Chapter 6
Zita picked up almost right away.
When she heard my voice, she relaxed.
“Weren’t you flying to England? Why are you back in New York?”
“Cynthia called me from your phone-she said you two argued, you ran off, and she couldn’t find
you.”
“She was worried something happened. What’s going on?”
“I’m… okay…” I barely got the words out before my throat tightened.
“Friends argue sometimes. That’s normal.” Zita said gently, sensing something was wrong.
“You two have been close for so many years. That’s rare-you should cherish it.”
“But if it’s really a matter of principle, don’t sell yourself short.”
Tears streamed down my face. I bit my lip hard.
“Zita, whatever she says, don’t believe it. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back soon.”
Zita chuckled softly. “Got it. Don’t worry. If she calls again, I’ll just tell her you never called.”
She reminded me again to stay safe while I was out, and not to worry about them.
By the time I collected myself, Salvatore knocked at the door, carrying a bowl of pasta.
I thanked him, “Don Vitelli… do I still look like her?”
He paused for a moment, then smiled.
I felt uncomfortable and self-conscious under his gaze, like he could see right through me.
But I had no choice. On my own, I could never contend with Cynthia and Orlando.
He was right. Fate had put him in front of me, and I had to seize it.
“Sorry for offending you back then. That was on me.’
My heart sank.
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“Whatever you want to do, I can help you.”
I asked him, “And the conditions?”
He smiled again.
“You wouldn’t feel right without an exchange, would you? Let me think… I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
He gave me half a sleeping pill. I drifted into a haze, asleep until nearly noon.
It felt like I had been dreaming the entire time, yet I remembered nothing-only a crushing exhaustion.
Salvatore handed me a new phone.
“I’ve taken care of yesterday’s news. The videos and photos are gone-nothing online.”
“I’ve also had my men keep an eye on your sister. You can tell her that yourself.”
I gave her a small smile. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he said.
“About the conditions… I’ve decided.”
“Once you’re recovered, come with me to visit an old woman. You’ll need to pretend to be Francesca.”
Francesca Barone-his first love.
All these years, he had been supporting and caring for Francesca’s grandmother, who suffered from Alzheimer’s.
I nodded. “That’s it? Nothing else?”
He gave a helpless smile. “If I think of anything later, I’ll let you know,”
I called Zita again. Cynthia had told her that if she couldn’t find me, she would call the police.
I wanted to report it too. If she posted the photos she had taken of me, they would serve as evidence.
I dialed my own phone.
Cynthia picked up. “Willow, is that you?”
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i hummed in reply.
“You’re okay? Where are you now?”
I let out a light, bitter laugh.
“Were you hoping the police would find my body after I’d been raped?”
“Willow-” Orlando took the phone from her, his voice low and furious.
“Who was the man who took you? How do you know him?”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
