Skylar.
After Bianca gave me a complete checkup, assured Renzo I was physically okay, and reminded us of my biopsy next week, he brought us home.
Somehow, I managed to take a shower and put on a clean dress before heading down to the kitchen.
I remove all the vegetables from the fridge and pantry and set them down on the island. I pull all the plastic containers from the cupboard and set them down in a neat row.
Grabbing a cutting board and chopping knife, I start with the spring onions, chopping them fine before placing them in a container.
I pull the pack of carrots closer and get started on slicing them. The nightmarish day replays on a constant loop in my mind.
I see Louisa and Dad being shot…their bodies at the mansion.
Watching Renzo kill two of the men…how he disemboweled Enrique.
Even though it was sickening, it also gave me some sense of relief. I should feel bad, but I don’t.
I feel nothing.
“What are you doing?” Renzo suddenly asks. “Prepping,” I murmur, my tone emotionless.
He comes to pull the knife from my hand, and taking hold of my shoulders, he turns me so I’ll face him.
Leaning down, he catches my eyes and stares at me for a moment before he pulls me into a hug.
“I know it’s tough right now, but it will get better,” he murmurs as he brushes his hand over my hair.
“Will it? Really?” I whisper. “Because it doesn’t look like it’s gotten any better for you.”
“The pain lessens. It’s not as bad as the first week after Giulio’s death.”
I shake my head, not believing him. I saw his raw heartache at the restaurant. He’s lying to make me feel better.
“Once the bodies are ready to be buried, I’ll help you with the funeral arrangements,” he says.
“The funerals. Plural,” I correct him. “I have to bury Louisa and my dad.” My breathing hitches, and destructive emotions return with a force that knocks me off my feet.
I sway in Renzo’s hold before my legs go numb. His arms tighten around me, and a second later, I’m airborne as he picks me up.
My breathing hitches in my throat as painful sobs shudder from me.
Renzo sits down on one of the couches and cradles me like a baby while he presses kisses to my forehead and hair.
‘Honey, I want you to meet someone very special,’ Mom says.
I watch as a man comes to crouch in front of me, a kind smile on his face.
‘Hi, Skylar. My name is Harlan Davies. I’m a friend of your mommy’s.’
I bury my face against Renzo’s neck and cry my heart out as the memories start to bombard me.
‘Where could she be?’ I hear Uncle Harlan call out.
Hiding behind the curtains, I let out a chuckle. Suddenly, the curtain’s swept out of the way, and he lifts me into the air.
‘Gotcha!’ He gives me a hug, then taps his cheek. ‘Where’s my prize for finding you.’
I plant a wet kiss on his stubble, then wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Renzo,” I groan, the pain too much for me to handle.
Wrapping his hand around the back of my neck, he pulls me away from his neck until our eyes meet.
“Tell me what to do, amo,” he says, his tone hoarse. “How can I help you get through this?”
I don’t know.
I grip the fabric over my heart as I struggle through the sobs, and Renzo squashes me against his chest again, rubbing his hand up and down my back.
“T-They killed my d-d-dad,” I cry through broken sobs.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers. “I’m here, amo. You’re not alone.” “I am!” The words sound devastating to my ears. “I have n-no one l-
left.”
“You have me,” Renzo assures me. “You’re my k-kidnapper,” I argue.
“No. We both know that’s no longer the case.” He presses another kiss to the side of my head. “That ship sailed at the restaurant.”
Somehow, his words manage to calm me down enough that I’m able to stop crying. I rest my head against his shoulder and suck in deep breaths as the storm inside me quiets until everything feels empty again.
“When I say you have me, I mean it, Skylar,” Renzo murmurs. “No more kidnapper and captive bullshit.”
“Will you let me go?” I whisper.
“Where? Back to the mansion?” He lets out a sigh. “No, it’s too dangerous. You’re staying with me so I can protect you.”
I let out a hollow chuckle. “I’ve gone from captive to roommate. I guess I should count my blessings.”
“Fuck no, you’re not my roommate,” he mutters. “Far from.” Lifting my head, I look into his eyes as I ask, “Then what am I?”
He stares at me for the longest moment before he says, “Mine.” Lifting a hand to my face, he brushes his fingers over my jaw before cupping my cheek. “You’re mine.”
I don’t have to ask him to elaborate. I know exactly what he means.
He’s fallen in love with me. God only knows why, but it happened, and Renzo warned me he’d never let me go.
Do I even still want to leave?
What’s there to go back to…an empty mansion where the memory of Louisa and Dad’s murders will haunt me?
A life where I have no family.
My entire world has been shredded to pieces, and I have no idea how to put it back together again.
Nothing will be the same as before.
With my eyes still locked on Renzo’s face, I try to come to terms with everything that’s happened.
Slowly he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to my mouth. Pulling back, his gaze drifts over my face, checking my reaction.
How did I manage to make this ruthless man fall for me?
Can I love him back after everything that’s happened between us?
I remember the terror the first week after he took me. The fear of God this man instilled in me. His brutality. The hopelessness of having him keep me imprisoned in his penthouse.
Can I move past it all?
Can I forgive him?
I don’t know.
Nudging me to rest my head against his shoulder, he murmurs, “Get some rest, amo.”
I close my eyes and focus on the feel of his arms around me. I know firsthand how strong he is, and having him be gentle with me makes me feel safe.
It’s been a long while since I felt this way, and it soothes my aching soul.
I let out a deep breath and place my hand against his chest as I press my face into the crook of his neck.
How the tables have turned between us.