Page 82 of The Freedom in Captivity

Knock, knock.

Well, this got more exciting. More so, whoever’s on the other side is knocking, which implies requesting entry. Who the hell here wouldaskto see me?

I open the door, and my ex-stepsister stares back at me, her hair up, a mess compared to her pretty, blue sundress. In her hands is a tray of food, which my stomach greets with a grumble, the overpowering scent activating hunger.

“Can I come in?”

I step aside, catching the eye of a very angry looking guy on the other side of the doorway. He’s clearly throwing me a warning as his future mafia queen enters enemy territory alone.

I slam the door shut, my smirk a goodbye.

“What brought you to my humble abode?” I ask, turning in time to catch Della resting the tray of food on the nightstand. The lack of furniture in here doesn’t leave many options, which I’m sure was their plan.

“Wanted to check on you.” She smiles, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. She’s distracted.

“Well. Thanks.” Words evade me. After yesterday, I was certain my future would consist of soldiers, Nico, and perhaps his father when they decide my fate.

“What you did is appreciated. I’m sorry you went through all that. I never knew.”

And she still doesn’t know it all. “That was the point, Della.” I cross my arms, scanning her, studying her expensive dress, so different than the cheap clothing she once entered this life in, until my father showered her and her family with riches. “Remember when I dressed you for the party to get you into this place?

“Vividly.”

“Worked out for you.”

“Say what you want to, Rozelyn.” She lifts her chin a fraction, her jaw clenching. “You’re not jealous of my place here, because that’s not who you are. What are you getting at?”

“Nothing,” I tell her the truth. “Stating a fact, that’s all. Imagine if Dad didn’t have his insane plans. You’d never have met Nico.”

“That’s how I prefer to look at it,” she replies, her tone with slightly less bite than earlier. “Despite the darkness of our pasts, there’s always a light fighting to emerge. It’s what Nico is for me. What he can even be for you. You gave us what we needed, Rozelyn. Once he finds your father, this is over.”

I scoff. “Being over and gaining freedom are two different things.”

Della tips her head to the side, her lips pursed thoughtfully. “Nico won’t kill you.”

“He tell you that?”

“No, but he doesn’t have to. He didn’t kill me when I literally handed him over to his enemy, and that was before he loved me. He didn’t kill the solider assigned to protect his baby sister when learning they were having a secret affair. For all Nico’s claims, he sees the larger picture.”

I scoff again, shaking my head at her examples. Non-examples, if anything, because I don’t fall into any of those categories. Nico didn’t kill her because he was obsessed with her. Aurora’s bodyguard-turned-lover, based on Dad’s reports, is one of Nico’s friends and highly trusted soldiers. I’m simply his enemy’s daughter.

“Is that why you’ve come?” I shift the conversation slightly. “To reassure me with fake promises you don’t even have the power to keep.”

“I came to see if you’re okay after yesterday. Betraying your father probably wasn’t easy, and despite your motives, he still raised you. That means something.”

My heart pangs. She’s right. But sometimes the negatives outweigh the positives and with Dad alive, he brings too much harm.

“I’m fine,” I tell her. Anything to end her sympathy tour. “Go report to your husband I still don’t regret anything and I expect him to uphold his end of the deal.”

“He will.”

When she doesn’t budge, I demand, “There’s more to your visit, Della. Get it out. You always sucked at lying.” It’s shocking she managed to dupe Corsetti at all.

With a heavy sigh, she looks away, finding the window behind us, with the curtain I drew open earlier, so I could stare at the grassy land and the forest in the distance. “You all must think I’m oblivious. Nico and Ariella included. My sister once mentioned something about protecting me and I couldn’t figure out what she meant. Then you detailed your whole story, explaining how your father had so much mapped out, including meeting my mother. A single woman with two daughters. It’s like he was duplicating his own family.” Her eyes shift to me, the hint of a deep pink lining her eyes—tears forming. “He did it, didn’t he? He’s the reason she’s no longer here. He married my mother because of Ariella and me, and then when he had us in his grip, he had no further need for her.”

Fuck.Regardless of everything between us,thisI want to grant her the decency of being able to say. Of being able to have peace, aware her mother’s murderer will soon pay for his crimes.

A lie would be more beneficial because between every second of passing silence, her heart visibly cracks. She swallows rapidly, unblinking, and her brows lower with the emotional anguish. No one deserves to hear about and re-live their mother’s murder.

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