Sleep clings to me like a heavy fog, my body weak from the past few days. Matteo has been gone for days, but true to his word, he texted me. The messages were light—teasing, almost. He’s still keeping me at arm’s length, but for the first time, I think he’s trying.
My stomach twists violently, another wave of nausea forcing me still. The bathroom has become my second home, the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl an unwelcome comfort. Something is wrong with me—but what?
The door slams open, a sharp burst of sound shattering my half-asleep haze. “Maria!” Ginny’s voice cuts through the fog, dragging me back to reality.
Crap, I forgot she said she was coming over today.
“Ginny.” I sit up in the bed and look at her. “How did you get in?”
“You told the concierge I was coming. And besides, I saw your maid leaving and she told me you were sleeping the day away.” She looks over my weakened body. “You look terrible.”
I try to smirk, but it comes out more like a grimace. “God, you’re always obnoxiously beautiful.”
She crosses the room quickly, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. As she reaches the bed, her hand presses against my forehead. “You’re burning up. How long have you been like this?”
“A day, maybe two?” I mumble, closing my eyes against a fresh wave of nausea. “Emily has been taking care of me. She brings me tea and soup and makes sure I take some medicine.”
She is a literal godsend.
Ginny’s lips press into a thin line. “Has Matteo been here? Does he know you’re sick?”
The mention of my husband’s name sends an unexpected flutter through my chest. “He’s… away on business. I didn’t want to bother him.”
I barely have time to react before she plops onto the edge of my bed, her signature smirk in place. “I think you need out of this bed and some fresh air. What do you say?”
I let out a groggy sigh, rubbing at my temple. “The thought of leaving my bed does not sound the slightest bit appealing.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “You need some fresh air, some girl time—something other than being cooped up in this sky castle.”
I hesitate, shifting against the pillows. The thought of stepping outside doesn’t tempt me, but Ginny has been nothing but kind. Ever since the gala, she has checked in every now and then.
I do need to get out.
I sigh, finally pushing myself up. “Fine. But if I pass out in the middle of lunch, it’s on you.”
Ginny grins. “Deal. Now, get dressed.”
By the time we’re seated at a cozy café in the city, I realize just how much I did need this. The sound of people chatting around us, the clinking of silverware, the scent of freshly baked bread—it’s a stark contrast to the suffocating quiet of the house.
Still, as I stir my drink absentmindedly, I can’t shake the unease resting at the back of my mind. Ginny, ever perceptive, tilts her head. “You’ve been fidgeting since we sat down. Spill.”
I let out a slow breath, tapping my fingers against the rim of my glass. “It’s Matteo.”
Ginny raises an eyebrow. “Shocker.”
I feel a flush creep up my neck, averting my eyes from Ginny’s knowing gaze. “It’s just… things have been different lately. Not bad different, just… I don’t know.”
Ginny leans forward, her voice lowering. “Different how?”
I bite my lip, considering how much to reveal. “He’s been… softer, I guess? We’ve been texting while he’s away. Nothing serious, but it’s more than we have done previously.”
“Hmm,” Ginny hums, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “And how do you feel about that?”
How do I feel? Relief, certainly. A tentative hope. But there’s something else, something I’m almost afraid to name.
“I’m… confused,” I admit finally. “Part of me wants to believe this means something, that maybe he’s starting to see me as more than just an obligation. But another part of me is terrified of getting my hopes up.”
Ginny nods slowly, her eyes softening with understanding. “That’s natural, Maria. You’ve been through a lot with him. If I could tell you the shit my husband put me through.” She lets out a low laugh. “These men are hardened, shaped by a world that’s never been kind to them. It takes them time to show affection. I saw the way Matteo looked at you at the gala. He may not admit it to himself yet, but he is in love with you.”
“In love?”
My heart skips a beat at Ginny’s words. In love? The idea seems so far-fetched, yet a small part of me clings to it desperately.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I murmur, tracing patterns on the tablecloth. “He’s just… trying, I think. It’s more than I expected.”
Ginny leans back, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Oh, honey. You’ve got it bad too, don’t you?”
I open my mouth to protest—but the words never come. My pulse stumbles every time his name lights up my phone. His touch lingers like a ghost long after he’s gone. Maybe I don’t need to say it. Maybe I’ve known all along.
“I… I don’t know,” I admit quietly. “Everything’s so complicated. Sometimes I think I’m starting to understand him, and then he pulls away again.”
I take a sip of my drink, letting the warmth spread through my chest. “It’s not just that. I’m scared of… of wanting more. Of letting myself feel something for him.”
“Because of who he is?” Ginny prompts gently.
I nod, my voice barely above a whisper. “Because of who he is, what he does. Because I know that in his world, attachments are dangerous. And not to mention Beatrice…”
Ginny’s eyes soften with understanding. “Ah, Beatrice. The ghost that still haunts the Davacalli home.” She reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “Maria, you can’t live in her shadow forever. You’re not her replacement—you’re your own person.”
I nod, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. “I know that, logically. But sometimes… sometimes I feel like I’m competing with a memory. And how can I possibly measure up to that?”
Ginny leans in, her voice low and intense. “By being yourself. Beatrice was Beatrice, and you are you. Matteo married you, not her ghost.”
I let out a shaky breath, mulling over her words. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just… hard sometimes.”
“Of course it is,” Ginny says, leaning back in her chair with a sympathetic smile. “But you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Maria. I’ve seen it.”
I offer a weak smile in return, grateful for her unwavering support. “Thank you, Ginny. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
As we finish our lunch, the nausea that had momentarily subsided returns with a vengeance. I press a hand to my stomach, trying to will it away.
Ginny notices immediately, her brow creasing with concern. “Maria, you’re pale again. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nod, though the motion makes my head spin. “Just feeling a bit queasy. It’ll pass.”
But as we stand to leave, a wave of dizziness washes over me. I stumble, grabbing the edge of the table for support. Ginny’s arm is around me in an instant, steadying me.
“Crap,” she says, her voice laced with worry. “Maybe we should get you home.”
I nod weakly, letting her guide me out of the café. The fresh air helps a little, but my stomach is still churning uncomfortably. We walk toward the car, with Tony waiting nearby. He looks bored—until he sees Ginny helping me. Then, he jumps into action.
“What happened?” He crosses the remaining distance and relieves Ginny of her crutch duties. “Mrs. Davacalli, are you all right?”
I nod. “I just need to lay down. Take me back home, please. Ginny, I’m so sorry about this, I…”
My words die as a shadow falls over me. When I lift my gaze, my breath catches. Daniele. His eyes pin me in place, sharp and unreadable. He moves toward me, slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in.
Tony tenses beside me. “We should get you into the car.”
I shake my head and pull out of his hold. The nausea still persists but I am able to push it back as much as I can in order to focus my attention on my stepson as he comes to a halt in front of me.
“Well, well. Step-mommy. Out and about without your leash. Does Daddy know?” Daniel sneers my way. “Ginny, I didn’t take you for the type to be around harlots. You are meant to be the upper crust of the mafia world. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”
“Watch yourself, Daniele,” Ginny snaps. “What are you doing here? Last I heard, Daddy gave you an ass-whooping for straying.”
Daniele’s nostrils flare. “Funny, I heard that you are running from your husband because you caught him red-handed with the maid—what a sad cliché.”
“Watch yourself, Daniele.” I try to sound intimidating but my voice has drained of all its power.
Daniele steps toward me. “You look like you’re already halfway to the grave, step-mommy. Should I give you a push? Trust me—it’d be a mercy, considering what you’re about to learn.”
His joke is sick and twisted, and I want to slap him, but Tony pushes my wrist down.
“You may be the boss’s son, but say one more threat, and I will personally hand your ass to you, Daniele.” Tony plays the role of bodyguard to perfection.
“I only come bearing some words for my step-mommy, Tony, no need to get your panties in a twist.” Daniele cuts his gaze to me. “The name you wear now, Maria? It’s heavy, drenched in blood—maybe even your own. Watch your back. The wolves? They’re starving.”
I open my mouth to demand answers, but Daniele is already walking away. My throat locks up—no sound escapes. The world tilts violently. My skin turns clammy, my pulse erratic, pounding too fast, too loud. One step. Then another. My vision tunnels, black dots swallowing my sight. A gasp—Ginny’s voice warps into a distant echo. My knees buckle. The last thing I feel is weightless free fall. Then—nothing.
Fear doesn’t reach me. Pain doesn’t touch me. Only regret. I never told Matteo how much he means to me. And as the darkness swallows me whole, I wonder—did I wait too long?
