Chapter 3

I forced myself to keep moving until the lights of the main building finally came into view.

Dario and Vivian were sitting close together on a sofa in the lounge. Marco was pouring drinks for the men at the card table.

“Dario, are you sure Elena's okay?” Vivian asked.

Enzo laughed.

“You heard the Don. Don't worry about commercials. They pop up on their own.”

Everyone laughed. Dario didn't disagree.

I stood outside the door, the pain in my leg giving way to numbness.

They all looked up when I opened it.

I was covered in mud, with blood smeared over half my face.

Vivian shrieked.

“Oh my God! Elena, what happened to you?”

“We didn't see you when we got out. Dario said you couldn't take the cold and must have gone back to your room. You didn't?”

Enzo looked me up and down and whistled.

“That's pretty convincing. You even got the blood right.”

I ignored him. All I could see was the warm milk in Vivian's hands. While I'd been freezing out there, Dario had been making her something hot to drink.

Vivian noticed me staring, got up, and came over with the cup.

“Don't be mad. We really didn't know you weren't behind us. Have something warm, okay?”

Dario frowned.

“If you want milk, ask for a cup. Stop staring at hers.”

Only then did he glance at my injuries.

“Where the hell have you been? Do you know we were looking for you?”

I looked at the card table and the drinks in their hands. I couldn't even summon a bitter laugh.

Whatever.

I went around them and headed for the elevator.

“Stop.”

I kept walking.

A hand seized my arm and yanked me back. I was barely steady on my feet as it was. The force sent me crashing to the floor.

Dario froze. He started to reach for me, then withdrew his hand.

“I asked you a question. Didn't you hear me?”

Vivian hurried over and crouched to help me up.

“Elena, are you all right?”

I brushed her hand aside and pushed myself up off the floor.

Dario gripped my shoulder.

“She's trying to help you. What's your problem?”

“Apologize.”

I looked up at him.

“For what?”

He gave an incredulous laugh.

“You shoved her, and you still think you're in the right?”

“You threw me to the floor. Where's your apology?”

The lounge went quiet for a moment.

They weren't used to hearing anyone speak to their Don that way.

I pulled out of his grip and limped into the elevator.

Behind me, Marco tried to smooth things over.

“Let her get some rest. Dario, we're still in the middle of a game.”

This time, he didn't follow.

Back in my room, I plugged in my phone and asked the front desk for a first-aid kit. I cleaned the wound as best I could.

When the screen came back on, the video from the pool was still in my gallery.

I watched it for a little over ten seconds, then turned the screen off.

I didn't cry. I didn't send Dario another message, either.