Page 39 of Sweet Prison

The phone nearly slips out of my hand. I lean on the wall for support and suck in a deep breath. It’s not enough. My head begins to spin.

It’s been years since I’ve heard his voice.

“I swear to God, Zahara, if you don’t tell me this instant whether you are unharmed, I’ll find a fucking way to get there tonight, just so I can see it for myself! I’m losing my shit over here!” Massimo thunders on the other end of the line.

“I’m alright,” I choke out. “How did you find ou—”

“That some assholes infiltrated the house while you slept? Of course I found out!”

“I’m fine. But they were after Nera. She’s the one you should be calling.”

“I don’t give the slightest fuck about your sister right now.” His voice drops dangerously low. “Peppe will come get you in twenty minutes. You’re getting out of that house.”

My hand flies to my chest. His tone is firm and threatening, but I can hear the shaking in his voice. He’s not simply worried. He sounds… terrified. For me. Joy and excitement swell within me, spreading until it feels as if a thousand beautiful butterflies are searching for a way out. I’ve never known Massimo to show concern, never mind be actually worried, for anyone.Just one, he said once upon a time when I demanded to know if he gave a fuck about even a single other person. I took it to mean only himself. Dare I hope he meant me? That he cares about me? Just a little bit? Closing my eyes, I try to temper my silly enthusiasm. It’s likely he’s simply feeling guilty.

“That’s not necessary. Nera’s stalker-boy has every security guard watching over the house, so you don’t have to worry. And you need me here.”

“I need you safe! That’s an order, not a request.”

There is no way I’m leaving my sister, especially now. And I’m not bailing on Massimo. I’m going to see this to the end, no matter the risks.

“Mr. Spada.” A muted and nervous male voice comes from Massimo’s end of the line. “Someone is coming. I need the phone back.”

“Tell me you heard what I said, Zahara!” Hushed, quick words, growled into my ear.

The tang of metal fills my mouth. I must have bitten through my lip.

“I don’t take orders from you, Massimo,” I whisper. “I’m staying.”

“Zahara!”

“I’ll mail my next letter in the morning. Take care.”

I quickly end the call, but not fast enough, because I still catch Massimo’s furious roar across the distance.

Throwing a look at Nera’s door to make sure it’s still closed, I open the call recorder app on my phone. I installed it a few months ago when I had to contact customer service after my fabric order was messed up, and then, I completely forgot to disable it. Dropping onto the recliner near the window, I hitPlayon the latest saved file and press the phone to the side of my face.

I keep listening to Massimo’s call, over and over, until his voice is so ingrained in my mind that I keep hearing it even after I’ve turned off my phone.

Chapter 13

Letter #294

Dear Massimo,

Still no progress in finding out who was behind the corporate takeover attempt. The temporary staffing Kai arranged from his Sicilian friend’s firm is helping to ensure nothing like that happens again. Based on their efforts so far, they’re a capable bunch.

As far as other business goes, not much new for me to share with you. Nera is still busy with hiring a suitable replacement to fill the manager position at the Bay View Casino. Kai did not consult with her before firing Lotario on the spot, but though it was a drastic step, it was warranted.

Peppe wanted me to pass on his apologies for not being available to handle the laundry as he was supposed to, but he assured me that it would be taken care of this weekend. Which reminds me—could you PLEASE ask him to stop following me around ALL THE TIME? As soon as I leave my room, he’s on my heels, like a puppy. He won’t listen when I ask him to back off. I can’t even go to the kitchen to get a glass of water without feeling like we’re joined at the hip. It’s frustrating.

Also, your constant “Leave that house immediately, Zahara” greetings in recent letters are getting old. I’m staying with my sister. Accept it already.

And no, I haven’t yet finished that skirt. Lucia caught a bug of some kind and then gave it to me. So, I spent the whole of last week wrapped in a blanket, with a mug of tea pretty much glued to my hand.

Zahara

PS: Have you started the countdown? Just a little over six months left on your sentence.