I fall asleep much quicker than I anticipated, the day's events taking a toll on me. This excitement has really become too much for me to handle. It's like Alessandro's appearance in my life has sparked some volcanic reactions that I would have loved to avoid in the past. I'm still not sure if all of it is worth it for the feeling of being alive. Feeling dead was much less complicated. I dream of two little girls playing in a deserted house, no parents to feed them or bathe them, or give them the simple touch of a parent's love. I feel someone in my room before I see them. My hand slowly goes underneath my pillow to grab the small pocketknife I've kept there since I was ten years old, and as soon as the person touches the comforter, I lift the knife to stab anywhere that I can. but a strong hand grips my wrist and then the room is flooded with light from the bedlamp. "What the fuck?" Alessandro hisses down at me before letting my wrist go. "Oh, it's you." I release the bre
"No!" Sammy's eyes ping pongs between me and Alessandro as we stand and argue in front of her and Enzo. I have to say Enzo is extremely professional, standing to the side like a statue, staring in front of him as if he's not in the company of two crazy people. "You have completely lost your marbles now!" I go on. "Enzo is just here to drive you around when I can't." Alessandro is extremely calm compared to my volatile mood. "Phoebe is in the hospital, with Enzo around you don't need to wait for anyone or take a cab." He had to bring up Phoebe, he now knows that she's my weak spot. Men like Alessandro Moretti get more powerful because they prey on their opponents' weaknesses. "I think you might have mistaken me for Raquel Whittle! In case you forgot, I'm used to getting around on my own. " I walk up to Enzo. "You may leave, I will not be using your services." But Enzo doesn't even so much as move a muscle. "He doesn't take orders from you, so you can't tell him to leav
The thing about sketeltons is, is that it always come up to the surface. No matter how well you bury them, or how well you conceal the evidence, the truth always comes out. Like the time I stole two chocolate bars at the convenience store because both Phoebe and I were so hungry. My mother hadn't been home for two days and we already ate everything we could. I thought I got away with it when a hand stopped me at the door... Wait. The doctor the night that asshole hit Phoebe. It was her, she stopped me at the door that night and told me good girls don't steal. I remember feeling so embarrassed, but my stomach was growling and she must have heard because she bought us a loaf of bread and cheese, plus the two chocolate bars. Then she walked me the two blocks back to my house and asked me where my parents were. I told her they went to work, and about a week later child services came knocking on our door and took us away. The group home we were placed in was terrible, so we lied
My hands are clammy and I sit on them to stop them from shaking. "What's wrong with you?" Phoebe asks, giving me the side eye. I spent some money from the absurd amount sitting in my bank account and bought her a full kit of makeup. She refrained from asking me how I could afford it because she probably knew I got it from Alessandro. Sammy is sitting dutifully on the other side serving as a model. "How do you know you love someone?" A pair of green and a pair of blue eyes turn to me, making me feel even more uncomfortable. But who the hell am I supposed to ask these questions to? I'm certainly not going to ask Alessandro. "I loved my high school boyfriend." Sammy speaks up. "You never told me you had a boyfriend." I'm surprised. "Well, you've never been interested in boys, so I didn't think you'd care." She shrugs. "Of course I care." I say softly. "Gosh, have I been such a bitch?" "No, you were just always very focused." Sammy smiles, but I'm sure it's just so I won
Alessandro Moretti is a conniving man. One that orchestrates the world so that everything can fall into place the way he wants it to. And right now what he wants is me, so he's eliminating all potential threats. First, he got Sammy that job interview, then Phoebe a job at the club and a gig on a reality show. And just when Sammy got a bit worried about me not spending time with her, he invited his friend over for dinner. A friend beyond famous in the entire world, who people very rarely see out in public. Alessandro Moretti is a fucking mastermind. Or a psychopath who I really should run far away from. Yet I'm glued to his side, enthralled as I watch him interact with Evan Micheals. "So how do you two know each other?" I ask the question that is burning in both my and Sammy's minds. Evan blushes adorably as he looks at Sammy from underneath his eyelashes. Well, well, well. What do we have here? "Alessandro saved me from getting beat up in high school once." Evan repli
"Is it really necessary for a wheelchair?" Phoebe moans as I wheel her out of the hospital. "Are you not supposed to be grateful for going home?" I retort. "No, it was fun in the hospital." She looks back up at me, pulling a face. "And there was a hot male nurse who gave me foot massages." "Wow, they really gave you the royal treatment." "All thanks to your boyfriend." She chuckles. "Have you given up the goods yet? I was thinking you shouldn't keep him on his toes and on edge. We might get a luxury vacation next." I don't know if she's being serious or mocking me, but I don't ask because Enzo is already waiting out front. Alessandro and I have reached some sort of impasse. I haven't brought the fact back up that he has eyes on me at all times, but I'm still not satisfied with it. He did promise to give me some space when Phoebe gets discharged. Then there's still the little fact that I haven't told him about the football game yet, I can already see his face when he hears
Phoebe and I are sitting next to each other on the couch as if we're in the principal's office, Alessandro sitting opposite us, that frown still marred on his forehead. Phoebe's leg is bouncing nervously, a sure tell-tale sign that she has something to hide. Alessandro narrows his eyes at my calm demeanor, he knows I have no tell in stressful situations. That's what makes me dangerous. "How do you know who John Campbell is?" I want to know. He tilts his head at me. "I've made it my mission to know everything about you." "And why is that?" I can see him slowly losing his cool with me, but he inhales deeply to center himself. "You know why." "So you can sleep with me?" I taunt him. "Get the bragging rights that you're finally the man that got what no other man could?" He's quiet, just looking at me, a myriad of emotions flashing in those beautiful brown eyes. He didn't get to where he is by letting his emotions get the best of him, so he turns his attention to the easi
"Is he the only one?" The question hangs in the air amongst the three of us and Phoebe looks nervously at me through tear-filled eyes. "I do not, nor will I ever regret killing John Campbell." I tell Alessandro. "He preyed on innocent children and when he got the chance, he raped my sister, so I did society a favor." "What did you do with the body?" Alessandro wants to know. "Why do you want to know? So you can use it against me in the court of law?" Alessandro gets up swiftly from the couch. "You're meeting my family tonight, I'll pick you up at seven." With those words he leaves, with me and Phoebe sitting there and wondering if this encounter truly happened. Neither of us has ever told anyone what happened with John Campbell. I had to hold a crying Phoebe for almost a year after the incident. In my opinion, justice was served. Had we gone to the police, they would have done a rape kit, made her sit through court hearings, possibly testify, and relive the horrendous mom