“Katarina—”
“If you really care about me, beyond wanting to possess me for some fucked-up reason, you’ll give me the space I need. I’m going with Lucy. Her security will watch out for me.”
“Going where with a De Sanctis?”
“Away. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
“Wherever you go, I’ll find you, little stray. Like it or not, you’re my wife.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You’ll come around,” he ground out.
“No I won’t... unless you show me you’re worth not giving up on. I need time; you’ll give it to me, or our story is at an end. I need to know my choicesmatterto you. I need to see that you’re not like them. I won’t swap one prison for another. I’ll die first.”
Then I hung up and cried. The ice in my chest shattered and broke into a thousand shards. My initial freezing paralysis had burned out and melted at hearing his voice. Spitting my venom at him had cleared my heart of anger, and now there was only disappointment and sadness. Sadness for what had happened. Sadness for my sorry life. Sadness for my mother.My mother.Just the thought of her lying in the cold, hard ground for two years, without anyone to visit her grave, twisted my heart into pieces.
I cried and cried until my soul felt wrung out and exhausted.
I checked the time when my eyes cleared enough to see. I had to go.
I got to my feet, my knees weak. I swayed against the bed, unconsciously gulping long breaths of the air that smelled like Massimo.
“Wherever you go, I’ll find you, little stray.”
Right, he was the master at that, but I had a hunch that he had help. I untangled the chain around my neck carefully, pulled it free from my hair, and placed it on the covers. The dog tags had become a symbol of safety to me. Something to grip onto when the world felt too much. When I was alone and lost in the dark. The small crucifix twinkled, nestled beside the tags. Me and him, together on one chain. I should take the littlecross off and take it with me. I should, but I didn’t. I couldn’t bear to remove it. I left it there.
I pressed a kiss to my fingertips and then stroked my fingers over his name.
Then I turned around and left.
I had toldLucy I’d meet her on the street outside the townhouse. I waited, watching for the familiar sleek black car that Nina drove her around in.
The traffic was busy, winding slowly up the road. Ice slicked the pavement in places where the snow had started to melt.
Florence.
Could I really go there and leave Massimo behind? Would he really let me? I had to know the answer to that. It mattered more than anything.
After a while, a black car pulled up, and I made my way toward it. It stopped and turned its blinkers on, blocking the road.
I reached the rear passenger-side door and opened it—and then stopped.
It wasn’t Lucy in the back seat.
Not at all.
Sergei, director of Centrium Group, sat against the plush cream leather.
I just stared at him, making no move to get into the car. What the hell was he doing here?
“Katarina, I’m so relieved to find you safe and well,” he called out.
He made a move to get out, and I backed up, ready to run. I glanced around. I didn’t see anyone else about to close in.
“Why are you here?” I asked numbly.
“I was looking for you. I’ve had a lot of people searching for you.”