Giorgia ~
"Ranunculus or roses? What do you prefer?" Mother asked, her tone void of emotion, her eyes distant as they wandered around my room. She was here to discuss wedding decor with me, likely because Father insisted.
We both knew she wasn't interested in my opinion, just as I wasn't interested in giving one. This was just another formality in a wedding that felt more like a transaction than a celebration.
I stared at her, seated at the edge of my bed, and shrugged. "Ranunculus."
"Fine." She flipped through the catalog with a briskness that spoke volumes about her disinterest. Her heels clicked against the floor as she turned to leave without another word, leaving behind nothing but silence and the faint scent of her perfume.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind Mother, I slumped into my chair, staring out the window. The silence felt suffocating, the weight of the wedding preparations pressing on me. I didn't want to think about any of it, but I had no choice.
There was a knock at the door, followed by the creak of it opening. I didn't move or bother to turn and see who it was-I already knew. Antonio's footsteps were silent but deliberate, his presence unmistakable. He didn't say anything at first, probably expecting me to turn and acknowledge him. When I didn't, he finally broke the silence.
"Javier's coming today," he said, his voice as impassive as ever. "You'd better be ready."
Again, he waited for my reply, as though there was anything left to say. As though I had a choice in the matter-like I could refuse to see him. My gaze stayed fixed on the world outside the window, the weight of his silence pressing down on me.
"How does it feel, Antonio?" I asked, my voice low and distant, barely more than a whisper. "How does it feel to watch someone else pull the strings of your life?" I finished, my words sharp and bitter, like the sting of an old wound. I still didn't turn to face him, unwilling to let him see the turmoil in my eyes.
I knew Antonio's hands were bound just as tightly as mine. He may have carried the weight of authority, but even he wasn't free. We were all just pieces on someone else's chessboard, moved and sacrificed as they saw fit.
Antonio's silence lingered, but it wasn't empty. It was heavy, filled with everything he wouldn't say. His silence stretched on, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer at all.
"It doesn't," he finally said, his voice steady but quieter now. "You stop questioning it after a while."
I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "Is that what you tell yourself to make it easier?"
"No," he admitted, his tone softening. "It's what I tell myself to survive."
The honesty in his voice caught me off guard, and for a moment, I almost turned to face him. But instead, I stayed by the window, letting his words settle over me like a shadow I couldn't escape.
And with that, he left, his footsteps fading into the silence. I stayed where I was, staring blankly ahead, lost in the whirlwind of thoughts that had haunted me for the past two years. Two years that had slipped by like sand through my fingers, leaving only regrets and broken pieces behind.
The sharp ping of my phone pulled me back to the present. I reached for it, glancing at the screen. A text from Daniel. Of course.
In these two years, he had reached out countless times, always with the same demand - money. I had been right about him all along. Daniel had never cared about me, not truly. I was nothing more than a means to an end - my money, my body, my vulnerability.
And yet, I couldn't cut him off. He had the leverage to keep me tethered to him. Pictures. Innocent moments that, to the outside world, would seem harmless - us kissing, laughing, curled up together. But in a world where I wasn't even allowed to look at a man outside my family, those pictures were weapons. Weapons he wielded effortlessly, chaining me to a reality I couldn't break free from.
I opened Daniel's text, expecting yet another demand for money. But this time, it wasn't about money - he wanted to meet. For a moment, I couldn't process what I was reading. Why now? Why, of all days, did Daniel want to see me when Javier was due to arrive?
Frustration bubbled up inside me. I hated my life. Why did everything always have to collide at the worst possible moments? Javier could show up at any second, and I couldn't just leave the mansion without raising suspicion. Father would never allow it, not with Javier on his way.
I glanced out the window at the world beyond. It looked so peaceful, so inviting - a freedom I could only dream of. For a fleeting moment, I wished I could leap out of the window and escape it all.
But I couldn't. I had to meet Daniel. There was no other choice. And yet, the thought of Javier arriving while I was gone sent a chill down my spine. He'd ask for me. Of course he would. And when he found out I wasn't here, chaos would follow.
My fists clenched at my sides as frustration and dread twisted in my chest. I hated this. I hated all of it. I freaking hated my life!
My mind raced, desperate to find a solution. I needed to get out of the house - and fast. The sooner I left, the sooner I could return. Maybe I could ask Martina for help. Two heads are better than one, right?
But then I hesitated. Martina would insist on tagging along, and I couldn't drag her into this mess again. I'd taken that risk once before, and it had nearly blown up in my face. I couldn't make the same mistake twice.
"Come on, Giorgia. Think!" I muttered under my breath, pacing the room like a caged animal.
And then, as if a light bulb flickered on in the chaos of my thoughts, an idea struck me. It was risky - reckless, even- but it just might work.
I dressed swiftly, my heart pounding as I descended to the small sitting area beside the living room. Father stood near the floor-length window, his voice terse and decisive as he spoke into the phone. Stefano sat casually on the sofa, flipping through a stack of papers with his usual air of nonchalance.
As I entered, Stefano's eyes lifted to meet mine, and his lips curved into his usual charming smile. Stefano was my uncle's son, a few years older than me, and closer to Antonio's age. He was probably the only person alive who could read Antonio like a book; the two of them were practically inseparable.
Father ended his call abruptly, his eyes narrowing as they landed on me. "What is it?" he asked, cutting straight to the point.
"I need to visit the shoe designer," I said, keeping my voice steady despite the nerves tightening my throat. "The final design was supposed to be ready today."
Father's face soured immediately, irritation already flashing across his face. "You know Javier is arriving any moment. You can go later."
The annoyance in his voice sent a familiar pang through me. If my presence was such a burden to him, why not disown me entirely? Anything would be better than being married off to that monster.
"It won't take long," I pressed, keeping my voice calm despite the frustration clawing at my chest. "I'll be back before Javier arrives. Maybe even before he notices."
Father's scowl deepened, his temper already fraying. I could see the storm brewing in his eyes, I braced myself for the inevitable explosion. But before he could lash out, Stefano's smooth voice cut through the tension.
"I'll go with her," he said, his tone casual as he set the papers aside.
Father turned to him, his brows furrowing.
"It's just a pair of shoes, Uncle," Stefano added, leaning back against the sofa with an easy smile. "No big deal. And if Javier arrives before we're back, he can wait. This is Vegas, not Miami. He doesn't get to snap his fingers and make the world move."
For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then, slowly, Father's lips curled into a smirk, his anger dissipating as Stefano's words sank in. A chance to get under Javier Rodriguez's skin? Of course he couldn't resist.
"Fine," Father said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Go."
I exhaled a quiet breath of relief, shooting a grateful glance at Stefano. He gave me a sly wink in return, as though this entire exchange had been a game only he knew how to play.
But hell, now I had Stefano with me. I'd made it through the first level with his help, but getting him off my back was another challenge altogether. "Happy?" he asked, his voice light, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. His gaze, unwavering, bore into me, as if he could see right through my forced smile.
"Very happy," I replied, my words dripping with false cheer. The subtle raise of his brow told me he didn't buy it for a second.
We slid into Stefano's sleek midnight black Mustang GT, and as we drove toward the mall where the shoe boutique was, I could feel his silent scrutiny lingering, weight pressing on my chest, too heavy to ignore.
After about twenty minutes, we arrived at the mall. Stefano parked the car, and we made our way to the escalator, heading for the upper floor. I entered the boutique, its elegant glass shelves lined with designer shoes sparkling under soft lighting. The faint scent of luxury leather filled the air. As soon as the staff noticed me, they approached with warm smiles.
"I was expecting you, Ms. Torrini," the saleswoman said in a gentle tone. "Please wait here for just a moment; I'll get your pair of shoes."
With a nod, she quickly disappeared into the back of the store. Stefano and I settled onto a nearby sofa. His gaze drifted absentmindedly around the boutique, the least bit interested in what was happening, but I couldn't fault him- he chose to be here, after all.
A few moments later, the woman returned, a neatly wrapped paper bag in hand. She handed it to me with a polite smile. "Thank you," I said and we left the boutique.
Stefano moved toward the escalator, eager to head back down, but I stopped him. "Stefano, I still have something else to do."
He shot me a bored look, the corners of his mouth twitching in disapproval. "It won't take long," I assured him, my voice firm yet apologetic. With a sigh, he shrugged and followed me as I walked in the opposite direction.
We stopped in front of Victoria's Secret. I didn't say a word, just tilted my head slightly to glance at Stefano, who stood behind me. Making direct eye contact felt weird-after all, we were literally standing in front of a lingerie store. He didn't look at me either. Obviously. I was his sister.
"Don't take too long. I'll be waiting outside," he muttered, keeping his gaze anywhere but on me.
I nodded and stepped inside.
Now, my real plan had to move fast. I needed to be quick, cautious, and make no mistakes. Without hesitating, I made my way toward the emergency exit tucked away in the corner. A store employee spotted me and rushed over, probably ready to stop me-until she recognized who I was. Her expression shifted instantly, and she stepped aside without a word.
The second I pushed through the emergency exit, I found myself in the parking lot. Wasting no time, I walked out of the mall and scanned the street for a cab. The location Daniel had sent me was some run-down, dirt-cheap motel. The irony wasn't lost on me-I had sent him more than enough money to afford a stay at the most luxurious hotels in the city, yet this was where he chose to be. Whatever. I just needed to get this over with.
Stefano wouldn't follow me inside the store. No way. He'd rather die than stand around while his sister shopped for bras and panties. That alone guaranteed me a solid window to escape.
Finally, I spotted a cab and slid into the backseat, giving the driver the address.
Javier had spent two years avoiding me - two whole years - and now, out of nowhere, he wanted to meet? Yeah, something about this didn't sit right. The whole situation felt off, like a trap waiting to spring.
The cab slowed to a stop, and when I looked out the window, my stomach twisted.
Oh. My. God.
The place was beyond disgusting. I stepped into the lobby, and hell, it was filthier than a garbage dump. The floor was stained with God-knows-what, and the walls looked like they hadn't been cleaned in a decade - or two. A thick, nauseating stench clung to the air, a mix of stale alcohol, mold, and what I was pretty sure was rat shit.
Swallowing down my disgust, I made my way to the reception desk, where a middle-aged man sat with an ugly scowl plastered across his face. The second he noticed me, surprise flickered in his dull eyes.
"How can I help you, ma'am?" he asked, flashing me a grin that showed off his yellowed teeth.
I barely held back a grimace. "I'm here to see Daniel Branco." I made damn sure not to touch the desk.
He grunted in acknowledgment, tapping sluggishly at his keyboard before nodding. "Yes, Mr. Branco stays here. I'll give him a quick call."
Reaching for an ancient-looking telephone, he dialed a number and held it to his ear. "Mr. Branco, there's a lady here who wants to see you." A short pause. "Okay, I'll tell her." He hung up with a loud clack.
"He said to go up to his room. Room 102."
I gave a sharp nod and turned toward the stairs, my skin crawling as I walked through the dimly lit hallway. This place was an absolute dump. Not a single woman in sight, and every man I passed leered at me like I was fresh meat. My grip tightened around my bag as I quickened my pace.
Reaching Room 102, I knocked once. The door swung open immediately, like he had been waiting.
Daniel stood there, looking like he hadn't slept in days. His face was gaunt, dark circles prominent beneath his tired eyes. A cigarette dangled lazily from his lips, its smoke curling around his face. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of loose shorts.
He pulled the cigarette from his lips and flicked it to the grimy floor, crushing it under his bare foot. His lips curled into a wicked smile.
"Long time no see, Giorgia," he murmured.
"Come in."
He stepped inside, leaving the door open for me to follow.
The room was as disgusting as the rest of the motel. The air was thick with the stale scent of cigarettes and cheap alcohol. Empty liquor bottles and crumpled cigarette packs littered the nightstand, and the ashtray on the table was overflowing. The sheets on the bed were twisted and stained, and there was a foul dampness in the air, like the place hadn't been aired out in years.
Daniel stood near a small, wobbly table, pouring himself a drink, his back to me.
I had no time to waste. "What is it, Daniel? Why did you call me here?"
He paused mid-pour, then slowly turned to face me, his dark eyes scanning me like a predator sizing up its prey. He walked toward me, his movements unhurried, deliberate. I resisted the urge to take a step back.
God. I couldn't believe this was the man I once loved.
Stopping just in front of me, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. A cold shiver ran down my spine. I immediately stepped back, putting space between us.
His smirk deepened. "What? Now my touch disgusts you, huh?" His voice carried a sharp edge of bitterness.
I didn't answer. Instead, I folded my arms, keeping my expression blank as I met his gaze head-on.
His amusement faded. "Don't act too smart with me, Giorgia. I know exactly who you are - Enrico Torrini's daughter."
Shit.
I had hoped he wouldn't know.
"Cut the crap, Daniel. Tell me why you called me here." My patience was running thin. The longer I stayed, the more dangerous this became.
He chuckled, shaking his head as he turned back to his drink. "Alright, alright. I'll get straight to the point-since the soon-to-be bride doesn't have much time."
I clenched my jaw.
"I want you to supply me with drugs," he said casually, as if he were asking me for a favor.
My brows furrowed. "I already give you plenty of money. Buy whatever you need yourself."
"Oh no, not for me, sweetheart." He swirled the liquid in his glass before taking a slow sip. "I want your drugs. The ones your father owns. I'll sell them outside at double the price."
I stared at him, disbelief washing over me.
Was he insane? Stealing my father's drugs wasn't just reckless - it was a death sentence.
"Absolutely not," I snapped. "If my father finds out, there'll be hell to pay."
His smirk widened. "Is that worse than him finding out about your pictures?"
My blood ran cold.
My nails dug into my palms as I fought the overwhelming urge to slap that smug look off his face.
"If you think I'm going to help you with this, you're dead wrong," I said, my voice firm. "I've already done enough of what I shouldn't have."
There was no way in hell I was going to do this. Consequences be damned. If Daniel wanted to show the pictures, then so be it. I wasn't playing his games anymore.
I took a step back, then turned to leave. But before I could take a single step, Daniel's hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me back with a force that sent me stumbling. Before I could react, his other hand wrapped around my throat, and in one swift, brutal motion, he threw me on to the filthy bed.
I gasped, my body hitting the stained mattress with a loud thud. I had never seen Daniel this violent before - his eyes burned with something dark.
"You don't want to give me the drugs?Fine," he sneered, towering over me. "Then I'll take what I should have taken a long time ago."
Panic surged through me as he grabbed at my clothes, his rough fingers clawing at the fabric. I struggled but he was stronger. My chest tightened, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps. Tears blurred my vision as terror wrapped around my throat like a noose.
No. Not like this.
With every ounce of strength I had left, I swung my arm and slapped him hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the room. His head snapped to the side but before he could recover, I drove my knee up - straight to his groin.
Daniel let out a strangled cry, doubling over as he clutched himself in pain.
I didn't waste a second. Scrambling off the bed, I grabbed my purse from the floor and bolted toward the door.
I barely made it two steps before he lunged again, his fingers closing around my wrist like a steel trap.
"Let go of me!" I snarled, and without thinking I sank my teeth into his hand.
He roared in pain, jerking back and that was all I needed.
I tore out of the room running blindly out the hallway and through the disgusting lobby. My lungs burned, my breath came in ragged gasps, but I didn't dare stop.
Daniel would be after me.
Reaching the main road I frantically waved at passing cars, praying someone would stop. My heart pounded so hard I felt like it could burst.
Then a sleek white Porsche pulled up beside me.
I didn't think.
I ran toward it, throwing a glance over my shoulder just in case Daniel was right behind me. My pulse thundered in my ears as I bend down near the passenger window, desperation spilling from my lips.
"Can you please hel-"
OH HELL NO!!!