Terrified. I was completely terrified. I turned and ran back to the mansion. On the terrace I collided with Kiara, and we had to grip each other to keep our balance. My eyes met Nino’s—he was standing behind her as always—and for a moment I was sure he’d attack me, but Kiara pulled away from me.
“Hey, are you alright?” she asked, touching my arm, looking concerned.
I nodded jerkily.
“You sure? Did Remo do something?”
Did he? Or did I? The lines were getting blurry. Remo was right. Every day I was here things got more complicated. Captivity broke me, only not in the way I thought it would.
Nino’s gaze moved past us. I knew whom he was seeking.
“No,” I whispered in reply to her question.
Kiara frowned. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”
“Kiara,” Nino warned.
“No,” she said firmly. “This is getting ridiculous. Serafina won’t hurt me.”
She took my hand and led me inside where she pushed me down on the sofa. Remo and Nino remained outside. I could hear the low rumble of their voices. It sounded as if they were in an argument.
Kiara handed me a glass of water then sat down beside me. “Is it because of your brother? Nino said they allowed him to return to the Outfit. That’s good, isn’t it?”
I nodded. It was. My brother. My family. The Outfit. My fiancé. I owed all of them loyalty. I owed them resistance and a fight.
“Serafina?” Kiara touched my thigh.
I met her compassionate gaze and touched her hand. “I’m losing myself.”
Her eyes widened then flitted to the French windows. “You know, I was completely terrified of Remo in the beginning. But I saw sides of him that made me realize he’s more than brutality and cruelty.”
“Remo is the cruelest man I know. He is beyond redemption.”
She smiled sadly. “Maybe he just needs someone who will show him the path to redemption.”
I laughed harshly. “I hope you don’t think that’s going to be me. The only path I’ll show him is the road to Hell. I hate him.”
Kiara squeezed my thigh but didn’t say anything. I was relieved when Nino took me up to my room, not Remo.
I traced the line of the healed cut on my forearm, wishing it were still fresh, wishing Remo would hurt me again. More than that, I wished I didn’t need that kind of reminder because Remo Falcone was beyond redemption. I shouldn’t need reminding.
The next day Remo and I did our longest run so far despite the exceptionally hot late August sun. We both needed to relieve pent up energy it seemed. We hardly spoke. I tried to keep my mind blank, tried not to think of my family who was suffering because Remo refused to make a new demand. Guilt became harder to bear every day. The guilt over not suffering the way I should be.
My eyes registered a shadow above our heads. A large black and white bird of prey with a red head. “Look,” I panted. “There’s your spirit animal. A vulture.”
Remo stopped and laughed. A real laugh. Not dark, taunting, or cruel. “Good to know you find me that repulsive.”
I wished. He took a bottle of water from the small running backpack and handed it to me. God, how I wished I found Remo’s body repulsive. I took a sip of water then handed him the bottle back.
“When are you going to ask my uncle for Rocco Scuderi?” I asked to distract myself and him.
Remo’s expression hardened, his eyes returning to the sky. “Vultures wait for their prey to drop dead. I think the Outfit’s almost there.”
“You can’t win this game. The moment you return me, the Outfit will rise and strike back. An endless spiral of violence will start.”
“Why would you say that, Angel? Don’t you want to be returned? Danilo is waiting eagerly to wed and bed you.”
I followed the large bird’s flight, wondering how it would feel to be free like that. A marriage to Danilo seemed so unreal in that moment, so far away, when I had already been less than forty minutes away from being married to him. That girl in the beautiful white wedding dress, she felt like more of a stranger every day. My eyes were drawn to my hand, but the ring wasn’t there. For the first time since my engagement to Danilo, I’d forgotten to put the ring on in the morning.
“One month,” Remo reminded me as he led me through the garden.
It took me a moment to understand what he meant. “Since you captured me,” I said quietly.
One month. Sometimes it felt so much longer, sometimes like only yesterday. I had never thought I’d survive a single day in the hands of the Camorra, in Remo Falcone’s hands, and now I’d survived so many more. Remo was more patient than I’d thought. I was fairly sure my family and the Outfit was at a point by now that they’d hand Scuderi over, even if my grandfather disapproved. He was an old man close to death.