Chapter 128 Damn, Julie
❦ Rosalind ❦
I sank into the yellow sofa face first, the fabric cool and soft against my cheek.
God, I was so tired. Both mentally and physically.
That bone-deep kind of tired that crawls into you and settles there.
There was no denying it now. I’d been too busy trying not to die, chasing ghosts, and uncovering family secrets — and in all that chaos, I hadn’t even noticed my lack of a period, for weeks. Maybe months.
A low groan slipped out of me, muffled into the fabric.
And then a dark thought hit me. Viktor hadn’t exactly been careful. He always finished inside me, always held me there after like he was staking a claim.
My face warmed, not from embarrassment, but disbelief and irritation.
Could that have been his plan all along? Back when we were still squabbling over the hotel? A power play wrapped up in pleasure?
The thought made my chest twist.
I turned over and stared up at the ceiling, my hand resting flat over my stomach. The space suddenly felt heavy and lonely.
I needed to talk to someone who wasn’t part of this house, this life. There was only one person.
So I scrolled through my contacts and tapped Juliana.
It rang. And rang. And rang. No answer.
“Come on, Julie,” I whispered as my thumb hovered over the screen.
When she didn’t answer, I sent a text instead.
Me: ‘Call me when you can. Please.’
My mind flashed to the last time we spoke and I remembered how she’d sounded evasive, like she was keeping something from me.
I frowned and hit the dial again. Still no answer.
My stomach twisted. Against my better judgment, I opened another contact. The one I’d been avoiding for months.
Aunt Carina.
The line clicked after a few beats.
“Ciao, zia Carina,” (Hi, Aunt Carina), I said softly, my voice catching.
“Ciao, Rosa,” she replied, her tone was polite but distant. “Come stai?”, (How are you?).
“I’m… I’m alright,” I managed, though it came out thin.
There was a pause.
Then she asked, “What happened, Rosa?”
My throat tightened instantly. She didn’t mean what happened right now. She meant everything. The wedding. The marriage. The mafia husband. The whole bloody circus I’d wrapped myself in.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my eyes burning. “I should’ve…”
“You should’ve known better,” she cut in sharply, her voice trembling but firm. “You were supposed to be the one who broke free, Rosa. To sell that hotel, leave that life behind, come back to Boston and something honest. Something safe.”
Her breath hitched. “Not marry a don. Not walk the same path that killed your mother. Didn’t you learn anything from her death?”
Her words landed like stones, one after another.
And I found myself gripping the phone tighter, unable to answer right away, because maybe she was right, maybe…
I straightened in my chair, knuckles pressed against the armrest as I listened to her aged breathing on the other end.
I wanted to tell her everything.
That my mother hadn’t died in some random mafia crossfire, but by the hands of her own husband. My father.
But my throat closed around the words.
What if she already knew? What if everyone had known except me?
The thought pressed like a cold hand against the back of my neck. I wasn’t ready for another confrontation like that.
So I forced my voice steady and said, “I’m sorry, zia. I know I didn’t listen. I came to New York, and I… I made mistakes. A lot of them. But I learned too. I learned how to trust myself. And my heart.”
There was silence on the other end.
“I found happiness,” I went on, my fingers tracing the seam of the cushion. “It’s not what you wanted for me, I know. But I’m happy. I really am. And I’m sorry if that doesn’t fit into what you dreamed for me.”
A small exhale came through the speaker, followed by a whispered prayer.
Then, softly, she said, “Rosa, I can’t bear to lose you like I lost my sister. I promised her I’d keep you safe. But how can I do that when you’re so far away?”
My eyes blurred before I could blink it back. Tears slipped free and ran down my cheeks.
“You won’t lose me,” I said quickly, my voice breaking. “I swear, zia. You won’t.”
“Both my girls are choosing dangerous lives… and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Her voice trembled.
I blinked, confused. “Both your girls? What do you mean?”
A faint sigh. “Juliana hasn’t visited me since she went to visit you in New York. I’m certain she’s gotten herself mixed up in the same world as you.”
My heart stopped.
I sat perfectly still, gripping the phone so tight it creaked.
I didn’t want her to hear the shock in my voice. I didn’t want her to know that I had no fucking idea what she was talking about.
So I swallowed hard and forced a smile into my tone. “Don’t worry, zia. We’ll come visit soon. Both of us. I promise.”
Her voice softened. “I’d love that. Stay safe, tesoro. And remember, if anything ever happens… you have a home here. In Boston.”
“Ti voglio bene, zia.”
“Anch’io, amore mio.”
We exchanged kisses through the phone, then the line clicked off.
I stayed frozen for a long moment, staring at nothing.
Then the anger came, hot and curling up my spine.
My hand tightened until my nails dug into my palms.
Juliana had left this house over a month ago, saying she was heading back to Boston after that fight with Adrian.
She never left New York.
“Damn you, Juliana,” I whispered, as the room seemed to shrink even closer around me.