Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“He didn’t—”
I stop myself before I go too far. It just occurred to me that spilling information about Marcello might not be the smartest move. After all, I’m sure he’s looking for me right as we speak, and even though I hate that he never told me the truth … I don’t want to risk him getting caught.
“Hmm?” My mother pauses at the top of the stairs and throws me a glance.
“Nothing,” I mutter, and I look away.
“Well, just let me know when you change your mind,” she says, smiling. “You can tell me anything. After all, you are still my daughter, and I love you.”
Those words should fill me with warmth, but right now, all I feel is dread. And I gulp as she grabs my hand and guides me along into a room in the back.
Guards are literally everywhere—around every corner and next to every door—and it creeps me out.
“Here it is. Your new room,” Molly says, opening the door.
It’s gigantic. Well, at least compared to what I used to live in, way back before I landed into Marcello’s clutches.
The king bed in the middle of the room faces the big windows in the back, and a velvety black couch sits to the side. One door leads into an open closet, and another one has a lock on it, which I presume is the bathroom.
She quickly walks inside and opens the door, which indeed leads into a bathroom with marble tiles and a big tub in the back. She turns on the faucet and grabs a few towels.
“Normally, I’d let the maids do this, but I wanted to personally welcome you,” she says. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you that I don’t want to share that with anyone else.”
The gentle smile on her face makes me relax a little.
Maybe she isn’t as bad as I thought. Maybe my own experience with mobsters and fears of what could happen have clouded my judgment.
I enter the bathroom as she walks back out again and opens the closet to grab a few new clothes, placing them on the bed. “You can wear this. It should fit you perfectly.” She sounds so happy when she’s doing all this. Like she’s been waiting for so long. But it feels more like I’m some kind of pet, a plaything, than a real daughter.
While the water is still pouring into the bath, I look around the room and touch the expensive fabrics of the clothes she picked out for me. It’s so much more than I’d ever be able to afford. And the dump I’ve been living in really doesn’t make it easy to deny all this wealth and comfort that she so gleefully wishes to grant me.
Could I even say no if I wanted to?
My eyes draw up to the windows, and I notice the cameras hanging behind the curtains. My heart skips a beat. Panic swells inside as I check the other corners and find cameras there as well.
This isn’t just a room.
It’s a prison.
“I’ll leave you to relax a little. We’ll talk again later.”
I spin on my heels. She’s already gone before I can say another word.
And the door is locked behind her.
My eyes widen, and I quickly run to the door, fumbling the handle, but it’s no use. “Wait!” I call out.
“Just get some sleep, honey!” my mom yells back, but I can hear her footsteps as they move away from the door.
I bang on the door a few times and then stop, breathing out some fuming breaths.
Goddammit. I let her trick me into this.
I grumble to myself and stare up at the cameras, wondering who’s watching me. With those in place, I won’t ever feel safe here. But I don’t think I’ll have a choice in the matter. I’m stuck here now, and I know they’re watching my every move, waiting for me to try something.
Sucking in a breath, I walk back to the bathroom and shut the door behind me, then check for cameras. There doesn’t seem to be any, so I guess this is the only safe space I have.
Sighing, I sink down to the floor against the door. Anger makes me stomp the wood behind me, to no avail. I’m not going to fucking cry these tears she’s waiting for me to cry.
I didn’t cry for Marcello, and I damn well won’t for that woman I used to call “mother.”
The warm water fills the room with steam, the bath calling to me. So I get up, strip down, and sink into the water, forcing myself to put off whatever rage I have boiling inside and focus on the only thing I can do—wait.
Harper
Curled up in bed, I toss and turn, my restless body unable to calm after the recent flood of information. Even though I’m in a warm and cozy bed, it feels like I’m lost in the shadow, unable to focus on finding some peace or at least catch some sleep.