Page 68 of Passion and Revenge

“Have I told you that you’re a life safer?” he says. Then, he screams off the phone, “Veda, put Miss Marino down in place of that flighty American.”

“Bye.” I hang up hurriedly, and with an irritated groan, I toss the phone away from me, hoping it shatters into a million pieces so no one will be able to contact me again.

Climbing out of bed, I stagger to my bathroom and splash cold water on my face, then gargle mouthwash and spit.

I look like hell, and I feel like it too.

Dark circles ring my eyes, and my skin is wan and drawn.

I walk to my closet and pull out leggings and a bralette. Taking the purple lounge set off to replace it with my workout clothes makes me unreasonably sad.

Since my return, I’ve practically lived in the purple outfit I wore when I left Alessandro’s house. Sometimes, I swear I can still smell him on it, but I know it’s just my mind playing tricks on me.

I’m sluggish as I stick my earphones in and begin to trudge down the street. It’s already busy and buzzing with activity, and it feels like everyone who’s looking at me can tell I had my heart shattered by a deadly mafioso.

I keep my gaze fixed firmly in front of me as I jog down the path, sweat trickling down my back.

I try to mouth along to the rap music, but it feels as bland as everything else. I miss Alessandro, and time hasn’t succeeded in erasing him from my mind.

Memories of him are on a loop in my mind all day, and then at night, he still haunts my dreams.

I can’t even go to my favorite coffee shop anymore because he’s ruined it for me, just like he’s ruined almost everything in my life.

All of a sudden, my music cuts off abruptly, and the buzzing sound of an incoming call fills my ear. Holding up my smartwatch, I see that it’s my dad calling, so I let it go to voicemail.

I can’t deal with my father right now. Ever since I returned, he’s been extra sweet to me, hugging me often and asking me a million questions about everything. It’s a bit suffocating, but it’s also nice, I guess.

More than once, I’ve been tempted to ask Dad if Alessandro has anything to do with the change in him, but I’ve refused to say his name out loud. I’ve also refused to talk about the details of what happened during my captivity.

They’re worried now, and it’ll only get worse if I reveal how I fell into my captor’s bed with relish.

My legs begin to burn halfway into my normal route, and the sun is oppressive against my skin, so I turn right around and begin to jog home.

A tall figure unfolds itself as I approach my house, and for a second, my stomach clenches with excitement until I spot brown hair, jeans, and a leather jacket.

“Sal,” I say, trying to keep a placid expression. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to check up on you.” He flashes snowy white teeth at me and then holds up the bags in his hands. “And I brought you some food. Can I come in?”

My cheeks heat up when I remember what the inside of my apartment looks like at the moment. I look like a mess too, but I can easily sum it up to being sweaty from my run.

“Give me a minute,” I tell him. “I’m working on a painting, and I don’t want anyone seeing it till it’s done.”

“Oh, cool,” he says with a nod. “Your father says you haven’t been painting.”

I grit my teeth. “My father needs to learn to stop telling every damn person my business.”

He jerks back. “Come on, Si. I’m not just anyone.”

My smile turns brittle, and I dash into the apartment and quickly pick dirty clothes off the floor, dump them into the laundry basket, toss all the dirty dishes into the sink, and shut my bedroom door so the mess isn’t visible.

Then, I hold the front door open for him and mutter, “Come on in.”

His gaze moves around the house as he follows me to the table in the kitchen.

“I brought you different options, so you can just have anything you like,” he tells me, dropping the bags on the table. “Ivan said you’ve been cooped up in here, and your cupboards are empty.”

I make a mental note to tell my father to stop discussing me with my ex. I love my dad, but at some point, he has to accept that Sal and I are done.

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