Page 98 of Trapped

“I’m telling you this because if we have any chance together, you need to know the whole story.”

The photos blurred as tears welled in my eyes. The idea that my family could be responsible for such heartless brutality was overwhelming. As I sat there, a desperate thought flickered in my mind. The Luca I knew could really be Santino’s cousin.

“Is there any chance Luca could have survived the fire?”

Santino’s eyebrows knitted together. “Everybody died.”

“How do you know that?”

He shrugged. “They’re all gone.”

“But what if?—”

He sighed. “Delilah, let it go.”

My heart hammered. “Santino, I think he’s still alive.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen him before?—”

“Baby, that’s just not possible.”

Santino kissed my cheek. I barely felt the warmth on my cold skin. His family believed he was dead, but Luca was very much alive. I needed to make him listen.

My phone shrieked.

I sat up, grabbing it from the nightstand. Notifications popped on the screen. Dozens of them from the security cameras mounted at the store. My heart hammered as I opened the live camera feed filled with swirling plumes of black smoke. Flames ate up the freshly painted walls.

My store was on fire.

THIRTY-TWO

DELILAH

We got there too late.

The boutique was a charred husk, the half-finished mural smeared with soot and streaks of water. Firefighters milled around, packing up hoses and equipment, the last wisps of smoke curling into the blue sky. I stumbled out of the car, my heart sinking as I took in the devastation.

Santino grabbed my arm, steadying me. “Delilah, wait.”

I couldn’t. I pushed past him and into the store, my boots crunching on shattered glass and debris. The air was thick with the acrid stench of burned fabric and paint. Everything was ruined—racks of vintage clothes were reduced to damp, smoky tatters, and the beautiful fixtures I’d handpicked were scorched beyond recognition.

Only a few boxes in the back, somehow shielded from the worst of the fire and water, had survived. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. Tears blurred my vision as I surveyed the wreckage of what was supposed to be my new beginning.

Santino’s hand settled on my shoulder, his touch gentle.

I shook my head, despair hollowing out my voice. “It’s all gone.”

He didn’t respond right away, just stood there with me in the ruin. “This isn’t the end. We’ll rebuild everything.”

I looked up at him, trying to breathe through my tears. “From what? Everything is destroyed. All the vintage clothing I spentmonthssourcing. How do I even start over from this?”

“We’ll find out what happened,” His jaw tightened, anger simmering in his eyes. “And I’ll punish the bastards responsible.”

“Dimitri did this. He wants to punish me for leaving him. He knew this would break me.”

“He won’t get away with this.”

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