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And I gave him my virginity.
Oh, God, how could I have done that?
Cradling my face in my hands, sobs rack my body. My heart lays shattered, and I don’t know if it can ever be pieced back together.
When I get back to the house, I rush through the front door, tears streaming down my face. I just want to get into my room so I can cry in peace.
Unfortunately for me, I nearly collide with Nat who is walking down the hall, looking at her phone.
“Jesus, Alexis, be careful!” Nat yelps, snatching her phone before it falls to the ground. She takes a closer look at me, brow furrowing when she notices my distraught expression. “Where’s Damian? What happened?”
Those questions are my undoing. Sobs rack my body, and I bury my face in my hands, shoulders heaving.
Nat looks around before dragging me into another room and guiding me to a chair.
“Sit,” she demands, sitting next to me. “Tell me what happened.”
Between gasps, I recount the disastrous date—how Damian and I were having a great time, how Scarlett showed up, how she almost stabbed me, and then how Damian didn’t defend me and dismissed me.
Nat scowls when I mention Scarlett’s name. “That fucking bitch,” she seethes, her face turning red with anger.
“Who is she?” I choke out. “She and Damian have a history—she did a great job making that very clear by telling me every sordid detail.”
“Scarlett Rafa,” Nat explains, “is Damian’s ex-fiancée.”
I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. Fiancée? Damian never mentioned being that serious with someone before. But then again, why would he? I clearly mean nothing to Damian—just another passing fling he didn’t need to share details about his past with.
This revelation stings deeply. Damian has so many secrets, so many layers I know nothing about. I am just a bit player in his life, easily dismissed when his ex shows up out of the blue. Fresh tears spring to my eyes as the stark reality sinks in.
“Scarlett is Mario Rafa’s daughter,” Nat continues, oblivious to my internal pain. “She’s a fucking crazy bitch, Alexis. I’m sure Damian was just trying to protect you from her by trying to seem disinterested. The last thing we need is for her to figure out who you actually are and tell her father. Or come here herself and get you.”
I shudder at the thought. I haven’t even considered the potential danger if Scarlett realized I wasn’t really “Maria”, cousin to the Iacopellis. No wonder he pushed me away so abruptly.
But the sting of his deception still burns. He could have simply told me the truth instead of hurting me like this. Doesn’t he trust me at all? Haven’t I proved over the last few months that I’m loyal, that I wouldn’t do anything to harm him?
Another wave of tears threaten me as I realize how insignificant I must be to Damian—easily brushed aside without a second thought when faced with his ex’s reappearance.
“Rafa,” I repeat, tasting the word on my tongue. Why does that last name sound so familiar? A faint sense of deja vu tingles at the back of my mind. Where have I heard that name before? Perhaps on the news? No, that doesn’t feel quite right.
Frustration simmers within me as I rack my brain, trying to grasp the elusive memory. It dances just out of my reach. The more I try to recall, the more it slips away, leaving me feeling agitated and unsettled.
“How did they break up?” I whisper, sniffling.
Nat frowns, her face darkening. “She wanted Damian to shoot up a playground because she was pissed that some guy flipped her off on the road.” She locks her gaze on mine. “Damian said no, so she broke up with him and then had the driver’s son killed. She’s fucked up.”
I freeze, horrified. She asked him to commit an unspeakable crime. She should be blacklisted. But instead, Damian rejected me.
“Damian’s over Scarlett,” Nat explains. “You don’t have to worry about that. She’s literally psychotic.”
I’m not sure I believe her. My heart aches with jealousy over Scarlett’s connection to Damian. The rejection dredges up all the insecurity from my past—the Carters who hated me, Mark who never loved me. I really thought Damian was different.
Nat pats my shoulder, her matter-of-fact demeanor unable to recognize or soothe my churning emotional turmoil. “Don’t worry, I’ll kick his ass for this,” she says before getting up and leaving.
I wish Nat could have done more to comfort me instead. But I recognize that my relationship with Nat is surface level at best. We aren’t truly friends. She’s Damian’s sister. Her loyalty lies to him and the Family.
Nat’s brusque reaction highlights how alone I really am. The Iacopelli crime Family is Nat’s entire life, same as Damian’s. They are able to compartmentalize emotions in a way I could never fathom.
My hurt and heartbreak burn raw, with no one to confide in or find solace with.
