Page 18 of Bittersweet Endings
While my period was late, it wasn’t surprising with all the stress I’d been under. But I could feel it coming between the cramps and sore breasts. Guess the powerful Ragetti doesn’t have aspowerfulsperm.
The afternoon turned to drinks, playing catch-up, and avoiding certain topics like the plague. It seemed like no time had been missed as we laughed about the good times and I talked to them about my new place. My new plans.
“I can totally picture you running your own business.” Sienna smiled proudly. “I might not know publishing, but if there is anything you need, just let me know.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it. Right now, it’s all in the start-up phase, but I’ve met some independent authors who could use my funding and support. Well, I met them before I…” I sighed. “My attorney is following up to see if the relationships are salvageable.”
“That’s amazing, Octavia. You’ve been busy thriving since…” Bella paused.
“Since I was stolen, broken, and put back together?” I raised my empty glass to the waiter, needing another. “Since I was an idiot and got my heart broken by the enemy.”
“Okay, I’ve waited. But…” Sienna seemed to consider her words for a moment. “What… what happened, Tave?”
Tell her.The thought slithered into my mind, uninvited, but persistent. My sister deserved the truth, didn’t she?
Sitting at the table while staring into two mirrors I couldn’tavoid, I clasped my hands so tightly together that my knuckles ached. If I bared the darkest parts of my heart, would it change anything? Would they look at me differently like the rest of the family had?
Or would it only destroy us? Because Sienna would never understand. Not this. Not Carmine.
To her, he was the enemy. It was where he started and whereweended. That was all he would ever be to her. The man who’d stolen me away. The reason our family had been thrown into chaos, turning their beloved sibling against them. No amount of justification would ever make Sienna see him as anything but a monster.
Tell her.The thought hit heavier this time. If I didn’t, Sienna would never really understand him. She would never understand that while it felt like a betrayal, I loved him all the same.
“Fine.” I didn’t give them all the details, but I walked them through my captivity.
Describing the side of Carmine I saw that no one else could. How he helped me kill Rick and freed me from my internal hell, from hiding behind their walls of fake protection.
That he fucked with my mind… and my body.
“I just wanted to protect you,” Sienna said.
“And I appreciate that. Sort of.” I finished another drink, feeling the liquor settle in my limbs. “But those days are behind us and no one will control me again.”
“Lucky thinks…” Bella started at the same time Sienna said, “Apollo is…”
“I’m aware. They both think I’m hiding something. Here’s the thing you can send back home to your men.” I took a large sip of my fresh drink. “They can’t stop me from what I am planning to do.” I chugged the rest of my glass and stood from the table.
“And what are you planning, Octavia?” Sienna asked, the two of them looking concerned.
“Getting my life back. And enjoying my revenge…on everyone.”
Their flinches were noticeable, but I turned to walk off.
“Apollo is throwing me a party. At the club.”
I paused.
“I’d love for you to come.”
“I’ll be there.” Standing tall, I said goodbye as Rocco followed me out to the idling car at the curb. The hair on my neck rose with the feel of someone watching me. I turned and froze as I watched a large man walk in the opposite direction.
A motherfucking Ragetti spy—AJ. They just couldn’t listen, could they?
Since Carmine let me go, I’ve felt like I was teetering on the edge of a cliff. Across the canyon, Carmine was giving me his devilish smirk, challenging me to grow a pair. Behind me, my family was desperately trying to get me to step back. And finally, I felt like I’d tugged myself free from all of them.
I closed the distance and leaped into the air. Their shouts and concern fell behind me as the fiery pits below opened up. Scarred. Burned. And fucking resurrected. Octavia, the Agostino’s little doll, little plaything, was dead and buried. Rising from the ashes, I was a fuckin’ siren with a death wish.
No one was safe from the twisted plot I was weaving. No one. Maybe not even myself.
