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Elio is already waiting for me, perched on the lip of the still fountain like any old tourist. Subconsciously, I fiddle with the golden band on my finger. I couldn’t quite bring myself to take it off, though it was only supposed to be a fake wedding ring. I wish I could tell Roman. I wish he was here.
But I have to do this alone.
I tilt my chin up defiantly and march toward him. Elio’s dark eyes glint when he catches sight of me. He stands up, offering out a hand in greeting. I ignore it, keeping my gaze stony.
He cocks his head as though surprised. “Madison. You look as gorgeous as ever, sweetheart.”
That musical Italian voice makes my stomach sink. I hope that one day, I’ll be able to deal with reminders of that country, that time in my life, but right now, it’s the last thing I want to hear. I couldn’t even go to that restaurant with Roman and his mom without wanting to burst into tears.
“I can’t believe you followed me home.” My voice shakes, but I don’t let it stop me from saying everything I’ve been thinking for the last few weeks. “I gave you everything. Why can’t you just let me go?”
“Why, so that you can fuck some asshole billionaire?” He sneers. “I was the one who gave you everything. You? You are worthless without me. Yet you have the nerve to run away from me, to steal from me, to throw it all back in my face! You don’t get to do that, sweetheart. You and me… we aren’t finished.”
I shake my head, my eyes stinging with tears. “I’m finished, Elio, and I swear, if you don’t leave me alone, I will report you to the police.”
He narrows his eyes. “I’ll think about leaving you alone when you give me that million dollars. Where is my money?”
Anxiety courses through my veins, but I know I’m making the right choice when I say, “You won’t get another cent from me. You can post that picture far and wide. I don’t care. I’m not going to let you ruin me again, and I sure as hell won’t let you control me.”
Without warning, he grips my wrist with bruising force. My breath hitches in my throat.
“Don’t make the wrong decision. You’ll live to regret it.”
“The only thing I regret is letting you into my life.” I yank my arm away. “Now leave me alone. Go home, and don’t come back.”
“Is this what you want?” He holds up the picture of me in Roman’s lap vehemently. “You want the world to see you’re a slut?”
I roll my eyes. “When you post that picture, the world will see how manipulative assholes like you are. How you prey on women, use them, shame them, because you think you’re above us. Because you think we owe you something. Fuck you, Elio.”
Without thinking, I knock the phone from his hand and dig the heel of my boot into the screen. It cracks with a satisfying crunch, and for a moment, I don’t feel weak at all. I feel like the strongest woman in the world.
“You bitch!”
Before he can grab me, he’s intercepted by a tall frame clad in a long black coat.
Roman.
His back blocks me from viewing Elio’s features, but I can imagine the fear on his face. He was always spineless, deep down.
I step back, surprised by his appearance. My gaze rises above the terrace, where Chloe winces apologetically and mouths, “Sorry!”
She texted him? Not Brandon?
I wish I could be angry, but Roman’s presence leaves me awash with relief, like stepping into a steaming hot bubble bath after a day of standing in the cold.
His gloved fingers curl around Elio’s collar. “If I were you, I’d disappear before I make you live to regret every single fucked-up thing you ever did to her. Pieces of shit like you belong face-down in the fucking Hudson. Get out of here now, and don’t ever try to contact her again. And believe me—” Roman leans in close, baring his teeth at Elio. He’s so threatening that I barely recognize him. My stomach squirms, but I’m too frozen to stop him. “—I have resources. I’ll know if you don’t get on the next plane back to Italy.”
“Roman,” I whisper, but it’s impossible to penetrate this armor, this anger.
His shoulders ripple as he tightens his grip around Elio. “Nod, if you understand.”
Elio nods, mouth agape and chin wobbling. When Roman sets him down, he scuttles away, but not without sending a final glare my way. His broken phone remains abandoned on the stone. I pick it up and throw it in the fountain, biting my lip to keep the tears at bay.
“I’m so sorry,” I begin, whipping around to Roman. I don’t get a chance to see his expression. He pulls me into his chest, smoothing down my hair and holding me tightly. A sob falls out of me, my tears soaking into his coat as he whispers soothing words.
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” He cups my jaw, brushing my tears away. “Why didn’t you tell me, baby? I could have fixed this.”
“I didn’t want you to think I was weak. I didn’t want you to see how pathetic he made me.” My throat cracks with another sob. Any hope of pretending, of letting him think I’m strong, has evaporated. I can’t keep my emotions at bay — fear, relief, pain. “I was so small in Italy, Roman. He made me think I was nothing, and if you ever thought that?—”
