stay away from me, okay? I don’t know what you think you know, but you’re wrong.” Emilia started edging toward the steps.
“Just think about it, please.”
If there were other girls like me and Emilia, maybe we could go to the authorities. They might be able to cover up one case, but if there were numerous someone would have to take it seriously, wouldn’t they?
But my hopes were quickly dashed.
“You can’t go up against a family like the Fascini,” Emilia said with deep resignation. “You should remember that.”
Emilia avoided me after that. The same way I continued to avoid Scott. Thursday morning rolled around, and I was almost able to trick myself into thinking I was just a normal girl living with her best friend and attending classes.
But I wasn’t normal.
I was stuck in purgatory.
Living a nightmare.
I spent my time counting down the hours and minutes until my next message off Nicco. Like an addict waiting for their next high, I stalked my cell phone, desperate to hear the ping or feel the familiar vibration.
It was his words, his messages of love, that got me through the days.
It was bittersweet though. I knew I needed to ask him about hurting Tristan, but there was never a right time. He was in Boston, and I was here, and it wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have over the phone. I needed to look him in the eyes when I asked him, to see his expression.
Then there was the small matter that with every passing day, it was a step closer to the engagement party. Mom had already sent across three dresses for me to choose from. I was to coordinate with Scott which meant when I had picked a dress, I needed to inform him so he could wear the matching tie.
But informing him meant talking to him. And talking to him meant listening to him. So I’d asked Luis to pass on the message. I could have texted him myself, but it felt like a small victory to defy him.
Until I went into the living room and saw him sitting on our couch.
“If this is what you look like first thing in the morning, I’m going to be a lucky, lucky guy.” He openly appraised my body, letting his hungry gaze linger on my bare legs. I was wearing an oversized MU t-shirt that finished mid-thigh.
“What are you doing here?” I wrapped an arm around my waist.
“Is that anyway to greet your fiancé? I just stopped by to bring you something for Saturday. I have extra practice today and a game tomorrow.” He got up and stalked toward me. Slow, sure steps, like he owned the apartment and everything in it.
Including me.
Dipping his hand inside his jacket, he pulled out a rectangular shaped jewelry box. He flipped the lid revealing a diamond necklace. It was stunning. A delicate rope of sparkle and elegance.
I instantly hated it.
“It’s too much.”
“You’re my fiancée, Arianne. There’s plenty more where this came from.” He went to take it from the box, but I laid my hand on his.
“I’ll wear it Saturday.” If he tried to put that thing on me now, I feared I might break.
“Very well.” He snapped the lid shut and placed it on the counter beside me. “You should wear the silver dress.”
“How do you—never mind.”
He studied me, his sharp gaze searching my face, for what I didn’t know. “I know that we didn’t get off on the right foot, but it’s only because you drive me fucking crazy.” Scott reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “We could be so good together.”
My body began to tremble with indignation. Did he really think anything he could say would fix everything?
He was more deluded than I thought.
“You should go,” I said, backing away ever so slightly. He was being weird, and it was unnerving.
“Yeah. But wear the diamonds and the dress. I’ll see you Saturday.”
Dread slithered through me, resting heavy in my stomach.
The seconds ticked by, the silence awkward and suffocating. I half-expected for Scott to make a move, to make some crude comment or try to intimidate me. But he didn’t. He let out a long breath before offering me a sharp nod and leaving.
Luis rushed into the room a couple of minutes later to find me standing in the same position. “Arianne, what happened?”
“He was here.”
“That sly fucker,” he seethed. “I got a call there was a problem in the underground parking lot. He must have called it