𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝑅𝑒𝑖𝑔𝑛

44

𝓚𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓲'𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓿:

The house was eerily quiet, as it always was when Salvatore was gone. I moved through the rooms in a rhythmic trance, my mind settling into the comfort of my usual tasks—washing dishes, straightening cushions, folding the laundry, hanging the clothes, baking something sweet for Salvatore.

It was the life I’d never imagined for myself, one that existed solely because of him. The soft hum of the vacuum and the clang of plates became the soundtrack of my days.

I wiped my hands on my apron and glanced out the window. The sun was beginning to set, casting the world in hues of gold and crimson. Normally, Salvatore would be home by now, but tonight, he’d left me alone. It was rare for him to leave me in the house, and the emptiness felt like a haunting presence in his absence. Every shadow seemed darker, every creak louder, and every moment dragged on with agonizing slowness.

As I finished tidying the living room, I placed down a framed photo of Salvatore and me, looking at it for a moment.

It was us standing close together in the sunlit flower meadow, surrounded by blooming flowers. I was playfully leaning against a tree, my delicate sundress adorned with soft pastel floral patterns fluttering gently in the breeze. I was gazing up at Salvatore with a bright, innocent smile, my eyes sparkling with joy.

Salvatore stands beside me, his massive presence a comforting contrast to my petite frame. He maintained his dominant demeanor, one hand casually tucked into his pocket while the other rests protectively on the tree trunk above my head, caging me between it and him. Though his face is partly concealed by his ski mask, his posture exudes warmth and quiet affection as he looks down at me with a subtle softness in his stance.

Our fingers lightly intertwined, and my playful nature is evident as I lightly tug at Salvatore’s sleeve, inviting him into my playful world. The background is filled with vibrant colors from the flowers, highlighting the sweetness of the moment and our unique bond.

Suddenly, a sound broke through the quiet. Multiple car engines revving and then coming to a stop just outside. My heart stopped for a second, dread prickling my skin. Salvatore always came home in one car, silent and solitary, a black sedan that would glide up the driveway. But this—this was different. There were at least three, maybe four cars.

My pulse quickened. I stood frozen, listening. The sound of car doors slamming, heavy footsteps, and murmurs followed. Panic surged through me as adrenaline coursed through my veins. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t him.

Without thinking, I bolted from the living room, my bare feet padding quietly against the wooden floor as I raced upstairs. My mind screamed at her to find safety, but where could I hide? I ran into the bedroom, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I opened the closet door. It was big, filled with his clothes and shoes, my hands shook as I pulled the door shut, crouching down behind his pants and holding my breath.

There were voices downstairs now, muffled but urgent, and the sound of footsteps as they moved through the house. Cops?

Tears welled in my eyes as the reality of the situation crashed over me. If they were here—if they were really here to take me away—what would happen to me? To Salvatore? The thought of leaving him, of being ripped from his world, sent a wave of fear coursing through me. I needed him. Despite everything, despite the twisted, suffocating love, I couldn’t imagine a life without him.

The footsteps grew louder, closer, as they moved upstairs. My entire body trembled as I pressed myself deeper into the closet, my hands covering my mouth to stifle my shaky breaths. I could hear the sound of drawers being opened and closed, voices barking orders as they searched the house.