“Is there anything we can do to change your mind?” Sapphire asked, her eyes full of sincerity.
I shook my head. “No. But if I need anything, I’ll let you know.”
They finally dropped the argument, letting me have my freedom.
“When are you leaving?” Conway asked.
“After lunch.” I was eager to get home and fix up the place. There was still a bloody knife somewhere.
“Have you thought about going to therapy?” My brother sipped his water, refusing to drink alcohol around Sapphire since she couldn’t have any.
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need therapy.”
“There’s no shame in it,” Sapphire said. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“I don’t think less of people who go to therapy, but I really don’t need it.” My father taught me to be strong, and I wasn’t letting some asshole make me feel unsafe. I got away when he kidnapped me, and there was no one in the world who had power over me. “Don’t worry about me. If I need help, I’ll ask.”
“No, you won’t,” Conway jabbed. “You never ask for help.”
I smiled because I knew he was right. I was far too stubborn, far too proud. But I liked being that way. “You’re right. But I promise you, I’ll be alright.”
The drive back to Milan felt longer than it normally did, probably because I hadn’t made the journey in so long. But it felt nice to be behind the wheel, to watch the countryside pass. It was overcast and chilly, but the weather couldn’t diminish the natural beauty of Italy.
My arm hurt a bit when I turned the wheel, but it wasn’t enough to make me think twice about it.
I spent most of my time thinking about my brother and Sapphire.
And how in love they were.
I knew Sapphire loved my brother for the man underneath the suit. She didn’t care about his money or his success. She put up with his bad attitude and bullshit and saw the goodness underneath. Andrew Lexington had offered her a great living in America, and she could have just stayed there.
But she wanted to be with Conway.
I wouldn’t lie to myself and say I wasn’t jealous. I was very young and still had nearly a decade to settle down and find Mr. Right. I was very picky, so it was important to take my time. Looks were important, but they weren’t everything. I was looking for a man similar to the men in my family—hard men who were strong and proud…with a bit of a heart underneath. That sounded so simple, but in reality, it was actually very hard to find.
Very.
And even if I did find a man I actually loved, getting my father’s approval would be another obstacle.
He was pickier than I was.
But nonetheless, I wanted to fall in love, get married, and start a family of my own.
It would happen someday. Beautiful things like that couldn’t be rushed.
My thoughts entertained me for the whole drive, and I pulled into the parking spot in my apartment complex. I almost never used my car, but my father insisted I have one. I grabbed my bags and stepped inside my apartment.
It was exactly as I left it.
The bloody knife was still on the kitchen floor, and I could even see the imprint of Knuckles’s body in the couch from where he sat. My apartment smelled differently, like his scent still lingered in the place.
I washed off the knife and returned it to the fridge—just in case I needed it again. Then I cracked the window to get some air in the apartment. It was way too stuffy, and it missed my feminine touch. I needed to go to the market and put out a few vases of flowers.
I stood at the counter and looked around, feeling alone now that I was home. I enjoyed my solitude and independence. I loved exploring the city on my own. I loved my friends and experiencing the unknown.
But anytime I left my family, it was like a piece of me was left behind.
I needed some time on my own, time to find out who I really was. But once my soul-searching was over, I knew there was only one place I wanted to be.
In Tuscany with my parents.
I pictured living there with my husband and kids, right down the road so we could all be together. The man I fell in love with would have to be okay with that, and if he really loved me, he would do that for me.
Even if I met him here—in Milan.