I hear Raf is secretly married and now his wife is missing. It’s very hard to Keep Up With This Family when ya’ll keep fucking secrets.
Luca:
Can someone please just give me proof of life, otherwise I’m getting on a private jet and coming home.
Luca:
Is Chiara okay?
Evie:
We hope so, Luca. We’re still in the thick of things here.
Luca:
I’m fucking coming home.
Sophia:
@Luca don’t come home. We’ll hopefully have news soon.
Luca:
@Marco @Seb @AJ @Raf why didn’t any of you motherfuckers let me know what was going on? Believe it or not, it was Dad who told me.
Evie:
It’s been a crazy day, Luca. But we’ll keep you posted. Promise.
Luca:
@Raf Love you bro. Stay safe.
Seb:
When we have news will let you all know.
Luca:
If I don’t hear from anyone in the appropriate amount of time, I’ll be coming in hot. You’ve all been warned. I’m tired of being the last one to know everything.
Chapter Fifty-Five
End Of The Road
Chiara
I’m once again wokenby the pain in my head, but this time it’s searing. I’m slumped against something, but it’s not soft like the bed I was on before. It feels cold and hard against my bare back. I’m also shaking, partly because I’m still in just my fucking underwear, and partly because I’m in a dark room, sitting on cold concrete. The only light I can see is from the small strip under the door letting in a glimmer. It’s about the same amount of hope I currently have that I’m going to be found soon.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but it feels like I’ve lived the longest day of my life even if I’ve been completely out of it most of the time. The last thing I remember before waking up in this cold, dark, damp room is Alessandro telling me AJ and Uncle Gino ordered my father’s death because he was a mole and my mother chose to die rather than live for me. None of it makes sense. They wouldn’t do that to me. Lie, hide. Cheat me out of the truth.Would they?
The urge to vomit overpowers me, and I dry heave. I don’t think I’ve eaten or drank anything today either. I imagine it’sevening now, but I’m without any windows to know for sure, and with feeling completely disoriented it’s hard to tell.
The dull thumping pain in my head sharpens once more, and I groan, applying pressure like that might help. “Aghh,” I shout as my fingers connect with an open gash right by my temple, where it feels like blood has clotted in my hair and stuck to my forehead. I rub the stickiness between my fingers, bringing them to my nose, the metallic smell determining that it’s an open wound.
I try to stand but my balance fails me, so I decide crawling might be the safest option. Moving into position, I make it maybe two crawls towards the door before his sharp voice slices through the silence.
“You lied to me, Chiara.”
