Page 90 of Brutal Revenge

The magazines crinkle beneath me as I flop back to hide my watering eyes with my forearm. I squash my arm close to stop the sting, but the tears still come. Hot and humiliating, they slide down my cheeks unchecked.

I feel so stupid, but this, the way Matteo looked at me before he stormed out, hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced.

Why didn’t he deny my claims? Why didn’t he say I was wrong? He could have told me he didn’t want me to go back to Antonio, and I would have been just as open and honest.

I would have told himeverything.

Instead, I roll onto my side, curl myself around a pillow, and wish I could rewind the last hour.

No number of silent prayers works, so after a handful more tears, I dust myself off by repeatedly reminding myself why I’m in Sicily.

It isn’t for Matteo Caruso, and it most certainly isn’t to fall in love.

Chapter 27

Azra

It’s been nearly twenty-four hours since my fight with Matteo. The silence between us feels suffocating, and my chest hums with tension every time I breathe. I keep telling myself I shouldn’t care so much, that the hollow ache from him not returning to his room last night brings me closer to my dreams. But the truth is, I do care. The ache is real, and the emptiness he left behind feels too vast for someone who was never supposed to matter.

A tray of food appeared outside my door after sunset. I stared at it for a long time, trying to decide whether it was from Matteo or someone else. Not being able to tell made everything worse. If it was him, then he still cares enough to make sure I eat. If it wasn’t, then he doesn’t care enough to check on me at all. Both possibilities hurt in different ways.

Everyone has been distant today. Anyone would swear I was the one who broke Matteo’s heart instead of the other way around. The awkwardness has grown so dense that I’ve caught myself wishing I could leave.

I can’t, though. I’m not Antonio’s bride yet.

Until that happens, I have nowhere else to go.

Walking down the stairwell, I smooth the fabric of the dress Matteopicked for me. Tonight is the private event we’re scheduled to attend. We’re supposed to show up together and keep up the ruse that’s become more complicated than I expected.

Valentina waits at the bottom of the stairs. When she looks up, her expression softens, making me feel both comforted and exposed. “Azra… you look beautiful.” Her voice is gentle, but her eyes carry a sadness I haven’t yet accepted.

I muster a smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Elio and Nico near the foyer. Elio is holding Nico back and whispering something low and urgent into his ear.

Seeing them almost come to blows twists my stomach. I’m skeptical they’re talking about me, but I sense the pressure of their attention, spotlighting my every move.

“Have you seen Matteo?” I ask Valentina. I keep my voice light, even though my pulse is pounding in my throat. “We need to leave soon or we’ll be late. Tardiness and I aren’t friends.”

She gives me another soft smile. This one is even sadder than the first.

“Are you okay?”

Before she can respond, Giovanni clears his throat. “Matteo said he’ll meet you there.”

My balk is strong enough to ripple the air. “He left?”

Giovanni nods. “About an hour ago.”

His response hits me like a punch. Matteo leaving without me feels like a punishment, but it also confirms everything I feared last night.

This is just a game to him.

I nod, pretending his humiliating dismissal doesn’t matter.

I’m a horrible actor.

With his hand on my back, Giovanni walks me outside and assists me into an SUV. As I settle into the seat, my eyes drift toward the garage, searching for something I know I won’t find.