Chapter 146
The moment I saw him, time seemed to stop. Vicenzo stood there, just outside the prison gates, his silhouette carved against the gray sky. My heart clenched, a mixture of relief and uncertainty flooding me. It had been so long since I’d seen him, and yet, here he was, free. Free. The word echoed in my mind like a distant bell, ringing louder with each passing second.
I didn’t even realize I had stepped out of the limousine until my feet hit the pavement. Nancy was beside me, her presence grounding, but my eyes were fixed on him. Vicenzo looked different—thinner, sharper, but still him. Still him. His hair was shorter, his jawline more pronounced, but those eyes… those dark, piercing eyes were the same. They locked onto mine, and suddenly, the world narrowed to just us.
My chest tightened, emotions swirling like a storm I couldn’t control. Happy. Scared. Relieved. Confused. All of it tangled together, leaving me breathless. I wanted to run to him, to wrap my arms around him and never let go. But I hesitated, my feet rooted to the ground as if the weight of everything—the years, the lies, the unspoken truths—was holding me back.
And then, as if he could sense my turmoil, he took a step forward. Just one step, but it was enough. My heart leapt, and before I could think, I was running. My heels clicked against the pavement, the sound echoing in my ears. I didn’t care about anything else—not the car, not the guards, not the curious onlookers. All I cared about was him.
When I reached him, I threw myself into his arms, and he caught me effortlessly, as if he’d been waiting for this moment as long as I had. His arms wrapped around me, strong and steady, and I buried my face in his chest, breathing him in. He smelled different—clean, like soap and fresh air—but beneath it was that familiar scent that had always been him. My eyes stung, tears threatening to spill, but I held them back, clinging to him as if he might disappear if I let go.
For a moment, we just stood there, holding each other in silence. The world around us faded into a blur, and all I could feel was the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against mine. It was as if nothing else mattered. Not the years we’d spent apart, not the questions that hung between us. Just this. Just us.
When we finally pulled apart, I looked up at him, searching his face for answers I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear. His expression was unreadable, his eyes dark and intense, but there was something soft there, something that made my heart ache. He reached up, his fingers brushing my cheek, and I leaned into his touch, savoring the connection.
“Rachel,” he said, his voice low and rough, as if he hadn’t used it in a long time. Hearing him say my name sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt the weight of all the things we needed to talk about pressing down on me.
“Vicenzo,” I whispered back, my voice trembling. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many questions I needed to ask, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I just stared at him, trying to memorize every detail of his face, as if I needed to convince myself that he was really here.
“We need to talk,” he said after a moment, his hand dropping from my face. “There’s… a lot that needs to be said. A lot that needs to be resolved.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Of course,” I said softly. “Where do you want to go?”
He glanced over at Nancy, who had been standing a few feet away, giving us space. “My place,” he said. “We’ll have privacy there.”
I didn’t argue. I just nodded again, my mind racing with thoughts of what he might say, what truths might come to light. But for now, I pushed them aside, focusing instead on the warmth of his hand as he led me back to the car.
The ride to his mansion was quiet, the tension thick but not uncomfortable. I sat beside him, our shoulders brushing, and I couldn’t help but steal glances at him, trying to piece together the man he’d become. He looked older, more weathered, but there was a strength in him that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe it had always been there, and I just hadn’t seen it.
When we arrived at the mansion, the butler greeted us with a warm smile. “Welcome home, Mr. Vicenzo,” he said, his voice filled with genuine relief. “Everything is as you requested.”
Vicenzo nodded, his expression softening for just a moment. “Thank you,” he said simply before turning to me. “Let’s go upstairs. We have a lot to discuss.”
I followed him up the grand staircase, my heart pounding with every step. The hallway was familiar, but it felt different now, as if the walls themselves were holding secrets. When we reached his room, he gestured for us to sit, and I did, my hands clasped tightly in my lap.
“Before we begin,” I said, breaking the silence, “let’s open a bottle of wine. To celebrate your freedom.”
He hesitated, then nodded, and I called for the butler to bring us a bottle. As we waited, my eyes wandered around the room, taking in the luxurious décor, the large bed, the soft glow of the fireplace. It was all so… him. And yet, it felt different now, as if the room had been frozen in time, waiting for his return.
When the butler returned with the wine, I poured us each a glass, the rich red liquid swirling in the crystal goblets. I handed one to Vicenzo, our fingers brushing for just a moment, and I felt that same electric spark that had always been there between us.
We clinked our glasses together, the sound ringing out in the quiet room, and as I took a sip, I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me. Whatever was about to happen, whatever truths were about to come out, we would face them together.
Vicenzo set his glass down, his expression serious once more. “I need to tell you something,” he said, his voice low and steady. “About my time in prison. About Veronica.”
My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my face calm, nodding for him to continue. This is it, I thought. This is where everything changes.
And as he began to speak, I felt the weight of our past pressing down on me, but I refused to look away. I needed to hear this. I needed to know.
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