Chapter 15 #2
I jerk my head toward the doorway, nearly getting whiplash when a familiar, short, smug man with silver-dusted black hair steps into my room.
Ivan fucking Nowak.
The Black Book leader whose tip ended with the explosion we thought got Zeke killed in Chicago.
“Ivan?”
His eyes glitter like polished coal. “Surprised to see me, little girl?”
I gape at Zeke who’s carefully sliding the envelope behind my back. “What is going on? Why the fuck is Ivan here?”
“Bells,” Zeke pleads. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Oh, that’s okay, Zeke,” Ivan cuts in smoothly as his fat ass strolls into the room. “I’ve got time.”
He flashes a slow grin. “Why not tell your sister the truth? You know… about how you’ve been fucking my cousin for years.”
My fork clatters to the plate. “What?” I blurt out, heat rising to my face. “What the hell is he talking about?”
Zeke’s on his feet before I can even finish the question. He crosses the room and is in Ivan’s face in two very quick, very hostile strides.
“Drop it,” Zeke seethes.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ivan drawls, his beady eyes dancing with satisfaction. “Did you two not have the boyfriend talk yet?” He swivels his head toward me, voice feigning innocence. “Oops, my mistake. I thought you knew.”
“Ivan,” Luca’s voice snaps like a whip from the hallway.
“Hmm,” Ivan ponders, eyeing me up and down while tapping his index finger to his chin. “When exactly are you adding her to your little mix, cousin?” he calls toward the door.
“Cousin? What—”
“That’s quite enough,” Luca barks as he steps into the doorway. “Both of you, out.”
Ivan winks at me. “Don’t forget to ask your big brother about how you killed mine.” His thick Russian accent curls through his teeth as he heads to the door.
Zeke pauses at the foot of my bed. His eyes flick to mine. “I’m sorry, " he whispers, just loud enough for me to catch as he bends in to hug me.
“Play the game,” he breathes in my ear so quietly it could be my own thought.
Then he’s gone. Disappearing down the hallway beside Luca and Ivan like a ghost.
The second I hear their footsteps on the staircase, I reach behind me and pull out the envelope. I stare at it a second or two before ripping it open.
My dearest Bella,
If you are reading this, that means I failed you. It means he got to you. And it means I’m no longer here to protect you or your brother. For that, my sweet Sugar Bear, I’m so terribly sorry.
I want you to know—no matter what has happened and no matter how this ends—I will never regret what I did on that stormy Halloween all those years ago. You were the best thing that ever happened to my sister. To Henry. To this family. You brought us joy we never knew was missing.
I do regret him.
I regret not seeing the truth earlier. But I was young and in love, and by the time I uncovered the truth, it was too late.
I found the journal buried deep in his study.
An old one, dusty and water-damaged, tucked beneath a false bottom drawer.
It held everything. His hatred, his obsession, and his plans for you.
When I confronted him, he knocked me unconscious.
I woke up chained to a wall in a strange, damp basement.
The ashes of the journal sitting in a pile at my feet.
But I remember what it said. Even the jumbled up parts when Jack’s sanity started slipping through the cracks.
Sweetheart, Uncle Jack isn’t who he says he is.
In fact, Jack Donnelly doesn’t even exist. His real name is Luca Cassinelli and he was completely obsessed with your birth mother, Isabella (Izzy) ever since they were children.
He hated your birth father, Roman Russo, for taking her away from him.
He hated the world for not letting them be together.
When your parents started dating, something snapped deep inside Luca. He switched his major from finance to criminal justice, bound and determined to take down the Russo empire.
This was when Jack Donnelly was born. He needed someone Roman wouldn’t see coming. He thought putting Roman behind bars would make Izzy run to him. He never realized how deep your mother’s love for your father ran.
Your mother, bless her soul, was a very troubled young girl.
She needed help but never received it. There were two women living inside your mother’s body.
Izzy was a happy, loving, and caring soul.
A beautiful dancer loved by all those around her.
Raina was the darkness hiding in the shadows. Izzy’s protector.
Izzy loved Roman more than anything in this world. Raina loved Luca. She loved his darkness and his obsession. The problem was, Roman and Luca both ever only loved Izzy.
From what I read from his ramblings, I’m pretty sure Raina got good at impersonating Izzy. Some of the later entries didn’t quite match up to Izzy’s actions in the earlier ones. Which makes me think that one day, Raina just shoved Izzy out and fooled him.
Fooled everyone.
You should know, I met Raina when you were born.
She was the one who made me promise to get you as far away from Roman Russo and New York as I could.
Raina painted your father as this horrific monster.
And while Roman is a dangerous and powerful man, I don’t think you should fear him.
Not fully. In fact I feel like he might’ve kept you safer than we did.
Anyway, I realize now, she (and Jack inevitably) were just weaponizing my fear against a man Raina simply hated because he wasn’t the man she loved. He wasn’t Luca.
When your mother died, I called Jack Luca and told him what was going on. He came straight to the hospital with a plan.
I’m sorry but it’s because of that phone call you are in his cross hairs, sweetheart. It’s because of me his obsession didn’t die with your mother.
Bella, the moment he held you in his arms as a baby, Luca stopped mourning your mother and convinced himself she had never fully left. He believes that a part of Izzy lives inside you. That if he can make you remember… if he can make you love him… then he’ll get her back.
And I hate myself for even saying this, but you have to let him believe. You must pretend. He has to believe that your love is real. That you are her. I’ve seen the terror that monster can inflict on a person’s body and soul when he doesn’t get his way.
I’ll tell you the same thing I’ve told your brother for a long time now. Play his game, but never let him win. Please, don’t ever let him replace who you truly are.
Isabella Marie Blackwood.
Say it every day. Remember who you are, Sugar Bear. Promise me that.
There’s something else I need to ask of you and that is to help your brother.
Luca has done things to him. Unspeakable things that you will never understand. He broke him. Over and over. And every time I pulled him back in and pieced him together, Luca would drag him under all over again.
Luca has clawed his way into that boy’s head so deep that sometimes I’m not sure if I’m talking to Zeke or just to a ghost wearing his skin.
He’s going to need you.
He protected you all those years in Miami and now it’s your turn to protect him.
When he starts to slip, and he will, look him in the eyes and remind him who he is.
Your brother. Your family. Remind him that he is stronger than what Luca has done to him.
Remind him that Luca is the villain and Zeke is the hero in your story.
I pray you never read this, because that would mean he never got to you. That you’re safe, and happy, and whole. But if you are reading it, then you already know. I never stopped loving you.
Be brave, Sugar Bear.
For me.
For Zeke.
Love always,
Aunt Claire
“Izzy?” Luca’s voice slinks into the doorway.
I fold the letter quickly, the sharp corner of the paper cutting my skin as I shove it under my thigh.
“Yeah,” I reply, my voice shaking.
“I was hoping that since the house will be quiet for a while we could talk. Maybe try to reconnect?”
Play his game, but never let him win.
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
He smiles, all teeth. “Great. How about dinner tonight? I have a meeting this afternoon but should be done around five.”
“Sounds great.” I force a smile.
“Perfect. I made sure this was full for you,” he says while strutting over to the closet. “Outfits, shoes, jewelry, everything you need.”
“Thank you.” I nod.
“I’ll see you tonight.” He turns, his footsteps soft as he disappears down the hallway.
I wait until I can’t hear him anymore before sliding the letter back into my hands.
“Aunt Claire, you better be right about this,” I whisper to myself as I trace my name with a pointed finger.
“Isabella Marie Blackwood.”