honest, despite everything, there's still a lingering love for him deep inside me. But right now, all I can feel is anger and hurt, enough to make me want to let out a gut-wrenching scream.
As the initial wave of relief that he is still alive subsides, a simmering anger bubbles up inside me toward him. How could he just up and leave me in the middle of nowhere? I don’t know whether I’ll want to kiss him or slap him when I see him again. It’s probably best I avoid him for now.
That means turning to Nora for answers. I find it suspicious that I have no recollection of yesterday right after drinking the water she gave me. She must know everything.
Frantically swiping at my damp cheeks, I hastily slip on a pair of faded jeans and a cozy cable-knit sweater. As I tiptoe down the staircase, the strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon wafts from the kitchen, tempting my growling stomach. If I'm careful enough, I can slip out the front door unnoticed while everyone is busy indulging in breakfast...
"Serafina? Is that you?"
A chill runs down my spine, causing me to freeze with my hand still gripping the cool metal doorknob. Merda. My mind races as I slowly turn to face my parents; their expressions are veiled and impossible to decipher.
"Sit down, my figlia - my daughter," Papá gestures to the living room. "We need to talk."
I reluctantly perch on the edge of the sofa, my arms tightly crossed over my chest. Mamá and Papá settle into their armchairs across from me, creating a united front. Their expressions are serious, but there is an underlying worry in their eyes.
"Where have you been, Serafina?" Mamá asks, her tone deceptively gentle. "We've been worried sick."
My shoulders tense as I try to avoid her piercing gaze. "I don't know." It's not a complete lie; I didn't know where in Mexico I'd been the past month.
Papá leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Piccola, por favor. We just want to understand what happened."
A lump, thick and heavy, forms in my throat. I can't tell them the truth. Fear clenches my heart, knowing what they'll do to Lucas if they find out we were planning to run away together.
But on the other hand, if I confess everything, the deep-seated hatred I’ve started to harbor toward him will finally find some peace. "I don't know, Mom," my voice trembles as I try to devise a believable excuse. "One moment, I was running errands, and the next, I was thrown into the back of a dark van and whisked off to God knows where." My thoughts drift to Lucas, and I feel a pang of longing. Why can't I just give him up?
Mamá's eyes flash with worry and anger, her dark irises sparkling like flint against steel. "I bet it was the Rossi's," she says, her voice laced with frustration. "We've taken on too many enemies in Dominic's relentless pursuit to expand our reaches. It was only a matter of time before someone struck back."
As soon as the words leave her mouth, I can feel the weight of their truth settle heavily on my chest. Dominic's dream to conquer the entire West Coast is no small feat, and with every new territory claim, we make more enemies. The Fabietti family is only the beginning; our family will undoubtedly face many more adversaries. And more enemies can only mean one thing for me: I can't shake the feeling that this is the final nail in the coffin for any hope of a normal life for me.
"How did I end up here?" I cautiously choose my words, not wanting to reveal too much. My memories are fragmented, like shattered pieces of glass. The last thing I recall is Nora's desperate attempt to save me from Mexico. But after that, nada - it's all blank.
My father's eyes glisten with unshed tears as he explains, "We found you outside our gate late last night." In an instant, I reach for his hand and hold on tight. He has always been the more emotional parent, and I am grateful for his vulnerability. "We weren't sure if you were still breathing."
"Oh, papa," My heart drops at the sight of my father in such a vulnerable state.
"Well," my mother rises from her seat, smoothing out her skirt. "Until this is all over, you'll have an escort. John & Josh will accompany you wherever you go."
"What?" I'm taken aback, jumping to my feet. "Mama, that's really not necessary."
"It's for your own safety, figlia," Papá adds in solemnly. "We can't risk losing you again."
My heart aches to ask about Lucas, but I know the risk is too great. Just uttering his name aloud could betray my true feelings. So, instead, I retreat to the seclusion of my room, craving the solitude to contemplate my next move in light of my new circumstances.
House arrest. Being watched like I'm a fragile porcelain doll in need of constant protection. But they don't understand. If only Lucas hadn't stood me up, I would have never returned to this place, desperate for an escape from this suffocating life and yearning for a path that was solely ours. But here I am, right back where I started. Stuck in this stifling existence that is about to become even more unbearable.
The heavy click of the lock echoes through my room as I close and secure my bedroom door. My gaze is drawn again to the dress hanging in my closet that Lucas loved. A pang of sadness and longing fills my chest.
The memories of him still linger, haunting me in every moment. I yearn for his presence, his touch, and how he treated me as more than just a possession to be traded. He saw me for who I was and encouraged me to stand up for myself.
But wherever he is now, and no matter how strong the pull of my body towards him, I will never allow myself to succumb to his deceitful words again. My heart may still ache for him, but my mind is resolute in keeping me safe from his charming lies.