Page 70 of Savage Seduction

Marco returned past midnight. Laying in my bed, I heard him come in. I had not returned to his room because it felt weird to be in there without him.

I expected he would come to tap on my door when he came upstairs, but he did not.

I listened to the sound of him showering in his bathroom next door, and then all was quiet. He had not come to get me. For the first night in two weeks, I slept alone.

Breakfast next morning was a quiet affair, with everyone lost in their thoughts while little Amara chattered and asked several times if Auntie Chiara would be coming home today.

My heart ached at her need for reassurance. She clearly sensed somehow the near loss of a dear family member, even though the adults were so keen to protect her from what had really happened.

Marco ate in a rush, then gave me a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. “I have lots to do today. I’ll be home mid-afternoon when we bring Chiara home.”

So I went to spend the morning with my Mom, and then bought some flowers and fruit and came home in time for Chiara’s return.

I had half expected her to be in a wheelchair, but she walked in the front door looking her usual self.

She scowled at the bouquet and fruits I had left on the hallway table and said, “I’m not an invalid.”

I flushed, though she had directed the comment at her mother, not realising the gifts were from me.

Vittoria said with faux cheeriness, “You are an invalid as far as I’m concerned. I want you back in bed and resting for the rest of the day.”

“How are you feeling?” I asked from where I was standing nervously down the hallway.

She shrugged. “Okay, I guess. It was nothing. Stupid really.”

Before I could say another word, Vittoria herded Chiara past me towards the stairs, deliberately turning her back on me, making it clear with a single withering glance that she did not want me to follow.

Chiara must have been tired because she didn’t shrug her mother off like she was often likely to do.

“There’s a good girl,” said her mother.

Chiara scoffed. “Well, I wouldn’t want Marco to think he has to carry me up the stairs or anything!”

Marco chuckled. He put his arm around me, and smiled fondly at his sister.

“She okay?” I whispered, glad to have him home and actually smiling again.

He half nodded, half shrugged. “Seems to be back to her usual huffy self.”

But when Marco and I went up to his room together, he shut the door and leaned his forehead against it, and gave a deep sigh, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He did not turn to face me.

“Hey!” I said, putting my arms around his waist, hugging him from behind. “Are you okay?”

His body was so tense, slightly shaking as if he didn’t want me to see how he was feeling.

I kissed his back, stood on tiptoes to kiss the nape of his neck, whispered to him that everything was okay now. That she was back home safe.

I made him turn around so I could kiss his beautiful face.

I led him to his bed, and we sat there, him letting me hold him.

I stroked his hair, whispered, “It’s not your fault,” in his ear.

Until he finally said, “But it is my fault.”

He sounded so much like he believed it that I was stricken.

I shook my head. “You didn’t choose this life, Marco. It was forced on you after what happened to your father. You didn’t choose for those awful people to break into your house and terrify Chiara that night. None of this is your fault.”