Chapter Five

64.1K 2.1K 3.4K

I managed to beat Vincenzo back to the Greco Estate. I left my motorcycle in the corner of the garage and covered it so that no one would notice that I had taken it out in this weather. Salvatore and Vincenzo didn't like me riding it, but I think that's probably why I enjoyed it so much. I was never one for sticking to the rules, anyway.

I made my way through the foyer and headed for the staircase leading to the upper floor, where all the bedrooms were. I passed several servants on the way. They would all pause what they were doing and give me a slight nod of the head.

They'd greet me with, "Welcome home, Signora." I'd flash them a fake smile-more common than my real ones these days-and greet them all by their first names. I loved seeing the surprise on their faces, as if they wouldn't expect me to remember all of their names. The truth is, I couldn't risk not knowing their names. Loyalty was important, even among your lowest ranks, and it was amazing the amount of loyalty that something as small as remembering a name could generate.

I headed down the familiar hallway, still feeling the nostalgia. Salvatore and I had only gotten back from Sicily, Italy a few months ago, and being back inside my childhood home was... strange, to say the least. The last time I had been here I had been kidnapped by the Costa and they...

Well, never mind. That was a long time ago.

I paused just outside the door to what was once my bedroom. It was Sophia's now, since Salvatore had insisted we claim the larger guest room further down the hall as our own. She was probably fast asleep.

My hand reached for the doorknob, but froze just before my fingertips touched the metal. I took a deep breath and let my arm fall to my side before turning and stalking towards my room-well, technically it was Salvatore's and my room-our room.

I didn't have time to waste, Vincenzo would be arriving any second.

It was the second biggest master bedroom in the Estate, the first obviously belonging to my father. It was the guest room my uncle Vittorio and his wife stayed in whenever he was visiting, but ever since Salvatore and I returned from Italy it was converted into our permanent bedroom.

All the furniture in the room was made with heavy, dark wood, like the rest of the house. There was a four poster king-sized bed at the back of the room, a vanity with a huge mirror and a stool, two tall dressers, a large walk-in-closet, and a small wooden bar in the corner stocked only with a crystal scotch decanter and a few glasses for said scotch. Salvatore liked to pretend he was some sort of scotch connoisseur, so he always liked to have some nearby.

I made a beeline for the walk-in-closet and, once inside, dropped my purse onto the floor and turned to look into the mirror that took up one entire wall of the closet. I found judgmental green eyes peering into me, and I felt something inside me burn.

It was strange, not always recognizing your own reflection.

Instead, the woman staring back at me seemed foreign, like an imposter. Or maybe I was the imposter, and she was the real me. Sometimes I wasn't sure.

I looked tired, my dark hair in disarray from the wind, snow, and the helmet. I quickly ran my hands through it but to no avail, it still looked like shit.

I shrugged off my leather jacket and then discarded the rest of my clothes as fast as I could. I heard the door open and close.

Shit. Vincenzo was here already? I hadn't had any time to mix his drink yet.

I put on a sheer, red slip and panties to match. It was his favorite.

I took a deep breath and checked out my outfit in the mirror before turning and emerging from the closet.

Lost Then FoundWhere stories live. Discover now