Sin and Redemption
: Chapter 4

Mom kept glancing my way on our way home from the doctor. Two bodyguards sat in the front while we were in the back seat of the SUV. Four more bodyguards followed us in two black cars. I’d never been on the receiving end of so much protection, but I had been glad. Of course, even my protection had been upped after bikers had kidnapped Marcella, but I’d still enjoyed so much freedom.

I swallowed as my thoughts drifted back to what had happened. Goose bumps rose on my skin, and I shivered. The movement increased the soreness between my legs, another reminder of the horrors of this day.

Is there a chance of a pregnancy?

The doctor’s question flashed in my mind. Mom had been horrified, and so had I. Until that moment, I hadn’t even considered that this humiliation might lead to further consequences.

I shivered again. I hadn’t been able to answer the question. I wasn’t stupid. Of course, I knew that intercourse always meant a chance of conception, but the chances would increase drastically if Maximus…

I stopped myself from following that train of thought. I wanted to forget, to pretend it never happened.

Mom squeezed my hand even tighter. “We’ll get through this. No matter what happens next, we’ll get through this as a family.”

“I’m supposed to marry in two months.”

“You’re still marrying—” Mom searched my face. Nobody would have pegged her for a woman in her mid-forties, but she looked her age today. Her naturally dark blond hair hardly showed any gray, and except for a few fine lines around her eyes from smiling so much, she had no wrinkles. “Unless you don’t want to.”

I wasn’t sure what I wanted. But if I was pregnant with Maximus’s child, I couldn’t marry another man.

“I’m sure Paolo will gladly raise the child as his own.”

Sometimes it was scary how well Mom knew my train of thought. I bit my lip, my eyes burning with a new wave of tears. Would Paolo really want that? Did I? “I don’t want a child from an act like that.”

Mom swallowed, then nodded slowly. “Of course, I understand. If you’re pregnant, we’ll deal with it.”

Mom wasn’t fond of abortions, but I knew she’d have my back no matter what I decided. Deep down, I knew that I would keep the baby because I wasn’t sure if I could live with the guilt. Unlike many other girls who faced the same impossible decision, I had enough family support and money. “I’ll keep it if I’m pregnant. But I hope I’m not.”

Mom squeezed my hand again, but we didn’t talk anymore. I was exhausted, mentally and physically, in a way I’d never experienced. My body wanted to sleep, but my mind was scared of the images I’d relive.

When we arrived at our home, I felt a sense of safety I hadn’t until now. My body ached faintly, but the painkillers had started to kick in. Usually, I wouldn’t have taken meds for the level of discomfort I felt between my legs, but I just didn’t want to be reminded of what had happened every moment of the day. It wouldn’t be easy to forget, but I wanted to try.

“I left Inessa and Alea with Aria in the Hamptons so you can recover in a quiet surrounding.”

Mom meant well, but quiet was the last thing I wanted right now. I feared the voices I’d hear once it became quiet around me. I wanted distraction and normalcy. I wanted to be the Sara from this morning, not the one I could feel myself turning into. I wanted to cozy up with a sweet small-town romance, eat homemade cookies, and listen to my sisters’ bickering. I wanted to be safe in the knowledge of what my future held.

“Oh, you want them home?” Mom said after a glance at my face. “I just thought…” She let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t really think. I just did what I hoped was best.”

“It’s okay. Let them stay with Aunt Aria tonight. It’s already too late to have them come home. Maybe it’s better if I have until tomorrow to compose myself before they see me. I don’t want them to be worried about me.” I hesitated. “Do they know what happened?”

“We didn’t tell them much, just that you were captured but could be saved quickly.”

Not quick enough. My belly constricted. We got out of the car. Two bodyguards followed us. I was glad I couldn’t read anyone’s thoughts. Their expressions were enough to make me want to hide.

It was already half past eight, but I was scared to go up to my room alone despite my need to shower. “Can you come with me? I need to grab a shower…” Tears welled up in my eyes. Even our cozy home, a place that had always made me feel safe and happy, only made me realize how much had changed since this morning. Looking at the many family photos on our walls depicting a smiling Sara with bright, hopeful eyes felt like a slap.

Mom nodded quickly, her fight for composure as clear as day on her face.

I didn’t break down in the shower as I’d feared. I felt oddly detached from myself, from the situation…maybe it was a temporary thing, my mind’s way to protect me. I was glad for the reprieve.

After the shower, Mom and I curled up on the sofa in our living room, covered with wool blankets, and watched a Disney movie. My mind was far away, but seeing the colorful images rush by felt good. I was glad Mom had decided against our usual choice of a clichéd, romantic Hallmark movie. The mere idea of seeing people being romantic when my chances of ever experiencing the same were nil made me recoil.

My eyes began to droop when the lock disengaged, and Flavio and Dad returned home. Mom sat up, and I did too. Dad and my brother looked exhausted and guilty. Guilt was always involved for mafia men when their girls or women got hurt.

“It’s not your fault, Flavio,” I said firmly before he could utter an apology. “There were too many. You alone couldn’t have done anything different from…” I took a deep breath. “Maximus.”

Saying his name took effort. I hadn’t even dared to think about him up to this point.

His brown brows drew together, a muscle in his jaw working as he processed my words. “We don’t know that, and I’ll always wonder…”

“We’ll get revenge. Luca gave Flavio, Maximus, and me the okay to focus our efforts on replaceing the culprits. Maddox will help too.”

Surprise shot through me. Dad’s expression became cautious and concerned. “Sara. Luca won’t punish Maximus. And I chose not to ask him to.”

Mom’s face twisted with disbelief, and she sat up straight on the sofa. “You can’t be serious!” Her anger on my behalf felt good, even if I didn’t share it. I wasn’t sure what I felt toward Maximus. I simply didn’t want to think about him at all.

“You didn’t watch the video, Lily,” Dad implored.

“Oh God,” I whispered, realizing what that meant. Dad and Flavio had watched the video… I shot to my feet and ran upstairs. Stumbling through my open door, I flung myself onto my bed. I shivered, and my eyes burned fiercely, but the tears didn’t fall. I felt like crying, but I couldn’t. I felt like I might throw up, though.

Steps made the wooden floorboards creak. I knew it was Dad without looking over my shoulder. He smelled like the aftershave I associated with him and a hint of gunpowder.

The mattress dipped. “I’m sorry, Sara. Part of me wants to kill Maximus, but…”

“It’s not that,” I whispered. “I didn’t want you to watch.”

Dad was silent. Even though I didn’t want to, I looked up. His face was full of anguish. I reached for his hand resting on his knee. “You shouldn’t be the one consoling me, Sara.” He wrapped his fingers around my hand and squeezed. “That’s my job.”

His soft gaze was worried, a typical Dad expression. I’d expected a different expression after he’d watched the video, but he still looked at me like he’d always done. To him, I was still the Sara from this morning, but I could tell she was already gone.

My sisters’ chatter woke me. I sat up slowly in my bed, wincing at the soreness between my legs. I still felt sluggish. Last night had been the first time I’d ever taken something to help me sleep. Despite being scared of possible nightmares, I’d been even more desperate for the day to end.

The effects of the sleeping pills still seemed to have a hold on my body. With a deep breath, I forced myself to get up. Mornings meant new beginnings, a chance for something good to happen. That had always been a firm belief of mine, and I wouldn’t allow anything to change that.

I got dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the weekend, so I didn’t have any classes. Still, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept until almost noon. I wasn’t a partygoer, so I usually woke up early.

Following my sisters’ fighting, I left my room and found them in Inessa’s room. Inessa was seven years and Alea was nine years younger than me. They argued all the time.

I leaned against the doorframe of their shared room and watched them as they argued over a broken hairband. They both had inherited Mom’s dark blond hair, but where Inessa’s eyes were blue, Alea’s were brown like mine.

Alea was the first one to notice me. She fell silent, soon followed by Inessa, who stopped midsentence.

“Sara!” Alea shouted and rushed toward me. The air left my lungs when she collided with my belly. I hugged her with a small smile. Inessa joined us and hugged me too. She looked at my face. “Are you hurt?”

I’d asked my parents to keep the details of my captivity from them. They were too young to understand. I could only hope nobody told them about the video. My belly did a flip, and for a moment, I was sure I’d throw up.

“I’m okay,” I said.

I needed them to believe it so I could start believing it too.

“We were so scared!” Alea exclaimed.

I nodded. I’d never understood the true meaning of fear, of stark, body-numbing fear until yesterday. I prayed my sisters would never experience it.

“Where’s Mom?”

“Cooking,” Inessa said.

I should probably consider eating something as I hadn’t had anything in twenty-four hours. I wasn’t sure my stomach was ready for anything, though.

I headed to the kitchen, where Mom was busy preparing minestrone for lunch. The kitchen smelled of the intense vegetable and parmesan broth. I drew in a deep breath, letting happy memories from the past flood me. I had so many wonderful memories. I just needed to make sure they would beat the one dark one I’d added to the list yesterday.

“Sara’s finally up!” Alea announced as she and Inessa entered the kitchen after me.

Mom whirled around, her eyes locking on me. The concern in her eyes was so strong, I was sure even Alea and Inessa couldn’t miss it.

“Are you hungry?”

I shook my head. My belly still felt as if I was in a boat during a heavy storm.

“You should eat,” Mom encouraged gently. The plea in her voice finally won me over. I could only imagine how much she worried about me. I didn’t want to give her another reason.

“How can I resist your minestrone?” I took a seat at the wooden table. Most days, we had breakfast and lunch in our big kitchen. We only ate dinner in the living room when Dad and Flavio joined us.

Inessa, Alea, and Mom joined me at the table, and we dug in. Despite my nausea, I forced a few spoons of soup down. It tasted as delicious as always, but I simply couldn’t eat more. I leaned back and enjoyed Alea and Inessa’s bickering. Those two loved each other dearly, but not a day passed when they didn’t fight.

A message lit up Mom’s phone from where it rested on the table beside her bowl of soup. She usually didn’t allow phones at the table. Maybe Dad and Flavio were sending her updates.

The screen lit up again just when Mom pulled it away from the table, obviously to hide it from me. Too late.

Paolo’s father.

Oh god. I hadn’t thought about Paolo at all since my conversation with Mom in the car. Paolo, my fiancé. The man I was supposed to marry in two months, in a wedding our mothers had planned for over a year.

Mom gave me a tight smile. Did she really think I hadn’t seen who had written her?

“They know?”

Mom nodded. “They were just asking how you feel.”

If that were the case, why did Mom hide her phone the moment she saw who it was?

I wasn’t sure where my phone was. Had it been destroyed during the crash? Or had the Russians destroyed it to avoid it being tracked?

“Where’s my phone?”

Mom got up and took it from the kitchen counter. The screen had a crack, but when I turned it on, it worked as always.

Soon, messages started flooding in.

“We messaged you last night. We didn’t know you didn’t have your phone,” Inessa said, looking up from her bowl, her spoon an inch from her lips.

I scanned my messenger. There were messages from my sisters, Valerio, Gianna, Aria, Marcella, and Isabella. Not one from Paolo. If he and his parents wanted to inquire about my health, he could have messaged me. I opened Isa’s message first.

If you want to talk, I’m in the gym operating the counter today. It’ll be boring as hell. Many hugs.

Isa and I were cousins and liked each other, but we were different. She was three years younger than me, so we’d never hung out together. She, Flavio, and Valerio had always been inseparable, and I didn’t want to meddle with their bond. Isa had been kidnapped three months ago. She’d never talked to me about the incident, and I had never dared to ask. Maybe it was time to change that.

I opened the other messages, but they all basically told me the same.

“There isn’t a message from Paolo,” I said, disappointed.

Mom put her spoon down, and her smile became even tighter. “Maybe he wants to give you some space.”

“Maybe.” I could tell that Mom was keeping something from me. I didn’t want to think about Paolo and my wedding right now. Part of me felt guilty, almost as if I had any say in what had happened. On an intellectual level, I knew that was nonsense, but that didn’t change what I felt. “I would like to see Isa in the gym today. She invited me over.”

Mom’s eyes widened in shock. She got up and picked up our bowls. I immediately helped her while Inessa and Alea wiped the table and loaded the dishwasher. “Do you think it’s a good idea to go out yet?”

“I won’t hide.”

“You shouldn’t hide, but…” Mom leaned against the kitchen counter, the dish towel clutched in her hands as she watched me with furrowed brows. “You seem so… composed. I’m worried you’re trying to be strong for our sake.” The last she whispered so Alea and Inessa, who were singing a song from Taylor Swift at the top of their lungs, couldn’t hear her.

“Would you prefer if I broke down and cried?” I swallowed hard because I could feel a storm brewing deep inside me, and I was terrified of the destruction it might cause if unleashed. I wanted my old life. I wanted normalcy. I never broke down. I was never overly emotional. I was reliable and calm. Maybe it came with being the eldest child. When Mom had struggled after giving birth to Alea, I had taken over responsibilities. Even when things had become easier after a few months, I had just never stopped being a sort of shadow parent.

Mom touched my shoulder. “Of course not. I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, Mom. But life has to go on.”

Mom’s eyes glistened, but she nodded resolutely and picked up her phone. “I’ll see if your father or Flavio have time to take you there. I’m sure it’ll do you good to talk to Isa.”

Thirty minutes later, Dad and Matteo picked me up. I was surprised to see my uncle.

“Your mom said you are determined to see Isa in the gym. Are you well enough to go out?” Dad asked as he held the door to the black limousine open for me while Matteo sat in the driver’s seat.

“I’m not injured,” I said. The abrasions were hardly worth mentioning, and the soreness was better by now. Dad wasn’t referring to physical scars, though. The two showers I’d taken this morning had definitely helped a lot—not only with the soreness but also with the icky feeling.

I got into the back seat. Matteo smiled at me.

“I didn’t expect you,” I told him.

“It’s been a while since I’ve visited Gianna in the gym. Today’s a good day to change that,” he said after a searching look at my face.

Dad sat down in the back seat with me. I gave him a curious look, but he only smiled. Did they think I didn’t know what was going on? They were upping my protection. I’d seen Marcella and Isabella lose many freedoms after they became victims of our world.

I tried not to think about the fact that Matteo had probably seen the video of me too. If I wanted to live my life, I needed to forget about that.

When we stepped into the Famiglia gym, my cousin Isa was indeed behind the reception desk, but she was immersed in a book propped up against the computer screen. Isa’s mother, my aunt Gianna, owned the gym. Through the glass wall on the right, I could see her giving a yoga course to half a dozen women, all of them familiar faces.

“Your vigilance is lacking,” Matteo said to Isa as he approached her and pressed a kiss to her temple. She made a face. “Oh please, guards are everywhere.”

Her eyes moved past her father to me. She didn’t smile, for which I was oddly grateful. I didn’t really feel like pretend smiling either. Her glasses were propped up on top of her head, hugging the messy bun in which her maroon hair was put up. She reminded me a lot of my aunt Gianna.

“I’ll sit here while you chat,” Dad said as he sank down on one of the chairs in the small waiting area.

“I’ll take over the reception,” Matteo said.

The gym area with the machines was on the left, and several women working out there kept throwing curious looks our way.

“This is a women’s gym. Our customers won’t feel comfortable if men are everywhere,” Isa said.

Matteo sank down on the chair behind the counter and propped up his feet on a second chair. “They’ll be fine.”

“Mom won’t be happy,” Isa said with a small shrug as she motioned me toward her. Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on me by now. I cringed and followed Isa into the office.

She still carried the book that she’d been reading. She pointed at the plush sofa. “Get comfy.” Then she walked toward an old-fashioned coffee maker where everything still had to be done by hand. “Espresso?”

I shook my head and plopped down on the sofa, sinking into the soft cushions. “Too strong for me. I prefer tea.”

“I live off caffeine. I’m trying to channel my inner Stephen King without resorting to taking heroin or booze.” She prepared an espresso. The rattling and whizzing of the machine filled the room, and I decided I quite liked the sound. Isa was focused on preparing her espresso, so I got the chance to watch her closely.

Her own kidnapping had been three months ago after Amo’s wedding. From what I knew, neither she nor her mother had been hurt seriously during the incident, but I still noticed changes in Isa whenever I saw her. She was even more serious and withdrawn than before, always immersed in a book or scribbling on a notepad.

She headed over to me with her espresso cup and a bottle of water. I realized she wasn’t wearing shoes, only oversized wool socks she’d pulled up to her knees. One was pink, the other purple, and the only dash of color in her otherwise black outfit of leggings, pinafore dress, and turtleneck shirt. She held out the water bottle. I took it but didn’t drink. Isa sank down beside me and took a sip from her espresso. “Did you know Stephen King wrote The Shining while under the influence of alcohol and heroin? And he doesn’t even remember writing Cujo.”

“I hope you’re not thinking about trying the same,” I said. “But considering the disturbing nature of many of his books, I’m not surprised.” Not that I had read many of them. I didn’t have the stomach for them, and now that my own life had been touched by darkness in this life-altering way even less.

Isa made a shocked face. “Disturbing but genius. And if you don’t like disturbing books, you shouldn’t read mine.”

“You wrote a book?”

Isa flushed and took another sip from her espresso, which meant the cup was already empty. I never understood the need for an espresso. I liked drinks that lasted. Nothing was better than hugging a big mug of tea in my palms and feeling it slowly grow colder as I inhaled the comforting scent. “I’m mostly working on short stories and novellas, but I’m also working on a book, yes.”

“Wow.” I searched her face. “Do you use it to work through what happened?”

Isa put down the tiny cup and leaned back against the armrest, pulling one of her legs against her chest. She looked straight into my eyes. I could tell she was weighing how much to share. I doubted she was someone who talked about things that bothered her with many people, if at all.

“My writing has become more jaded and darker. It’s also gotten better. I read somewhere that great writers are born from trauma. Not sure it’s true, but writing has definitely become an outlet.”

She blew a few strands of her maroon hair out of her face. Her messy bun barely contained her wild mane anymore. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I was torn. I had come here to talk to Isa, but I was also terrified of how putting my fears into words would make them more real. Last night’s nightmare about our capturer’s leering face had shaken me up. “I’m worried about how yesterday will shape me and the future. I don’t want one bad thing to determine everything else. I don’t want to give them the power. But some things are out of my control, and it really scares me.”

Isa nodded. She tilted her head. “What’s out of your control? Are you worried you could be kidnapped again?”

That wasn’t even something I’d considered yet. I slowly shook my head. Dad would never allow that to happen. My life of going somewhere without bodyguards was definitely over. “I doubt it’ll happen again. It’s just… I worry about how people will treat me after learning what happened.”

“You can’t change people. Some of them will always talk shit. They like to gossip. You are a survivor, so don’t mind these idiots. Karma will pay them back.”

I let out a small laugh, but I quickly sobered up again. “You know that some people always blame us when things like that happen.”

“You mean being sexually assaulted?”

I swallowed; even just giving it a name made my stomach plummet. “Yeah.”

She sighed. “We women always get screwed over.” She sank her teeth into her lower lip. “I know it might seem impossible right now, but eventually, what happened won’t be at the forefront of your thoughts anymore.”

“Is it for you?”

Isa shrugged. “It’s still there, mainly at night or when I get startled by a noise, but it’s better. I’m glad there’s war, so I won’t have to see any Falcones anytime soon.” She grimaced. “That part will be harder for you.”

“I rarely saw Maximus in the past, and that won’t change in the future. And the Russians…I doubt I’ll ever see them again.”

Isa let out a humorless laugh. “They’ll probably all be dead within a year, don’t worry.”

I wondered if she wished that upon her kidnappers, upon the Unholy Trinity. They’d probably not be served justice, whatever that was.

Isa and I chatted for a few more minutes about her books before we returned to the lobby. Dad was still on his chair, but Matteo was gone. Gianna was no longer in the yoga room either. Her course was obviously over. “My parents are probably arguing somewhere,” Isa said with a small shrug as if it was no big deal. I’d never heard my parents argue. I wasn’t sure if they simply never fought or were just very good at hiding their arguments from my siblings and me.

The door to the gym opened, and Cara stepped inside, dressed in gym clothes with her brown hair up in a high ponytail. She was Maximus’s mother. She froze in her tracks with wide eyes when she spotted me, and I did the same. Her eyes were blue, not the startling auburn of her son, and I was glad they didn’t share many physical features.

She was quicker to recover. Her expression became compassionate, and I dreaded what she’d say. Being reminded of Maximus came too soon. I wanted to ban him from my thoughts, but her presence ripped open wounds.

“I’m so sorry, Sara,” she whispered. “I know it might be hard to hear, but Maximus is distraught. He didn’t want any of this.”

“Cara,” Dad said in a hard tone as he rose from his chair. “That’s enough. Sara doesn’t need to hear this now. She’s got enough on her plate.”

She squared her shoulders. “You’re looking out for your child, Romero, and I’m looking out for mine. Maximus was a victim in this too.”

I could see the worry on Cara’s face for her son. I wanted to tell her that I understood and didn’t want Maximus to feel guilty, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. I just wanted to leave.

“It’s different,” Matteo, who had entered the scene without my noticing, said. “Maximus is a tough guy. He’ll survive.”

“That’s some serious sexism there, Dad,” Isa said, crossing her arms. “Men can be victims of sexual abuse too.”

“I’m sure it can be the case, Isa,” Matteo said in a voice that suggested he wasn’t convinced.

Dad put a hand on my shoulder. “We need to leave now.” I gave a terse nod. My throat was too tight to reply.

Talking to Isa had helped me, but what came afterward had opened the can of worms I wanted to keep closed. I didn’t want to think about Maximus because that meant reliving the details of what happened. I just couldn’t do it now. I wanted to have my old life back, and that wouldn’t happen if I broke down.

It probably wouldn’t happen at all.