broken trusts

FRANCESCA

“PLEASE, talk to me,” I plead, but it’s no use.

He storms into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The sound of the shower starting up follows shortly after.

I sink down onto the king-sized bed, squeezing my eyes shut until it hurts. A small sob escapes my lips. Without him, I feel so alone.

I feel vulnerable, like I could be attacked at any moment and I wouldn’t have any protection. He was my shield, my protector. I always believed he would keep me safe. But now he’s gone.

I need him back, and it’s for the most selfish reasons.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to myself. “I didn’t have a choice.”

But I did. I chose my sister over him—over the Family. And I hid the fact that the police had contacted me. Why did I have to make things so complicated? I could’ve just told him.

I sigh, feeling exhaustion cloud my vision as I crawl onto the bed. I wait for him to come out so I can talk to him, convince him that I would never betray him.

“I’m so sorry.”

***

I wake up with a start. It’s been days since I last had that nightmare. But now it’s back. I grip the blanket tighter and glance outside.

The blinds are closed, but I can tell it’s morning. I feel like I’ve barely slept, even though the small digital clock beside me reads five o’clock.

I nearly scream when I see Antonio sleeping next to me, his back turned towards me. He’s wearing a loose white T-shirt and black sweatpants, half-covered by the blanket.

I want to touch him. I want to convince him. But I don’t, knowing it would wake him up and make me seem clingy and desperate. He needs his sleep.

Antonio and I always share the same bed. There’s no cuddling or anything, but it feels normal. This time, though, it doesn’t. It feels strange, like he’s sleeping next to me out of obligation.

I stifle a yawn and get up, forgetting that I’m still in my dress. My skin itches and I feel dirty, like I haven’t showered in days.

I walk over to our bags that are still on the floor. I pull out a white wool sweater and pair it with black jeans.

I grab my towel and head for the bathroom, but not before taking one last look at my husband.

The bathroom is luxurious. I’ve always loved bathrooms, especially elegant ones filled with an array of shampoos and accessories like this one.

I brush my teeth before turning on the tub tap. I need a long, peaceful bath. I need to relax.

VALENTINA

~back in America~

Valentina Bianchi—the lost Bianchi princess—giggles with delight. “Shut up, loser!” she yells at her best friend, Mason.

“No, you!” he laughs back.

Their laughter echoes through the park. It’s almost sunset, but they stay.

Mason sighs. “It’s getting dark. We should head home,” he suggests.

Valentina rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know why you want to ditch me.”

Mason looks confused. “Why?” he asks.

“Because you want to call your girlfriend!”

Mason rolls his eyes. “I don’t have a girlfriend. If I did, you’d be the first to know, Olivia. Plus, it really is getting dark.”

Valentina cringes at the name. For some unknown reason, she and her family moved and decided to change their names.

Valentina always knew something was off with her family. She knew her father was a powerful man. She also knew he was married to someone other than her mother and refused to divorce.

She was angry at him for that. But she didn’t understand why they were running from him. All she could guess was that her father was a criminal.

Valentina was worried about her older brother. He was only two years older than her, but she remembered him coming home with blood on his shirt in the middle of the night when he was just fourteen.

Hence, the identity changes. But Valentina didn’t understand what was so special about this part of America that made her mother feel safe. Here, she could finally roam without bodyguards.

Mason snaps his fingers in front of her face. “What…?” She trails off. Did he say something?

“Let’s go. I’ll walk you home.”

Valentina stands and stretches. “Nah, it’s fine. My house is close.”

“You sure, Olivia?” Mason asks.

Valentina smiles at him. She likes him. He’s handsome. Unlike her auburn hair, his is light blond and often falls over his eyes.

He needs a haircut, but he looks good either way. His eyes are dark brown like chocolate cookies and his skin is tan from spending a lot of time in the sun.

If she’s honest, she really does want him to walk her home, but she can’t risk it. If her brother, Valerio—who goes by Matteo here—saw him, he’d be dead.

Her brother is overprotective of her. It’s a bit hypocritical, since she suspects he has a girlfriend himself.

Sometimes she hates being the youngest. Everyone is so overprotective. But then there are moments when she appreciates the protectiveness.

Valentina says goodbye to her new best friend and crush before heading towards her new home. The sun is setting, painting the sky orange and red. It’s a beautiful evening.

Valentina doesn’t pay much attention to the eerie silence as she walks into the alley leading to her house.

It’s a shortcut. She turns up the music in her AirPods, oblivious to the fact that a stranger has been watching her for a while.

Before she can react, her mouth is covered and her scream is cut short as something pricks the side of her neck, drugging her into unconsciousness.

In her last moments of consciousness, she catches a glimpse of the man before she’s thrown into a trunk.

FRANCESCA

I step out of the tub with caution, reaching for a towel to dry my hair. I’m relieved that I remembered to bring my clothes this time.

Jeans aren’t really my thing—I’m more of a dress girl—but I have to admit they look pretty good on me. The gym my father insisted I join has definitely paid off. Plus, it’s chilly and I need the extra warmth.

Soon, I make my way out of the bathroom. Antonio is awake, shirtless, and engrossed in a text conversation on his phone.

He looks up as I enter the room, but quickly returns his attention to his phone. After firing off one last text, he tosses his phone onto the bed, rises, and strides past me without a word.

A groan escapes me as he exits the room. This is ridiculous. I know I messed up, but does he really have to give me the silent treatment? It only makes the situation more uncomfortable.

I broke his trust, that’s true.

But let’s not forget—he broke mine too.