Chapter Nineteen

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Matteo

The photos in front of me were scattered all over my desk. Photos of Sofia alone, photos of us together, photos of us in my car, at my sister's wedding, in the parking lot.

So many fucking photos of not just us together, but of her alone. Walking to her apartment, driving in her car, and even some of her inside her apartment. There were hundreds of them.

Photos that were taken without her consent, photos taken by some fucking stronzo. I had gotten the file sent to me early in the morning, from someone anonymous with no return address.

I didn't understand why they were sent to me. There wasn't a threatening note or even a ransom letter. I knew it was a bad sign and knowing someone was following Sofia and taking photos made me livid with anger.

No amount of cigarettes aided in helping me calm down. I was shaking, and I felt an emotion I was no longer accustomed to, fear. I was afraid that something would happen to her, that someone would get to her.

I had doubled her security while I tried to figure out two things. Who the fuck sent the photos and who the fuck took the photos?

If I had un ratto in my circle, I had to flush him out and then I would figure out who was after my woman. It was just a loose photo album of the woman whose heart I ripped out of her chest a month ago.

One whole month. That's the last time I saw her. I told myself I didn't deserve her.

After what happened that night, after what I said and did, there was nothing I could do to ever gain back her trust. I haven't contacted her or seen her since that night. So, I stayed away.

No, you didn't.

Well, I tried, but I fucking couldn't.

I had eyes on her wherever she went and knew exactly what she was doing, where she was going, and who she was meeting up with.

She hasn't shown up to the job I got her since our fight, and she hasn't gone back to the club.

She was working as a secretary for some office management job in downtown Chicago. It didn't make the same amount of money she used to make with me, but it's not like she ever cared about the money.

She was still paying for her brother's tuition and her father's medical and his at-home nurse bills, while still paying for her rent and utilities.

She cared about you.

She didn't mind the darkness that you wore as armor around your heart.

She did, but I fucked it up. I fucked with her head and heart. I couldn't go back in time and change it, but fuck if I could. I would hold her in my arms and never let her go.

I would stay by her feet as I begged for her forgiveness. I would kiss her all over and memorize the softness of her skin and the curves of her body.

I would cling to her and tell her that I was a fool, an arrogant fool who needed her back in his life.

I was also a coward because I knew deep down she was right. I still had so much ongoing turmoil about Isabella and her passing and I needed to process it.

I needed to clear my mind and my guilty conscience of what happened to her before I could emotionally move on and be with Sofia.

I had gone to her grave this past week where I spent a few hours speaking to her and pretending she could hear me.

I stopped seeing her in my dreams, every dream I've ever had with Isabella was replaced with Sofia. It was the same reoccurring nightmare I used to have when Isabella was kidnapped.

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