I have a scheduled session with Dr. Alessandra today. Our discussions cover various topics, even those that are not necessarily traumatic for me. Sometimes we delve into challenging moments in my life, while other times we focus on happier experiences. However, one topic we have yet to explore is my childhood.I provided her with some background information about my childhood. Like many others, I experienced a difficult period following my mother's death when my father caused me harm. This is the extent of what I have shared with Dr. Alessandra thus far. Prior to that, I hadn't revealed much because, to be honest..."You look incredible, Maddie. Your happiness is palpable, and your radiant smile is a testament to that. During our last conversation, you were stressed due to issues with your husband. I assume you have resolved those matters?""Absolutely!" I exclaimed joyfully. Our relationship has truly flourished, and I recently discovered that Marco feels the same way too. The though
Upon returning home, I went straight to our bedroom. Perhaps Marco noticed my silence, but he didn't disturb me. I needed this solitude because my mind was consumed by numerous thoughts.As I settled into bed, Marco pulled me close, comforting me with his presence. I clasped his hand, seeking reassurance in the darkness, desperate not to feel alone.Unable to bear the silence any longer, I mustered the courage to break it. "Marco, what was your conversation with Dr. Alessandra about earlier?" I inquired, my voice betraying my longing for answers.I could feel Marco's warm breath on the back of my neck as he responded, "Don't dwell on it. It wasn't anything significant-"Interrupting him, I shifted my body to face him directly in the dimly lit room. "Is it possible that my father's abuse didn't start after Mama's death? Could he have been hurting us even before she passed away? And what about Mama? Is it possible that my father caused her death, rather than an illness?”For quite some
I was taken aback by their final statement. Did my father really kill Mama? How could this be? I glanced at Marco, but he remained fixated on my father as the police escorted him away. But Mama passed away from an illness, right? Wasn't that the truth? Did it mean that my suspicions about my father were correct?The weight of this realization hit me, and I instinctively covered my mouth."What? I never killed Olivia! I would never hurt my wife!"I observed my father's resistance as the police guided him out of Marco's office. It was hard to comprehend as he vehemently denied any involvement in Mama's death."I am innocent! I did not cause Olivia's death! I am the one being wronged here! Why are you arresting me?" My father's words were directed at Marco. "Moretti, you're a heartless monster! You hold me captive without any evidence! Release me! I am innocent..."His plea was abruptly cut short as the office door shut.The room fell into silence, and I remained in a state of shock, eve
That evening, I conveyed the message from Papa to Marco. He reassured me, promising that he would ensure nothing unfortunate happened and that Papa wouldn't escape justice. He vowed to prevent Papa from getting away."You know, I used to pray for liberation from Papa's abuse. And now that he's imprisoned, I still struggle to find inner peace. It's as if, even though I know he can no longer harm me, his presence continues to haunt me." It's a part of my traumatic experience. If you have endured a lifetime of pain, I can't fathom the depth of it. Despite undergoing therapy, there are certain memories that are challenging to erase.Marco enveloped me in a tender embrace, our hands intertwining as he gently caressed my thumb. A smile formed on my face. It's still surreal to comprehend that he loves me. It all feels like an enchanting reverie."We each carry our own inner scars, Maddie. If you haven't experienced trauma, consider yourself fortunate. It's common for people to dismiss the st
The next morning, as I woke up, I realized Marco was no longer beside me. My instinct told me he had probably left for work. But there was a heaviness weighing on me, the residue of the conversation we had the previous night. I was grateful that he had opened up to me, allowing me a glimpse into the painful memories he carried. However, it also saddened me deeply to think that such a tragic event had shaped his childhood.To imagine a young child, barely ten years old, compelled to witness the murder of his own grandparents - it was beyond comprehension. The sheer brutality and trauma inflicted upon him remains unimaginable.Despite our different upbringings, the experience of watching loved ones perish right before your eyes, especially when they sacrificed themselves to protect you, leaves a profound scar. I wish I could have conveyed to Marco that he bears no blame for what occurred. But the truth is, no matter how many reassurances I offer, he continues to shoulder the burden of g
I WAS OVERCOME with sadness upon hearing the news. The question, "When are you leaving?" weighed heavily on my emotions. Lucille and Renzo had become close to me, and now I was faced with the sudden news that Renzo would depart. I couldn't help but inquire further, asking, "And for how long?"Renzo reassured me, saying, "I'll still come back as your guard, Ma'am. I just don't know how long this assignment will take."The uncertainty of his return lingered in my mind. I expressed my genuine disappointment, replying, "Oh, that's quite unfortunate, Renzo."As I leaned back in my office chair, a wave of sadness washed over me. I looked at Renzo with a sorrowful expression, and he responded with a restrained smile, saying, "Take care, Ma'am Maddie. Until we meet again."And so, that's how it unfolded. Now, Carter and Finley are my new guards, but I find myself disliking them. My disappointment stems not only from knowing how much Marco trusted Renzo, but also from finding the replacements
My head throbbed as I gradually regained consciousness, my senses awakening in tandem. To my dismay, I found myself bound to a chair, my hands tightly restrained behind my back. Though my feet were free, I pondered why they hadn't tied them as well. Above me, a glaring light illuminated the room, reminiscent of those interrogation scenes from dramatic soap operas.Without missing a beat, I discreetly pulled out a small cutter nestled up my sleeves, a tool I always kept at the ready for situations just like this. Its inconspicuous nature allowed me to bypass metal detectors effortlessly, and its concealment was equally effortless.Just as I began attempting to sever the ropes binding my hands, the door abruptly swung open, interrupting my covert endeavor. My focus shifted to a man who stood before me, his face partially obscured. I furrowed my brows at him, my expression betraying no hint of the escape plan I was secretly concocting."Hello, Mrs. Moretti," he greeted me, his words ring
As I grappled with my emotions, one thought consumed me: I had always sensed there was more to Marco and his organization than met the eye. My knowledge ran deep, but my unease persisted. Why did this man's words unsettle me? It felt as though he possessed insider information, guarded secrets Marco himself hadn't revealed.Then, with a chilling shift in his gaze, he shattered my preconceptions. "Your father isn't responsible for your mother's death. He lacked the means to commit such an act. And no, my dear, Aunt Olivia didn't succumb to an illness," he revealed, his voice dripping with mystery. My heart skipped a beat upon hearing those words. "She was murdered."The revelation struck me like a bolt of lightning, crackling with a mixture of shock, confusion, and grief. Questions swirled in my mind, demanding answers. Who would want to harm my loved ones, and why? Suddenly, the veil of ignorance was lifted, thrusting me into a dark and treacherous world I never knew existed.Ronan sto