{ May 15 2021
She is gone. My brave girl has flown from this cage of vipers. I pray she stays hidden, stays safe. Marco suspects nothing yet, but when he discovers her absence, his rage will shake the foundations of Milan. I have destroyed all evidence of our plan, but if he looks closely enough, he will see my hand in this.
It doesn't matter. My life is a small price for her freedom.
If you are reading this, mia piccola, know that I regret nothing. The years I spent raising you were the greatest gift of my life. You deserved so much more than the destiny your father planned. So much more than Leonardo Russo's cold bed and colder heart.
Be free, my April. Live the life you choose, not the one chosen for you. }
I clutched the diary to my chest, tears streaming unchecked down my face.
Giulia had known she would die. Had accepted it as the cost of my freedom. And now that sacrifice had been rendered meaningless by my capture.
Page after page revealed her thoughts in the days leading to my escape, her careful planning, her fears, her unwavering determination to save me from the marriage my father had arranged. Her final entries spoke of Leonardo with a dread that chilled my blood.
{ I have seen what he does to anyone who displeases him. The dead eyes of the girls who warm his bed. April would wither under his hand, her spirit crushed like a flower beneath a boot heel
Marco doesn't see it, or doesn't care. He sees only the alliance, the power. But I have watched Leonardo since he was a teenager, climbing from the gutter into Marco's favor. There is a coldness in him that no amount of wealth can warm. A hunger no amount of flesh can satisfy.
God forgive me, but I would rather see April dead than in his possession}
The sound of the bedroom door opening jerked me back to the present. Leonardo stood in the threshold, earlier than expected, his expression darkening as he took in my tear-stained face and the diary clutched in my hands.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, his smile and voice dangerously soft.
I scrambled to my feet, backing away as he advanced into the room. "It was Giulia's. She knew what you were! ...what you'd do to me."
"Give it to me." He extended his hand, the command absolute.
"No." I clutched the diary tighter, this tangible piece of Giulia, the last person who had truly loved me, too precious to surrender.
Leonardo's smile widened. "That book contains dangerous sentiments April. Lies about me, about your father. About the arrangement we had."
"They're not lies if they're true." My back hit the wall. Nowhere left to retreat. "She knew exactly what kind of monster you are."
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes. "Monster?" He closed the distance between us, caging me against the wall with his body. "Your nanny was a romantic fool who filled your head with fairytales. There are no heroes and villains in our world, April. Only those who take and those who are taken."
Without warning, he snatched the diary from my grasp. I lunged for it, but he held it easily out of reach, his superior height making my efforts futile.
"Give it back!" I clawed at his arm, desperation making me reckless. "It's mine! It's all I have left of her!"
Leonardo caught my wrist in a bruising grip. "You're mine," he growled. "Not hers. Not anymore."
"Then why the hell did you….you knew I'd find it!!"
"...yes. I wanted to teach you this lesson Piccola Rosa."
He dragged me from the bedroom down the hallway, my struggles as ineffective as a child's against his strength. We ended up in his study, where a fire already burned in the massive stone hearth.
"No," I whispered, realizing his intent. "Please Leonardo...don't."
For a moment, something like hesitation crossed his features. Then his expression hardened as he tossed the diary into the flames.
"NO!" I screamed, throwing myself toward the fireplace.
Leonardo caught me around the waist, lifting me bodily away from the fire. I fought with everything I had, kicking, scratching, even attempting to bite the arm locked around my middle. The diary's pages blackened and curled, Giulia's words turning to ash before my eyes.
"You bastard!" I slammed my elbow backward, catching him in the ribs. The blow would have doubled over a lesser man. Leonardo merely grunted.
"Enough." He spun me around, pinning me against his massive desk. "You think this display of childish rage accomplishes anything? You think I care about your tears, your pain?"
"I hate you," I spat, the words tearing from somewhere primal and raw within me. "I will always hate you."
"Hate is closer to passion than indifference." His hand closed around my throat, not squeezing but reminding me of his power. "At least you feel something for me, Piccola Rosa."
I slapped him, the crack of palm against cheek echoing in the study.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. His cheek reddened where my hand had connected, his eyes darkening to the color of arctic ice. Then, with deliberate slowness, he began unbuttoning my blouse.
"What are you doing?" I gasped, trying to twist away.
"Teaching you a lesson." The buttons gave way one by one under his methodical fingers. "About consequences. About who holds the power here."
He peeled the blouse from my shoulders, leaving me in only my bra. I crossed my arms over my chest, fury warring with humiliation.
"Stop," I demanded, hating how my voice shook.
Leonardo ignored me, his hands moving to the fastening of my jeans. "When you act like a child, you get treated like one. When you throw tantrums, you face consequences."
My jeans joined my blouse on the floor. I stood before him in nothing but underwear, trembling with rage and something else I refused to name.
"Is this what gets you off?" I snarled, fighting to maintain my dignity despite my near-nakedness. "Forcing women to strip? Making them feel powerless?"
"This isn't about sex, April." His voice remained cool, clinical. "This is about ownership. About stripping away your defenses until you understand exactly what you are to me." His gaze raked over my exposed skin with detached assessment. "Beautiful, yes. Desirable, certainly. But primarily, mine. To clothe or unclothe as I see fit."
His fingers traced the edge of my bra strap, the touch raising goosebumps despite the fire's heat.
"I could take everything, right now. Bend you over this desk and show you exactly who you belong to." His voice dropped lower, almost hypnotic. "And part of you wants that, doesn't it? Wants to be overwhelmed, to have the choice taken from you so you don't have to admit your own desires."
"You're delusional," I whispered, even as my body betrayed me with a shiver that had nothing to do with cold.
Leonardo smiled, a predator's smile. "Am I?" His hand cupped my cheek, surprisingly gentle. "We'll see, Piccola Rosa. We have all the time in the world to discover exactly what lies beneath that righteous anger."
He stepped back suddenly, the loss of his body heat leaving me disoriented. "Get dressed."
I blinked, confused by the abrupt command. "What?"
"Get. Dressed." He pointed to my scattered clothing. "Unless you prefer to remain as you are?"
The mockery in his tone snapped me back to reality. I scrambled to reclaim my clothes, painfully aware of his gaze tracking every movement as I dressed with trembling fingers.
"Your hatred sustains you now," he said, watching as I fumbled with my buttons. "But hatred burns hot and fast, April. It consumes itself. What will be left when those flames die down?"
I met his eyes, chin raised despite my humiliation. "You'll never find out. Because I'll never stop hating you."
Leonardo's smile held a certainty that chilled me to the bone. "Time will tell, Piccola Rosa. Time will tell."
As I fled the study, the diary's ashes still glowing in the hearth, I felt something fundamental shift between us. A line crossed. A battle lost.
But not the war. Never the war.
I would find another way to fight. Another way to escape.
Because the alternative, submission to Leonardo's will, was unthinkable.
No matter what treacherous response his touch had awakened within me.