Page 37 of From Rome, With Hate

With my face pressed against the blanket, I stare out the window. Once I’ve gathered the strength to stand and cross the room, I take in the expansive grounds surrounding the cabin. It’s as if I’ve been plucked from reality and dropped directly into a fairy tale, only this time, I’m the princess locked inside the castle by a beast. But he isn’t just a beast. He’s my husband.

My gaze reluctantly shifts toward the small wooden bridge stretching across the sparkling pond. I close my eyes and remember how it felt to stand there with Rome as he slipped a simple leafed, rose gold band over my left ring finger. The way he recited his vows with conviction, using his full chest, only to break them months later.

I guess you could say I broke him, too, though.

When I open my eyes, the empty feeling I’ve been living with these past ten years returns. I shut the curtains with force before crawling into the bed and under the safety of the blankets.

Dammit. Even they smell like Rome. I can’t escape him.

But exhaustion wins out, pulling me further into the darkness.

I’m hoping when I wake up, this will all have been some terrible nightmare.

Who am I kidding?

My wishes never come true.

TWELVE

ROME

Flashback

I’ve spent years working out a way to leave the family business behind. I knew the day was coming when I would turn eighteen and officially become one of them, as if it wasn’t in my birthright from the moment I was born.

My mother’s silence over the years hasn’t helped. When my father insists I go out with him for what he calls ‘on the job training’, she doesn’t bother trying to stop him. Though that’s understandable, considering what the family business entails. But I also wonder how much my father must love my mother for him to continue what he’s doing, knowing she’s at home waiting for him. Because now that I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m in love with Julianna Capuleti, I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather be than with her.

It’s been nearly twenty-four hours since I snuck into the bathroom at Sola’s party and kissed her. The memory of it lingers like a ghost on my mouth. I’m thirsty, nohungry, for more. She’s all I think about. Even when my father brought me along to interrogate one of his clients. A client who turned out to be an informant for the FBI, ready to turn over evidence that would put him and my father’s men in prison for life. I watchedas he carved the tip of his tongue off with our family blade before forcing the man to eat it as if it were a piece of steak.

If loving Julianna wasn’t already a reason to leave this life behind the moment the opportunity arises, that would have been it. It took everything in me not to vomit. If there’s anything worse than disobeying an order from Dominico Montgomery, it’s looking weak in front of him.

After leaving the men to deal with the informant, my father drove me home, describing how he hopes that one day I’ll be able to handle a situation such as that with as much tenacity as he did. I kept my mouth shut, too focused on the waiting message from Julianna on my phone.

The address to her second house outside of the city.

Once I knew it was safe, I snuck out of the house and turned off the tracking on my phone.

Once I reach Kingsten Capuleti’s second home, I search the grounds for the spot Julianna told me to go through, which is a security fence surrounding the expansive mansion that stretches for what seems like miles, but it’s difficult when it’s pitch-black outside. I scale the fence and raise the hood of my sweatshirt before racing through the backyard and toward the vine-covered balcony as quietly as possible.

My heart races a million times a minute. This place is probably littered with security guards and cameras—my family’s house is the same—but Julianna assured me if I took this path, I wouldn’t be seen. I guess she’s spent time figuring out the weaknesses in her own family’s security system.

Of course she has.

I sneak past the expansive stone pool, remaining hidden in the shadows. The large European style mansion is covered in thick vines, the smooth stone peeking out beneath. Stopping behind the pool house, I peek around the corner and find the balcony Julianna was talking about. It’s the only one, so it mustbe hers. Beyond the rail of the balcony is a set of open double doors. A small light glows from behind the flowing white curtains. I grin, stepping out slowly.

Passing the pool, I see that, to my left, is a row of rose bushes covered in thick burlap. A cloud of white floats into the air from my heavy breaths. Poking out from under the burlap is one single rose. I pluck it from the bush, surprised it’s survived this far into winter. I carry it with me across the grounds. A vine-covered trellis scales one of the walls beside the column beneath Julianna’s balcony. I grip onto it and climb my way to the top, bringing the rose with me. The dry vines and branches scratch my skin, digging into my palms every time I pull myself up. I grit through the pain, knowing Julianna is worth it.

I keep my hold on the rail of the balcony when I reach the top.

“Lark,” I whisper, hesitating before fully committing to climbing over the threshold.

“I’m here.” Appearing from behind the curtain, Julianna steps out onto the balcony.

I nearly faint at the sight of her. She’s fucking beautiful, like a bright white light emerging from the shadows.

She’s wearing a pair of tiny white shorts covered in little flowers. Her matching tank rests just above the hem of her shorts, and the thin straps reveal those freckled shoulders that make me weak in the knees.

I climb over the railing and adjust myself before joining her on the balcony, chewing on the inside of my cheek, blown away by her beauty. Her brown hair is piled high on her head, with tendrils framing her soft, gorgeous face. She grins as my gaze drifts along her legs.