Page 21 of Alessia
6 - Harper
The night air bites at my skin, sharp and unforgiving, but I don’t stop. I can’t. My feet hit the pavement hard, my breath coming in short, uneven bursts. The world around me is a blur, streetlights streaking past, the distant hum of traffic, the rhythmic pounding of my heartbeat in my ears.
I don’t know where I’m going. I just know I need to go.
Alessia’s words are still ringing in my head, looping like some sick joke.
“I’m a mafia princess.”…
“I’m going to take over my father’s empire.”…
“I wanted to protect you.”…
A harsh laugh forces its way out of my throat. Protect me? She lied to me. She made me believe she was something — someone else — and now she thinks she can just tell me the truth and I’ll what? Fall into her arms?
I swipe angrily at my face, refusing to let the stinging in my eyes turn into tears. I won’t cry. I won’t, I barely know her, for crying out loud.
The cityfeels different now. The familiar streets, the ones I’ve walked a thousand times before, suddenly seem darker, harsher. Like I can’t trust what’s lurking around the next corner.
How could I have been so stupid?
How could I have let myself start to believe in her?
I slow to a stop. My breath is shaky, my fingers trembling at my sides. The weight of it all presses down on me, making my chest ache in a way I don’t know how to fix.
Because the worst part isn’t that Alessia lied. It’s that some part of me, some stupid, reckless part of me, still wants to turn back.
I force myself to take a deep breath, then another, but it does nothing to stop the chaos in my head. My hands are still shaking as I step toward the curb. My movements jerky and unsteady, like my body hasn’t caught up to what my mind already knows. This is over. It has to be.
A yellow cab rounds the corner, its headlights cutting through the darkness, and I throw up a hand without thinking. The tires screech softly as they slow to a stop in front of me.
I yank open the door and slide inside, the warmth of the car a stark contrast to the cold still clinging to my skin. The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror, waiting for an address.
I swallow hard before muttering my address.
The words feel strange in my mouth, too normal for what’s just happened. Too normal for the way my world has been tilted on its axis.
The driver nods and pulls back into traffic, and I finally let myself sink into the seat. The city blurs past the window, neon signs and headlights smearing together, but I don’t see any of it.
All I see isher.
The way she looked at me when she said my name. The way she reached for me like she thought, like she hoped, I’d let her.
I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my fingers to my temples. I can’t think about this. I can’t think about her.
By the time the cab slows in front of my building, my exhaustion has settled into something deeper. Something heavy in my chest, pressing down on me like I might collapse under the weight of it.
I pay the driver and step out onto the sidewalk, barely noticing the chill anymore. My hands feel numb as I fumble for my keys, my body moving on autopilot until I’m inside, the door shut behind me.
