Page 38 of Sweet Prison

Zahara

PS: Why do you keep bringing up Adriano? No, he hasn’t dropped by. And he hasn’t been here since that lunch, which was more than a year ago. Why are you asking about him so much?

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Letter #258

Dear Massimo,

When my jewelry box went missing months ago, I thought Lucia had been playing with it again and must have hidden it somewhere around the house. After a while, I completely forgot about it.

So imagine my surprise when, this morning, a courier dropped off a package for me—a package bearing a logo from a distinguished custom jeweler, The House of Dubois in Paris. Can you guess what was inside? No? Okay, I’ll tell you. My old jewelry box. And it contained six necklaces and two bracelets. Stunning pieces that were exact replicas of my old ones, with one exception. These were made of platinum instead of gold.

It was you, wasn’t it?

I did not tell you about the necklaces so you’d buy me new ones. But… Thank you.

Zahara

PS: What happened to the original gold ones?

Letter #259

Zahara,

I gave instructions for them to be thrown into the Seine. They are at the bottom of the polluted river—a place where items that have caused you harm belong.

I also figured that having the gold pieces around may stir up bad memories for you, and that’s not something I want you to experience. I know your father gave them to you, and that might make them sentimental and irreplaceable, but you should only remember the good times with your dad, not the bittersweet moments. I’ve never been Nuncio’s greatest fan, but there’s one thing I can tell you about him with absolute certainty. He loved you, although he had a shitty way of showing it more often than not. Focus on the positives instead. You can still take comfort that he chose the jewelry that you like, and now you can enjoy it more fully.

Did you try on the new pieces? I had each one extensively tested at a special lab to ensure they would cause no adverse reactions before they were delivered. It took the bastards four months—almost twice the time Dubois needed to make your jewelry pieces in the first place. Which is why they didn’t arrive in time for your 20th birthday as planned.

So… Happy birthday, Zahara.

M.

Chapter 12

Leone Villa

One day following the failed assassination attempt on Nera

I watch my sister cross the kitchen and stop in front of the magnet-covered fridge. She reaches out and glides her fingers over the one with a picture of an old bridge, then she quickly disappears into her bedroom where Lucia is having an afternoon nap.

Shaking my head, I bring my attention back to what’s happening in the yard, directly under the window. Nera’s stalker-boy is still there, giving all kinds of orders to the security guards. Hopefully, he won’t kill any more staff today. We need all the manpower we have in case whoever tried to assassinate Nera decides to try again.

A shiver runs through my body at the thought of last night’s events. The look on my sister’s face when she barged into my room where I was sleeping, pleading for help. The sight of the long-haired stranger sprawled out on her bed and covered in blood. The crunch of broken glass under my feet as I rushed across the darkened living room to get towels from the bathroom. The assassin’s lifeless body slumped on the balcony. And I know there were more, scattered around the grounds of Leone Villa. Nera mentioned that it was a professional team of hitmen. Her “demon” disposed of them all.

I press my lips together, struggling with the conflicting emotions roiling within me. I’ve despised the guy for a long time for making Nera fall in love with him and then vanishing into thin air for more than three years. He left my sister pregnant and alone. She had me, but it wasn’t the same. Her heart has been trapped in purgatory.

But now… now I see that there is more to their story than I thought. Because her stalker-boy almost died trying to save her in the middle of the night. He singlehandedly stopped the team of heavily armed hitmen who had my sister in their sights. And then, this morning, he sliced the throat of Leone’s Head of Security for allowing the situation to get that far. And I see how he looks at her—like she is his sun, his moon, and the stars.

Must be nice… to have a man look at you like you’re his entire universe.

As I’m closing the drapes, my phone starts ringing. I pull it from the back pocket of my jeans and narrow my eyes. An unknown number. Strange.

Hesitantly, I hit the green button to accept and bring the phone to my ear. “Yes?”

“Are you hurt?”