9. Amara
Amara
I hear my mother storming up the stairs. I know it’s her because she refuses to take off her heels on purpose. She knows the sound clicks angrily against the marble. She knows it drives Dom insane.
Now the sounds have disappeared as she walks over the plush carpet of the hallway to her room.
She’s never shared a room with Dom. I’ve always found that strange because she and my father shared everything—every moment, every secret. I suppose not all marriages are the same.
But are they married?
I remember him goading her, telling her she was nothing more than a mistress. Does that mean he has someone else? And why did he trick her into a blessing and not a marriage?
Or did Dom trick her? Did she know?
The thought rolls around in my head like an unwanted guest. Why would he do that?
A door slams somewhere in the house.
I need to focus. Forget about Helena and Dom. I have to. My deadline is so close now, and I have to send that message to SweetJustice today.
My heart hammers against my chest.
The days and now hours have slipped away faster than sand through fingers.
Only the idea of going out with Milly, her friends, and Poppy tonight warms me. I so need it, the promise of freedom for one night, even if it’s wrapped in laughter and booze.
I smile to myself as I picture all of us getting so drunk. I’m planning to get so hammered that I can’t walk straight and blissfully forget everything for just one night.
I sit at my dressing table, heart pounding as I log into the Pampered Princess website, keeping myself incognito.
Please don’t let him be online.
My breath catches when I see his username isn’t listed on the panel. A flicker of relief washes over me as I type out a message to his profile.
“There’s a mafia meeting at Angels and Sinners on Saturday night. Time is unknown. Participants are unknown. I’m sorry, this is as much as I could find out for you.”
I hit send and lean back in my chair, feeling an ache settle in my chest as uncertainty creeps back in like smoke filling a room. I have no choice but to deliver it, yet somehow it feels with each word I typed out that I’m plunging the knife into my own back.
I wish I knew who this person was, and if this information was enough for what they need to do—but all I can do is hope.
A flicker of guilt twists in my gut as I glance at the tennis bracelet Dom bought me for my eighteenth birthday.
I love the bracelet and I wear it every day.
It’s a reminder of Dom’s kindness. And I hate that I’ve tried to sell it, but the pawnbroker only offered me five grand for the bracelet.
I thought he would offer me enough money to run away and live in a foreign place for a year.
But five grand—a pathetic sum compared to its worth.
I am desperate. I need for my situation to go away.
I twist my wrist, watching the diamonds glinting under the dim light of my room.
I hate that I’ll still have to sell it one day. Not yet though; not until the time is right. I tuck that thought away for now as I jump off the bed and pull the chair to the center of my room. Climb on top and quickly unscrew the loose air-con panel and grab my diary from where I hide it.
After throwing the diary onto my bed, I replace the panel in case someone comes into my room.
Then I grab a pen and flip to a fresh page in my diary.
I can’t write Caleb’s name down on paper. I never do, I can’t take the risk that my diary will be found. I write about him often, but that’s because he occupies my mind like a stubborn weed.
There’s something about him that makes me feel alive. I write. He makes me laugh, and his eyes…they spark something in me I didn’t know was missing.
But then doubt creeps in, chilling the warmth he brings. Can I trust him?
My hand shakes as I scribble down my fears alongside my hopes.
A gentle tap on the door surprises me; usually, nobody bothers with knocking around here.
“Come in,” I call out, forcing a smile despite the knot tightening in my chest.
“Hi baby, can I talk to you?” Mom’s voice sounds softer than usual.
“Of course, Mom.” I close the diary and turn it over as she slips inside my room and perches on the edge of my bed.
I wait and watch as the air thickens with the tension she brought with her. Her shoulders are slumped, defeated, I expect.
“I’m leaving soon,” she says, her voice so quiet, like it hurts her throat to say the words.
My heart skips a beat. “How soon?”
“If you want to come with me, you can.”
Her eyes search mine for something that looks a lot like hope. But all I feel is a wave of confusion crashing over me.
This is what I want, I think. There’s something tantalizing about breaking free from this gilded cage. But at the same time, it weighs heavily on my heart because this prison is the only place I feel safe.
“Have you taken his offer?” My voice trembles.
Her face darkens as she shrugs dismissively. “Not yet. He needs to offer me a lot more for putting up with him.”
I smile as her phone dings.
She glances at the screen. “My driver is here. Let me let him know I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
I wait for her to finish as I contemplate her and Dom. I thought they were in love once upon a time. Obviously, I was wrong. “What did Dom do to you?”
“It was all fake. But I can’t tell you anything else. I signed an NDA.”
“An NDA? Why?”
“Because the man doesn’t trust anyone.”
I nod. I get why he doesn’t. Mafia men aren’t exactly squeaky clean. “Let me get this semester finished before I leave,” I tell her. “Give me six months.”
“Then we’ll travel,” she tells me. “Where would you like to go?”
“Really? I’d like to travel to Europe.”
“Me too.” She smiles. “And I hear you’re going out with Milly tonight.” She nods like she is contemplating life. “You and Milly brought me a lot of joy.”
“And Lia.” She always forgets about our older sister.
“And Lia. But I need to leave now. The car is waiting for me.” She kisses my forehead before she stands and walks to the door.
My phone chimes with a message and I know who it’s from, so I don’t even look at the caller.
“I love you,” I tell her. “I’m looking forward to traveling. Can we go to Spain?”
She smiles as she opens the door. “Anywhere.” She stands with her hand on the doorframe. “Don’t let him change you.”
“Dom?”
She nods as she holds the handle and disappears.
I quickly open my phone and see the message.
SweetJustice: I’ll be there on Saturday, but I want you there too. Then, if you’re lying, every sordid picture of you will go to your stepfather and his mafia buddies.
SweetBunny: Why are you doing this to me? What have I done to you?
SweetJustice: You’ve done enough.
Caleb pulls into the parking space outside of Kost Bar, his Range Rover purring softly as he shifts into park.
I wave at Milly, who is waiting on the sidewalk.
“Milly!” Poppy yells, hopping out first, her laughter bubbling over as she chats with Milly by the door.
I stay in my seat for a moment, taking a breath to calm my racing heart when Caleb’s eyes catch mine. There’s a flicker of desire in his gaze and it sends warmth rushing through me.
“Why weren’t you on the website last night?” he asks, his voice low enough that only I can hear.
“I didn’t feel like it.” The words slip out before I can think better of them.
He nods slowly, and the corner of his mouth twitches up in that way that makes me forget everything else around us.
“We’ll talk when Poppy goes to sleep,” he says, leaving me with an unexpected thrill.
I hesitate before replying. “Okay.”
As I climb out of the car, Poppy swings her arm around my shoulder. “Ready to party?”
“Always,” I say, forcing a smile that hides the nervous flutter in my stomach.
Milly steps forward with her usual flair, her dress hugging every curve perfectly. “You look hot tonight,” I tell her.
She beams. “Thanks! Romeo is here and I want to show him what he’s missing,” she replies with a playful wink.
My stomach tightens at the thought of his brother, Con, being here too; I don’t want to deal with him tonight. I push the worry aside as we walk toward the entrance together.
The bass from inside thumps against my chest as we approach the door.
Just before stepping inside, I glance back at Caleb’s car. He watches me, his expression unreadable but intense as ever.
I give him a quick nod and step inside the bar.
Laughter fills the air, mingling with clinking glasses and upbeat music. Milly slides into a booth next to Frankie while Poppy nudges me toward our seats. The smell of cocktails wafts past me as we settle in and order drinks.
“Is he looking?” Milly asks as she takes a sip of her espresso martini.
I glanced at where we just saw Romeo walking when he passed our table. But then my heart sinks; across the room sits Con at another table with Romeo and Enzo along with some people I don’t know.
Con’s piercing gaze locks onto mine, making it impossible to breathe for a moment.
“Is he looking at me?” Milly asks.
“Con might be, but I think Romeo is deep in conversation with his friend.”
Milly rolls her eyes.
“You need to forget about him.”
Milly picks up her drink and sighs.
But my heart is still racing from the way Con looked over at our table. It might not have been me he was looking at, but chances are it was.
“I’ll be a minute.” I excuse myself to head to the bathroom, needing a moment away from his watchful eyes.
The restroom offers no refuge from my swirling thoughts; instead, it feels suffocating.
After I dab water on my neck, I step back outside and gasp at seeing Con, who is waiting for me by the exit. He’s leaning casually against the wall like he owns it.
“Have you kept your mouth shut?” His voice drips with poison as he blocks my path.
I try to sidestep him, but he slams me against the wall with surprising force, pinning me there so close that his breath mingles with mine. His face lowers until his mouth touches my ear. “Don’t forget who you’re dealing with.” His whisper sends chills down my spine.
My heart pounds against my ribs as Milly grabs Con’s arm, trying to wrench him away from me. But he keeps me pinned, his body pressed hard against mine, his eyes burning with a silent threat.
“Get off her!” Milly yanks harder.
The crack of her palm against his cheek echoes in the narrow hallway.
“Fuck!” Con releases me, his hand flying to his face.
In a blur of movement, he spins and slams Milly against the opposite wall. “You fucking hit me.”
“Leave her alone or I’ll do it again.” Milly’s voice doesn’t waver.
Con’s laugh comes out dark, menacing. He turns back to me, jaw tight. “Did you tell her?”
I shake my head, panic rising in my throat.
“I know everything.” Milly’s words hit like a punch to my gut.
No, no, no. Why would she say that?
Con’s face twists with rage. “You stupid little bitch. Both of you are dead if anyone finds out. I’ll cut out your tongues and feed them to you.”
“Please, just leave.” My voice comes out small, shaky. “Nobody knows anything.”
“Shut your mouth.” He presses closer to Milly. “Or—”
“Leave her alone.” Tears stream down my face as I try to pull him off her.
Con’s threat cuts off in a strangled groan as he crumples to the floor, holding his balls.
My life is going to get so much worse.
“I’m calling Dom,” Milly says.
“Don’t call him,” I beg as Milly pulls out her phone, her fingers already dialing. “Please.”
“He needs to know what he did to you.” Milly’s voice is steel, unwavering as she holds the phone to her ear.
I try to grab it from her, but she turns away. “Dom? You need to come to Kost. Now. Con attacked Amara.”
My heart pounds against my ribs as I sink against the wall, my head on my knees. Everything I’ve tried to hide is unraveling.
It takes Dom less than ten minutes to arrive, his presence filling the bar entrance like a storm cloud. His eyes lock on my face, jaw clenching as he takes in my disheveled appearance.
“Where is he?” His voice is deadly quiet.
“Romeo already took him home,” Milly explains. “They left through the back.”
Dom’s hands curl into fists at his sides. “So it was Con who hurt you before.” It’s not a question.
I can’t meet his eyes, can’t bear to see the anger there. He takes my arm gently, leading me outside to his car.
The drive home is silent except for my occasional sob. I curl into myself in the passenger seat, feeling Dom’s gaze flick to me every few seconds.
Inside the house, Dom guides me to the living room couch. “Are you hurt anywhere?” His voice is softer now, careful. I hate how nice he is when I’ve just set him up.
I shake my head, though my whole body trembles.
“Let me look at you.” He kneels in front of me, examining my arms, my face.
“Please don’t go after him,” I whisper. “Just...stay here.”
Something shifts in his expression. He sits beside me, and I lean into him, my head resting on his lap. His fingers thread through my hair, the gentle motion soothing my ragged nerves.
“I’ve got you, piccola,” he murmurs as my eyes grow heavy. “You’re safe now.”