Page 5 of Massimo

"Nova… Please look at me."

I lift my eyes. Her light crystal-blue eyes brim with what looks like regret and concern.

Oh, she's good. An award-winning actress.

But those thoughts don't show on my face. I remain like how my father has brutally molded me—demure, passive, and perfectly poised.

The Mancini Princess.

Gemma crosses her legs, and a long, tanned one peeks out from the split in her bright yellow, flowing maxi dress.

"You changed."

She glances down at her dress. "Yeah, the black, short club dress didn't really seem to be the right choice for a long flight, you know?"

She looks at me like she's waiting for me to laugh or agree.

I'm still wearing what I had on at the club—a brown, soft suede, one-piece romper with a halter-style top. It's a Jiya Miko design, my favorite, and I found it in a vintage store in Lake Como, even though it's not actually vintage.

"Here," Gemma says, and a bottle of water pushes into my view. "The sedative causes dry mouth; this will help."

I accept the bottle, open it, and take a long drink. Half-hoping it might be poisoned.

She fiddles with her water bottle while staring at me. "Don't you have questions?" I stay quiet. "Like, why you're here? Where you're going?"

She's coaching me to be a captive?

Likely because Gemma would fight like a wildcat against her captor and demand answers.

"Are you really doing your PhD in International Studies?"

"That's what you want to ask?"

"Yes."

Along with,was anything you told me the truth?Am I a complete idiot to think we had some kind of connection?

She glances away, and I have my answer.

Lies. It was all lies.

"Would you answer the other questions if I asked them?"

She turns back to me and shrugs. "Maybe not. But the point is that you ask them, Nova."

I turn back to the window.

"Aren't you going to yell at me?" she asks, and I feel the weight of her stare. "Aren't you going to demand to know why we kidnapped you and where we're going?"

"One hell to another. One trapped cage to another. One monster to another. What's the difference, Gemma?"

"For fuck's sakes," she grits. "Why are you just lying down and taking this?"

Is she for real? Like for fucking real?

Why would I fight back? To give the monster—or monsters, because she had saidwe—a reason to punish me? No. Thank. You.

"Is your real name Gemma Ricci?"

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