Page 34 of Deadly Don's Savage Vows

I did.

I walk to the window after checking the door and stare down at the street. It’s still quiet outside, but it’s growing darker as the sun sets.

People could hide anywhere. They could watch me.

I step away from the window and close the curtain.

Should I keep the lights off in the apartment?

Will it make any difference?

Where is Nico?

How long does he expect me to stay here?

Dante is crying again so I hurry back over to him and scoop him into my arms.

“I’m so sorry, little one.” I cuddle him into my neck, walking in circles around the living room.

Me holding him is still making it worse so I feed him and put him to bed. Then to distract myself I make dinner. I work, chopping vegetables, making a creamy sauce, boiling pasta - but I’m in adaze and I burn the sauce and forget to add the veggies to the pan.

It’s not as though I could have eaten anyway - not with how tight my stomach is.

I’ve never felt this kind of anxiety before. Not even the night I left Marcus - the night I ran away from our wedding.

At least back then I was making a choice, and I knew what that choice was. Right now I don’t know anything. I have no idea what is going on.

Scraping the destroyed, wasted food, into the bin I clean up. Cleaning is more soothing than cooking and for just a little while I’m clear-headed.

But once the dishes are done and there is nothing else to distract myself with the anxiety comes right back - deeper than before.

It’s pitch dark outside, ominous and dangerous.

I’ve only got one small lamp on in my apartment and it’s too bright. Like a beacon telling Marcus where I am.

It’s ridiculous. He would have been here already if he knew where I was - surely?

I should try to get some sleep. Like that’s going to be possible.

I snort a bitter laugh and it sounds too loud in my apartment.

“Calm down, Bella, come on.” I whisper to myself.

Peeking into Dante’s room I reassure myself that he is safe and cozy.

Then I head to the bathroom and flick the shower on.

Hot water kneads into my muscles, momentarily easing away a little bit of the tension locked inside my shoulders and neck.

I sigh, fighting tears, which no one would see beneath the spraying water. But that’s not the point. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to be this afraid.

I want to be strong and be able to face up to Marcus.

Another impossible idea.

Marcus would kill me.

Or worse - he would drag me back to his home and force me to live out my life with him.

---