I got back to the gallery after work to find a deep blue velvet box sitting on the doorstep. Inside lay a golden bullet and a wedding invitation.

I froze. Before I could even process what I was seeing, my encrypted phone rang.

I answered on instinct, and a voice I hadn't heard in three years whispered my name.

"Cindy... what if I told you I made a mistake?"

"Are you ready to come home and claim what’s yours?"

————————

1

"Cindy—"

The call was encrypted.

Alessio's voice was a careful probe, a cruel blade twisting in an old wound, tearing it open all over again. I listened to the frantic pounding of my own heart before cutting him off, my voice turning to ice.

"Alessio Moretti."

"Lose another bet with your boys, Alessio?"

I sank onto the leather sofa, my gaze fixed on the golden bullet on the coffee table. Its metallic gleam was as raw as the car crash three years ago, the crash where Alessio shattered my bones, leaving me in a pool of my own blood, begging him for just one glance.

But all he did was stare down at my pathetic state and tell me…

"Cindy."

"You really think a nobody from the gutter is fit to touch me?"

Now, listening to the sound of Alessio's heavy breathing on the other end of the line, I let out a sharp, brittle laugh.

"So what's the game this time?"

"Another bet? See if the little orphan you almost killed still comes running? Or," I drawled, my words slow and deliberate, "are you planning to play with my head again? Add another trophy to your collection and watch me fall apart, begging you not to leave?"

"Alessio Moretti."

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

My hand trembled, knocking the glass off the coffee table. Whiskey soaked the invitation, and as it bled onto the carpet, my pills scattered among the dark stains.

My psychiatric meds.

They scattered and began to dissolve in the spilled liquor, a bitter stain to match the cold gleam of the bullet. My entire body shook as I tried to pick them up, but then I heard Alessio’s voice again.

"Cindy, it's been three years."

His tone softened, as if he were coaxing a child.

"Three years."

"Can't we just move past this?"

"Just... put it behind us."

A sharp, humorless laugh almost escaped me. My hands wouldn't stop trembling; I could barely muster the strength to pick up a single pill.

And he was talking about putting it behind us. How could I ever put this behind me?

Three years. I thought it was enough time. Enough to heal. But just hearing his voice… my body remembers. The pain, bone-deep and sharp enough to shatter my marrow, washes over me all over again.

"You know what they say about exes—the best ones act like they're dead. I already built you a tombstone in my head, Alessio. Why can't you just stay in your damn coffin?"

I fought back the shivers wracking my body and sneered.

"Alessio Moretti."

"Did you feel like you lost out by not killing me in that crash? Or was it drugging me and throwing me to those animals—"

"Cindy!"

Alessio’s breathing turned ragged, his voice cracking. "That's not who I am. I never wanted to hurt you, and I would never look down on you for being an orphan."

"Everything that happened before… I was immature. It was my fault. I admit it. But can you please—"

A long silence stretched over the encrypted line.

For a moment, I thought I heard the arrogant mafia heir sobbing. He choked out, "I really regret it."

"Cindy."

"I regret it."

But regret doesn't wash away sin. And in the hell he’d made for me, sincerity was the most dangerous lie of all.

"I'll pray for your new bride," I told Alessio, my voice heavy with exhaustion.

"But from now on, don't contact me again."

I ended the call, destroying another of his encrypted numbers. I sat alone in the empty gallery as the air grew thick, suffocating me, dragging me three years into the past.

Three years ago, Alessio had sent me an encrypted message: *Cindy, what if I told you I’m going to announce our relationship to everyone at the family banquet?*

*Wanna be my girl?*

I had just left the art supply store. The message sent a dizzying flush to my cheeks, and my heart hammered against my ribs. I was walking on air. But on the day of the banquet, after spending the entire afternoon getting ready, I heard nothing from him.

Convinced he was planning a surprise, my stomach fluttered with anticipation as I asked one of his friends for his location.

Alessio had booked the entire hall of a private casino for the announcement. My heart hammered against my ribs. With my cheeks burning, I slipped into the casino, only to see another girl standing in the center of the crowd. Her eyes were red from crying as she pointed a trembling finger at me.

"That's her."

"That's the whore. The spy."

The words hit me like a physical blow. The blood froze in my veins. I watched as the crowd jeered, demanding Alessio deal with me.

Alessio's arm went around the girl's waist, his expression glacial. He was about to pronounce my sentence. Like a madwoman, I lunged between them, slapped the girl across the face, and demanded, "Who are you! Why are you framing me!"

I thought I was his girlfriend. The woman he'd held, kissed, and been intimate with. I thought I was his one and only.

But the girl just looked at Alessio and sobbed.

Alessio's hand cracked across my face. He snarled.

"Kneel!"

"Cindy! Don't make me say it again!"

"On your knees. Admit you're wrong. Now!"

I stared at him, terrified and disbelieving, as the girl cried harder. She didn't have to say another word. Alessio sneered, grabbed a fistful of my carefully styled hair, and his foot connected with the back of my knees. I buckled, crashing to the floor.

"Apologize!"

Alessio hauled me up by my hair, stomped on my calf, and viciously slammed my head against the floor.

Ringing in my ears. Laughter. The girl's sobs, and Alessio's voice: "Who the hell do you think you are, daring to touch my girl!"

"Cindy, did you really think you were something to me?"

"It was a game, Cindy. Why'd you take it so seriously?"

My world spun. My carefully applied makeup was a wreck, my face smeared into the mask of a tragic clown. I was a complete joke. Yet I still clung to the last shred of my love for him, choking out through my tears, "Why?"

"Alessio Moretti."

"Why?"

I cried, grabbing his leg, refusing to let him go.

"Didn't you say you were going to announce our relationship?"

"Didn't you say you wanted me to be your woman?"

"Why did it have to be like this?"

"Alessio."

"Why."

I woke from the nightmare to see the clock reading 5:30 a.m. I took my medication from the cabinet and was about to make coffee when the doorbell rang.

A frantic hammering. Like a demon clawing at the gates of hell, its malevolent hand reaching through the door for me. The moment I opened it, I saw them.

Several women stood at the entrance to my gallery.

The woman front and center, her makeup flawless, was the same one from the invitation. I recognized her instantly.

Alessio's fiancée. Isabella Rossi.

Isabella crossed her arms, her chin tilted high.

"So you're the famous Cindy Vance?"

"The little charity case who can't stop clinging to Alessio?" Isabella's gaze raked over me, dripping with contempt.

"Let me tell you something. I'm marrying Alessio next month. Our families are uniting. Crushing an orphan like you would be as easy as swatting a fly!"

"I'm warning you," Isabella's long nails dug into my chin, "Any lingering ideas you have about Alessio? Bury them. Deep."

"Don't let me find out you didn't!"

One of the women beside her immediately chimed in. "Why are you wasting your breath on her!"

"If she was so innocent, would Alessio still be muttering her name when he's drunk?!"

"If you ask me, we should just get rid of her and be done with it!"

Seeing them about to barge into my gallery, I grabbed Isabella's wrist. "If you dare come in, it's trespassing. I'll call the cops!"

I met Isabella's dismissive glare.

"And for the record, I have no interest in your fiancé! Whatever was between Alessio and me ended a long time ago. Oh," I laughed, "it never even began. If you want to go after his exes, I wouldn't be first in line—"

Smack. Isabella's hand struck my face.

"Who the hell do you think you are!"

She raised her hand to hit me again, but this time I caught her wrist. She shrieked, a woman possessed.

"You dare to fight back!"

"Even if I trash your entire gallery today, it will still be your fault!"

I took a deep breath, fighting to stay calm. "I told you, Alessio and I—"

One of Isabella's cronies shoved me hard. Unprepared, my head hit the wall with a sickening thud. The woman lunged, grabbing my hair.

"Did we say you could speak?! Huh?!"

"Miss Isabella, this one's got a mouth on her!"

Another one stormed right into my gallery. She spotted the pill bottle on my workbench and snatched it up, a cruel laugh escaping her lips.

"I remember the rumors," the woman sneered, shaking the bottle. "That Alessio fell for some psycho. I thought it was just talk, but... aren't these exactly the kind of pills a psycho takes?"

"Oh!"

Her smile twisted into a vicious sneer.

"If the rumors were true, does that mean the Moretti family's dogs had their way with you too?!"

The nightmare roared back to life. The memory of being locked in that cage, the feeling of suffocation, it all came rushing back. I lunged forward like a wild animal to get my medication back, but the woman tossed the bottle to Isabella just before I could reach it.

"Give it back!"

Any pretense of calm shattered. I pointed a trembling finger at the door. "Give me back my pills, and get out of my gallery!"

"Get out!"

But Isabella just popped the cap off the bottle and advanced on me, step by deliberate step.

"Guess how I knew you lived here?"

My heart stuttered.

"And how I knew you'd been in contact with Alessio."

A swamp of fear began to pull me under.

"It was, of course—"

My eyes widened as I heard her finish, "Alessio told me. He said you've been harassing him. That you can't let go. That you're even planning to ruin our wedding."

Isabella's gaze swept over my workbench, her expression twisting the moment she saw the drawing.

"It really was you!"

She snatched the paper, her eyes wild as she looked at me.

"You're the one who seduced him!"

"You slut!"

Isabella grabbed a palette knife from the table and lunged. For a second, I was thrown back three years.

Because I refused to give up, because I couldn't believe Alessio didn't love me, I had hounded him relentlessly. I even went to his company with a megaphone, trying to force him to see me. To force him to explain himself.