I twisted the throttle. And left. The gates opened. Just opened. No alarms. No guards stopping me. No dramatic chase. Nothing. The estate disappeared behind me while the motorcycle flew down winding coastal roads.
Wind tore through my hair. The ocean flashed beside me. The moon climbed higher. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I laughed. Actually laughed. The sound disappeared into the wind. No bodyguards. No family. No expectations. No wedding. No prison. Just me.
I rode for nearly an hour. Maybe longer. Long enough for the panic to fade. Long enough for exhilaration to take its place. Long enough to realize something uncomfortable. I wasn't thinking about escaping anymore. I was thinking about Santino.
The realization annoyed me. I pulled into a small overlook above the ocean and killed the engine. Silence rushed in. Waves crashed below. Seagulls drifted overhead. The motorcycle ticked softly as it cooled.
I pulled out the phone Santino had given me. Stared at Chiara's contact, already saved in there. Then pressed call. She answered before the first ring finished. "Aurora, please, is it you?"
The relief in her voice hit me like a punch. My throat tightened. "It’s me, and I'm okay."
"Thank God." I closed my eyes. For a moment neither of us spoke. The ocean crashed below the cliffs. A gull cried somewhere overhead. I missed her so much my chest physically hurt.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. Chiara made a sound that was suspiciously close to crying. Which was unsettling becauseChiara Ventura cried approximately once every presidential election.
"Where are you?" she asked.
"I don't know." A pause. "I stole a motorcycle."
"You what?"
"I stole a motorcycle. It sounds worse when you repeat it,” I chuckled nervously. "It might actually belong to the man who kidnapped me."
"AURORA."
I smiled despite myself. There she was. My sister. The bossy one. The terrifying one. The one who loved me enough to yell.
"Come home," she said quietly. The words settled heavily inside my chest. Come home. Simple. Easy. Exactly what I wanted. Wasn't it?
I looked out at the ocean. The endless horizon. The freedom stretching in every direction. Then I thought about Santino standing in that office. Talking about Angelo. About grief. About loss. About moving forward while part of yourself stayed behind. I thought about the watch. The photograph. The way he'd handed me the keys.
No threats. No conditions. No chains. Just a choice.
I wasn't sure.
"Aurora?"
I swallowed. Hard. Because I should have said yes. Without hesitation. Instead I found myself asking, "Are you safe?"
"Yes." She hesitated. “Nobody hurt us. They just took you.”
"Is Leo mad at me?” I asked, my bottom lip strangely close to wobbling. I hated that I still wanted his approval.
"He's… fine."
"Sienna?" I asked shakily.
A snort. "Sienna is currently trying to convince Leo to let her have a pet goat so she can do goat yoga at home."
"That sounds right." My chest tightened. “I’ll… I’ll call you later, Chiara.”
“No,” she argued, pleading with me. "You’re not safe out there on your own. Come home."
I stared at the ocean for a very long time. At freedom. At possibility. At the road stretching behind me. And for the first time since the cathedral, nobody was making this choice for me. Not my family. Not Santino. Not anyone. Me.
The terrifying truth arrived slowly. I could go anywhere. Anywhere at all. And somehow... I didn't want to. Not yet.
Because maybe Santino hadn't been betting on my captivity. Maybe he'd been betting on something far worse. Curiosity. And God help me, I wanted answers.
