Page 30 of Forbidden

“Yeah.” I pick at a thread on my jeans, thinking about the years of scraping by, Mom forgetting who we were half the time. “We made it, though.”

She nods, and we sit there for a minute, just breathing in the quiet. Then she shifts, setting the magazine down. “So, what’s up with you? How’s it like working for Adriano Vieri?” She drags out his name like there’s a hidden meaning to it.

“Not as bad as I thought. I have a shitting manager but it’s fine. Pays the bills. But there are just some things about his business that marvels me and…” I hesitate, fiddling with my hair. “You ever hear anything weird about Adriano?”

Her face tightens, just a flicker, but I catch it. “Weird how?”

“I don’t know. Just… stuff.” I tug my ponytail tighter, avoiding her eyes. “He’s got all these guys around him all the time. I know he’s into big gangs here in the city but I always just thought it was power vibes. Maybe he had to work with them for business. You ever wonder what he’s really into?”

She snorts, crossing her arms. “Pen, we’ve talked about this. He’s not just a jewelry guy or some rich entrepreneur. Never has been.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I sit up, voice sharper than I mean it to be.

“It means he’s got shadows. Deep ones.” She leans closer, dropping her voice. “I’ve heard things. Remember how I said he tortured a man for days when we talked when you first arrived? Well, what did you think I was talking about? People whisper. He’s not just petty muscle, he’s bigger. Darker. Maybe even moving shit that’d make your skin crawl.”

“Like what?” My heart kicks hard, but I force a laugh. “Come on, Gianna. Trafficking? That’s crazy.”

“Is it?” She tilts her head, eyes piercing. “You work for him. You see the kind of cars he drives. Can all of that money be from being a good investor or what? You see him. Tell me I’m wrong.”

At this moment, I want to spill it all—Theo’s blood on the floor, Adriano’s possessive nature, his hands on me and indifference, the way he fucked me against that wall while a body cooled nearby. But my throat locks up.

“You’re reaching,” I say instead, shoving the truth down deep.

“Am I?” She sighs, rubbing her temples. “Look, I get it. He’s hot, he’s intense, you’ve got a crush. But Pen, he’s not safe. How are we sure Sophia’s death wasn’t from something he did?”

“Gianna! How can you say that? After all he’s done for us.”

“I was just speculating, sis. Honestly don’t mind me, I know he is a good man underneath all that darkness, but you wanted to know if there was anything weird or unusual about him and I told you my own scattered thoughts. But these are things I have heard. It doesn’t mean I believe them.”

I roll my eyes, but my mind is racing. Could this actually be true? No way, his shady deals had something to do with Sophia. And trafficking? Well, I might have to check the facts since I already know murder is a done deal. Maybe this is all true. Now that I think about it, it fits—too well. His sudden possessiveness and the way he controls everything. I’ve been screwing a man who might be a monster, and I didn’t even ask. What does that make me?

Back home, I’m wiping down the kitchen counter when I spot it—a tiny black lens tucked behind the coffee maker. My stomach drops. I yank it out, fingers trembling, and find another in the living room, then the kitchen. Fucking cameras. I don’t find any in my bedroom, but I wouldn’t put it past him to keep those even more hidden.

So Adriano’s eyes have been everywhere? Watching me shower, sleeping, maybe even touching myself. Heat floods my face, then rage. He’s sick. Obsessed. And I’m the idiot who let him in.

I grab my keys and storm out, driving to his penthouse with my pulse hammering. The elevator ride up feels like forever, my fists clenching tighter with every floor. I bang on his door, ready to rip him apart. It swings open, and there he is—tall, shadowed, gray eyes locking onto mine. But he’s not alone. A woman stands behind him, blonde and polished, her hand resting on his arm like she belongs there.

“Penelope,” he says, voice rough, stepping forward.

“Who the hell is she?” I jab a finger at the woman.

There’s a satisfied curl of her lip, then she steps up beside him and speaks at the same time he does.

“Charlotte. And she was just leaving.”

“Charlotte. His fiancée.”

The word slams into me, knocking the air out. Fiancée. My knees wobble, but I lock them, glaring at him. “What the fuck, Adriano?”

“It’s not what you think,” he growls, reaching for me. I slap his hand away.

“Not what I think? You’ve got cameras in my place, and now this bitch says she’s marrying you?” I laugh, bitter and loud. “You’re a real piece of work.”

Charlotte crosses her arms, her slow-spreading smile wider. “He didn’t tell you? Typical. Always keeping his toys in the dark.”

“Shut up,” he snaps at her, then turns to me. “Penelope, listen. I can explain.”

“Bullshit,” I spit, stepping back. “You’ve been playing me this whole time.”

---