Page 36 of Wicked Rivals

Men were expected to bleed for their families, die if necessary. Women were expected to go along with it all if they wished to be honored, expected to live in obedience, opening their legs and keeping their mouths shut.

I had worked so hard to keep Enzo away from this life, yet here we were.

At least he was safe. For now.

I would stay close to him, be there whenever he needed me. But without literally saying the words, he’d asked me for a little space, and I would give him as much as I could.

His slightly smaller room would be just fine since it still connected the two of us. I didn’t like it, but I could live with it for his sake.

As the maid led us through and pointed out various things to Enzo, I propped the doors open and ensured all the locks were disengaged.

When it came time for Enzo to go to bed, I knew it would be an entirely sleepless night for me. I would be up all night without even trying, listening for any sound or disturbance.

No big deal, though. Because that provided me the perfect opportunity to solidify my plans for our future, including how my son and I would leave this beautiful cage and run to our new life… where no one would ever be able to find us.

Not even Stefano.

Just before the maid left us, I touched her arm to stop her.

“Hey, I didn’t get your name.”

She smiled. “Bella… I’m Bella.”

She shut the door behind herself, and Enzo sighed.

“I want to go to sleep, Mama,” he said with the faintest whine curling the end of his statement.

I nodded and pointed at the bathroom behind us.

“Okay, buddy. At least brush your teeth.”

He nodded back and did as I asked without another word.

I wanted to talk to him. And cuddle him. I wanted to explain everything, but I didn’t know where to start. I doubted he was ready to listen. I’d kept secrets from him, and now he knew it.

Once I had him tucked in beneath the luxurious down comforter, I headed through the bathroom to my own room, but stopped to draw myself a bath instead. I closed the door between my son and me, thought better of it, then cracked it open a little. Then I turned on the faucet and stripped down.

As I sank into the large clawfoot tub, quickly filling with steaming water, everything I’d been holding in burst out of me without warning.

Maybe it was the roar of the faucet masking all other sounds that made my letting go feel safe. Maybe it was the instant burn of the hot water melting into my tense muscles. Maybe I’d just run out of strength to keep it together.

I sobbed in the bath, releasing all the frustration, anger, and fear from my body, mixing it into the hot water. Then eventually, it would all drain away together.

I knew even before the first tears fell, it wasn’t sadness for the life I’d lost that night or grief over the childhood stolen from my son. No, the sadness would come later, when it was time to mourn what we’d left behind.

And mourning could only happen when we were safe.

In this life, Valerie and Enzo Salera were dead.

Angelo and Victoria Salvatore could grieve for them when it was all over.

That night, I cried to purge all the excess emotion I couldn’t let Enzo see. To clear my head, so I could think.

When the tub was full, I turned off the tap, stopped crying, and put myself back together. That was all the time I gave myself to cry—only until the bath was full, hiding it beneath the sound of rushing water. Mynonnahad taught me this trick, and I used it more times than I could count.

More times than Enzo would ever know.

We must never let the men see us cry. They view it as our weakness and use it as a weapon against us.

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