Chapter 50
50
Victoria
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and my bare feet hit the cold floor, making a chill run up my spine.
Socks would be nice right now. Where did they go? I could have sworn I fell asleep in them…
As I start to search the bed, a knock sounds against the wooden door.
It’s not him.
That much I know for sure.
The knock is too soft. It’s almost polite. Probably a staff member, most likely female.
My suspicions are proven correct as I cross the room, pull the door open, and see Marta, one of the maids, staring at me.
Her gaze flicks over my face, searching, then she offers a slight nod toward the hallway.
“You’re needed downstairs.” Her fingers twist the edge of her apron.
My throat tightens. “Needed by who?” It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who is beckoning me, but I still ask.
Marta’s lips transform into a straight line, and her eyes dart left toward the staircase.
“By… him,” she breathes, and her words hang heavy in the air.
“I’ll be right down. I need to freshen up p>
She bows her head in understanding before stepping back.
With that done, I head into the bathroom and go about making myself presentable. Using the toilet and then brushing my teeth. After I’m decent, I step out into the hallway and head to where he is.
For some reason, the staircase feels longer today, and don’t even get me started on the stairs.
Time seems to stand still as I move, and my heart beats so fast, I fear it might explode.
Once downstairs, the foyer is dim, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust, but then I see him.
Lorenzo stands by the front doors. Ominous as always, but he’s not alone. His dumb friend Rafe is with him.
Rafe stands with his shoulder against the wall, eyes tracking everything with a bored look. Typical.
On the other side of the foyer is Nico. He’s probably the only guard who’s done anything remotely nice for me. So at least his presence doesn’t piss me off even more.
Lorenzo’s gaze snaps to mine the second I step off the last stair. It’s like his body is wired to my existence.
His eyes drag down my body, starting at my feet, then up my sweatpants, until they lift back to my face.
“You look comfy.” He adjusts his cuff, like we’re discussing the weather.
I stop at the edge of the foyer, letting my spine go straight. “I look like I just woke up, which I did p>
Rafe’s mouth twitches. He wants to smile so badly, but probably doesn’t because his friend might kill him. Nico’s expression stays neutral, but his gaze flicks to Lorenzo.
Lorenzo takes a step closer, and the space between us shrinks in a way that makes my pulse climb my throat.
“You’re adorable,” he deadpans.
“Call me adorable again,” I snap, folding my arms tight over my chest, “and I’ll bite you p>
Lorenzo’s mouth curves, slow and sharp. “Promises before breakfast. I’m blessed p>
I force myself to breathe. “Why are all the guards here? Planning on killing someone p>
Lorenzo glances toward Nico without turning his head fully. “Because I’m taking you somewhere p>
I freeze so hard my ribs ache.
Somewhere.
“Like outside p>
Lorenzo nods, not giving anything up until he’s ready to, or at least until I ask the right question.
“Where p>
Lorenzo’s gaze holds mine. It’s steady and unblinking. “Your parents p>
My brain actually stutters. Like short-circuits completely.
Did he just say he’s taking me to my parents’ house?
My mouth opens, and nothing comes out.
Rafe shifts, clearing his throat, probably reminding me that I’m standing in the foyer with my mouth open.
I swallow hard. “Why p>
Lorenzo’s shoulders lift in a lazy shrug that doesn’t match the sharpness in his eyes. “Because you’ve been throwing a tantrum, and it’s getting annoying p>
My fingers curl into a fist. “So this is, what? A treat? You’re taking me for a walk like a dog p>
“Of course not…” His mouth parts into a smirk. “Dogs are loyal p>
I flinch without meaning to, and Lorenzo, the fucker, watches the flinch and loves it.
Then he steps back, as if granting me air is a privilege. “Get dressed. Something more suitable for the public, but also something you can run in if you decide to be stupid p>
My jaw tightens. “Are you threatening me or giving fashion advice p>
His mouth kicks up. “Both p>
Rafe laughs but tries unsuccessfully to cover it up with a cough.
I glance at Nico because my brain wants an ally, even when it knows better. “And him p>
Lorenzo follows my look, voice turning colder. “Nico escorts you. You don’t leave his sight. You don’t talk about where you’ve been. You don’t say my name at all p>
My teeth grind together. “As if I’d ever willingly talk about you p>
Lorenzo’s eyes gleam. “If you behave, maybe this won’t be your last excursion p>
I stare at him for another beat, then spin on my heel and head back up the stairs before I do something that ends with me bleeding on marble.
In my room, I dress fast in jeans, boots, and a sweater. I drag my hair into a knot and stare at my reflection. Not bad.
A knock comes again, and like before, it’s soft.
Not Lorenzo… thank God.
I open the door to find Marta holding my coat. Her fingers are trembling as she offers it to me.
“You’re going out?” she whispers.
I take the coat and pull it on slowly. “Apparently, I’ve been granted a day pass from jail p>
Marta’s lips part, then close again. She wants to say something.
“Don’t. It’s fine.” I give her a small smile before I walk past her into the hallway.
Once downstairs, the air feels colder and heavier. Lorenzo stands by the door.
His gaze drifts over me, then stops on my face with something like satisfaction.
Why? No clue. But something tells me he’s going to tell me.
“Good,” he drawls, opening the door. “You listened p>
“As if I had a choice,” I snap, stepping past him into the winter bite. Outside, Nico stands by the car.
“Ready?” Nico asks Lorenzo.
“I’m ready,” I say as if I have a say.
No one here listens to anyone other than Lorenzo.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Nico says under his breath as I walk past him. He follows me and opens the door. “Get in the car, Victoria p>
He uses my name like he’s warning me, and right now, I don’t want to know why.
I slide into the back seat, and Nico takes the seat beside me. The driver pulls out, and when the estate gates open, we are gone.
Neither of us speaks as we drive off. Soon, the mansion disappears behind us, and the road curves through trees dusted with old snow. I stare out the window and pretend my chest doesn’t hurt.
“You’re quiet,” Nico says as he checks his watch.
I don’t look at him. “I’m practicing for the rest of my life p>
He snorts, then smothers it into a cough-like laughter. “Don’t do anything reckless p>
I turn my head slowly, letting my eyes meet his. “Define reckless p>
Nico’s stare goes flat. “Running p>
“I haven’t run from anything in years.” I regret the honesty instantly, but at least Lorenzo isn’t here to hear it.
“Just… don’t speak.” Nico responds.
Thirty minutes later, the Danforth estate is before us. The gates open before we even stop.
My stomach twists. Because that means they’re expecting me, and I don’t know how I feel about it. A month has passed since I’ve seen them last, and from what I can tell, neither has tried to contact me… so do I even want to be here?
The SUV rolls up the drive. My mother is already on the steps, wrapped in an expensive-looking, useless coat. Her hair is pulled back too tightly, and she looks frail. My father stands behind her, hands clasped, jaw rigid.
Now, he’s trying to look like a man in control.
Spoiler alert, Dad: You’re not.
The car stops, and my door is opened. Cold air hits my lungs, but I welcome it anyway because it’s real. Like freedom, even if it’s short-lived.
My mother takes a step forward but doesn’t approach.
Gee, thanks, Mom. Missed you too. “Victoria p>
My father steps closer, gaze flicking past me, landing straight on Nico. His nostrils flare.
“Who is that?” my father bites out, voice low.
Nico remains two steps behind me, posture neutral, eyes scanning him before looking around the property. He doesn’t speak.
Smart man. I answer for him, keeping my tone light because that’s the only way this will work. My mother will be too dramatic if I tell her the truth. “Security p>
My father’s mouth tightens. “Security for what p>
I tilt my head, letting my smile sharpen. “For me p>
My mother gestures to the door. “Come inside, I’m cold.” Some things never change. She’s still the most selfish person I’ve ever met. “You look…” She narrows her eyes, trying to find the word she wants to use. It’s usually an insult, so I help her with it.
“Tired?” I walk past her toward the doors. “That’s just my face now. It’s a trend p>
She rolls her eyes. She’s never found me funny. I guess almost losing everything and selling your daughter to a mafia man didn’t help her get a sense of humor.
Fine by me. I have no intention of ending this line of jokes. She deserves to know I’m miserable. She did sell me like cattle, after all.
Once inside the house, we move into the front sitting room. Nico stays by the doorway.
My father notices immediately. “Does he have to stand there?” he snaps, gesturing toward Nico.
Nico’s eyes slide to my father, expression calm in a way that makes my spine prickle.
I beat him to it. “Yes p>
My mother flinches. “Victoria p>
I lift a hand, cutting her off without raising my voice. “Let’s not pretend we get to make rules today p>
Silence drops hard.
My father’s jaw clenches like he’s chewing glass, and my mother’s hands flutter at her chest.
Then she tries again, softer. “What brings you here today p>
I look at her. Really look. Her makeup is done, but her eyes are swollen. Her lips are pale beneath the lipstick, and her hands shake when she reaches for the tea service.
Guilt?
Or sadness.
Most likely neither. Never can tell with this woman, but what I can tell is she isn’t happy, and I’m certain it has nothing to do with me.
“Is that your way of asking if I’m okay?” I settle into a chair without taking my coat off.
My mother doesn’t speak, so I answer my own question anyway. “I’m alive p>
My father’s laugh is harsh and bitter. “Cute, Victoria p>
I angle my head toward him. “I do what I can p>
His face goes red. “Stop with the attitude, young lady p>
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Aw, do you not like me reminding you of what you did? Treating me like an asset p>
My father goes still.
Nico shifts slightly in the doorway, the tiniest adjustment.
My mother sets a teacup down, and the porcelain clinks at the movement. “I will not have this in my house,” she whispers, as if Nico can’t hear.
“Then where?” I shoot back, letting my voice sharpen. “How do you want it, Mom? You want me to smile and say thank you? You want me to pretend this is fine because the alternative is admitting what you did p>
Her eyes harden. “We didn’t have a choice p>
I laugh once, short and ugly. “Funny. That’s what everyone keeps saying, but you kind of did p>
My father’s hands curl into fists. “Enough. You wanted to visit, so we allowed it. If you don’t want to be here, why are you p>
“Good question, Dad p>
His mouth opens to say something, but before he can, the door to the adjoining study opens.
And in walks Grant Jameson.
Fabulous. Of course my dad and him were having a meeting the day Lorenzo lets me come for a visit. Just my luck.
This is exactly what I need to make this day worse.
I know I said I wanted to get away, but maybe this wasn’t a well-thought-out plan.
Always so damn perfect. Too bad what’s inside is rotten to the core.
Perfect suit. Perfect hair. Perfect smile built for cameras and boardrooms.
Barf.
His gaze lands on me and brightens too quickly. “Victoria,” he breathes, stepping forward.
My stomach drops, less from fear, and more from irritation so sharp it feels like nausea.
Like I said… barf.
Grant’s eyes sweep over me, down my body, then flick up to my face.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he adds, voice smooth, concerned in a very fake way. Someone get this guy an acting class because he needs it.
My mother stiffens, gaze snapping to him like she forgot he was here.
My father’s posture tightens, jaw locked.
I stand slowly because sitting feels like surrender. “Grant p>
Grant moves closer, then pauses like he senses the tension—like he senses the invisible trip wire of what he doesn’t know.
His eyes flick toward Nico at the doorway.
Nico doesn’t move.
Grant’s smile tightens. “I came by as soon as I heard you were… back p>
Back.
Not married. Not taken. Not locked away. He doesn’t know.
Lorenzo said no one can know, but I didn’t realize my parents would obey.
Not to protect me, at least. But it isn’t to protect me, it’s to protect themselves. They can’t tell him without risking everything.
Grant lifts his hands in a placating gesture, eyes on me. “Where have you been p>
My mother inhales sharply, and my father goes rigid. They have nothing to worry about. I know the rules.
I tip my head, forcing my mouth into something that resembles a smile. “Out p>
Grant’s brows lift. “Out where p>
I take a slow step toward him, letting my tone turn sweet the way my mother taught me—polite enough to pass as civil, sharp enough to cut. “What is this, Grant? An inquisition p>
His jaw flexes. “You vanished. No one could reach you p>
My father’s gaze drills into me like he’s begging me not to say the wrong thing.
Nico’s presence, on the other hand, dares me to.
I meet Grant’s eyes. “I wasn’t available p>
Grant lets out a small laugh, forced. “That’s not funny p>
“I’m not trying to be funny,” I reply, the softness in my voice a lie. “I’m trying to be clear p>
His gaze narrows, suspicion creeping in. “Who is that man?” He points at Nico.
“A guard.” I roll my eyes. “My father suddenly cares about my safety p>
Grant’s eyes flick to my father, then to my mother, then back to me. He reads the room and doesn’t like what he sees.
“Victoria.” He lowers his voice in a caring way. I’m not stupid. He’s an even worse option than Lorenzo. “If you’re in trouble p>
My laugh comes out too sharp. “You don’t get to play hero. Not after years of hovering around my life like a vulture in a designer suit p>
His expression hardens, the mask beginning to slip. “I’m trying to help you p>
“Are you? Or are you trying to help yourself get me p>
“You’re being difficult p>
“I’m always difficult.” I tilt my head. “It’s the only language I know p>
Grant steps closer, voice lower, eyes intent. “Tell me where you’ve been p>
I feel it then: the pressure behind his questions. The interest. The calculation.
He isn’t asking because he cares.
He’s asking because information is power, and Grant has always believed power belongs to him. He wants power to find a way to control me, and that thought alone scares me.
I glance at my parents. I could end this right now and just tell him. I’d finally be away from Lorenzo. But I don’t tell him. Not because Lorenzo told me not to but because I refuse to give Grant anything. Because some ugly, complicated part of me won’t hurt Lorenzo.
The realization tastes bitter on my tongue.
His nostrils flare. “You’re protecting someone p>
I hold his stare, heartbeat steady. “I’m protecting myself p>
Grant studies me for a beat too long.
Then his gaze flicks past me to Nico, and something shifts in his expression.
He forces a smile back onto his face, turning toward my parents like he’s remembering decorum. “I should go,” he says, voice tight. “But Victoria and I will talk soon p>
My father’s voice is strained. “Grant p>
Grant cuts him off with a smooth nod, already backing toward the hall. “I’ll be in touch p>
His eyes slide to me one last time, and then he leaves. The front door clicks shut, and silence descends quickly upon us.
My mother exhales shakily, pressing a hand to her chest.
“Why is he here?” my father barks out. “Who told him you were here p>
My mouth twists. “My guess is he has friends on your staff. It makes him feel important p>
I stare at the spot where Grant stood.
“It’s time to leave.” Niko cuts in.
It’s weird. I thought I’d feel safe here, but I don’t. I feel hollow.
Nico gestures toward the door. I turn to leave, but instead, I pause in the doorway, my back to them, throat tight. I thought that if I came here, I’d feel something different. Love…
But the only time I ever felt love here was with Lorenzo.
I don’t turn around. I just walk out.
As we pull away, I stare at the estate shrinking behind us and think about Grant. How his eyes sharpened when I refused to answer. He was frustrated, but there was something else. Something I can’t put my finger on.
“You did good.” Nico’s low voice breaks the silence in the car.
I blink, turning my head. “Good at what p>
He shrugs one shoulder, his gaze forward. “Not talking p>
I let out a bitter laugh. “It’s funny. Everyone keeps complimenting me on being quiet p>
“Quiet keeps you alive.” Nico doesn’t smile.
I stare out the window again, watching the trees blur, as my chest aches with everything I didn’t say.
With everything I can’t.
I didn’t tell Grant.
I protected Lorenzo.
I don’t know what that makes me.
But I’m scared to find out.