A Promise Sealed with a Bullet

But regret doesn't wash away sin. And in the hell he’d made for me, sincerity was the most dangerous lie of all.

"I'll pray for your new bride," I told Alessio, my voice heavy with exhaustion.

"But from now on, don't contact me again."

I ended the call, destroying another of his encrypted numbers. I sat alone in the empty gallery as the air grew thick, suffocating me, dragging me three years into the past.

Three years ago, Alessio had sent me an encrypted message: *Cindy, what if I told you I’m going to announce our relationship to everyone at the family banquet?*

*Wanna be my girl?*

I had just left the art supply store. The message sent a dizzying flush to my cheeks, and my heart hammered against my ribs. I was walking on air. But on the day of the banquet, after spending the entire afternoon getting ready, I heard nothing from him.

Convinced he was planning a surprise, my stomach fluttered with anticipation as I asked one of his friends for his location.

Alessio had booked the entire hall of a private casino for the announcement. My heart hammered against my ribs. With my cheeks burning, I slipped into the casino, only to see another girl standing in the center of the crowd. Her eyes were red from crying as she pointed a trembling finger at me.

"That's her."

"That's the whore. The spy."

The words hit me like a physical blow. The blood froze in my veins. I watched as the crowd jeered, demanding Alessio deal with me.

Alessio's arm went around the girl's waist, his expression glacial. He was about to pronounce my sentence. Like a madwoman, I lunged between them, slapped the girl across the face, and demanded, "Who are you! Why are you framing me!"

I thought I was his girlfriend. The woman he'd held, kissed, and been intimate with. I thought I was his one and only.

But the girl just looked at Alessio and sobbed.

Alessio's hand cracked across my face. He snarled.

"Kneel!"

"Cindy! Don't make me say it again!"

"On your knees. Admit you're wrong. Now!"

I stared at him, terrified and disbelieving, as the girl cried harder. She didn't have to say another word. Alessio sneered, grabbed a fistful of my carefully styled hair, and his foot connected with the back of my knees. I buckled, crashing to the floor.

"Apologize!"

Alessio hauled me up by my hair, stomped on my calf, and viciously slammed my head against the floor.

Ringing in my ears. Laughter. The girl's sobs, and Alessio's voice: "Who the hell do you think you are, daring to touch my girl!"

"Cindy, did you really think you were something to me?"

"It was a game, Cindy. Why'd you take it so seriously?"

My world spun. My carefully applied makeup was a wreck, my face smeared into the mask of a tragic clown. I was a complete joke. Yet I still clung to the last shred of my love for him, choking out through my tears, "Why?"

"Alessio Moretti."

"Why?"

I cried, grabbing his leg, refusing to let him go.

"Didn't you say you were going to announce our relationship?"

"Didn't you say you wanted me to be your woman?"

"Why did it have to be like this?"

"Alessio."

"Why."

I woke from the nightmare to see the clock reading 5:30 a.m. I took my medication from the cabinet and was about to make coffee when the doorbell rang.

A frantic hammering. Like a demon clawing at the gates of hell, its malevolent hand reaching through the door for me. The moment I opened it, I saw them.

Several women stood at the entrance to my gallery.

The woman front and center, her makeup flawless, was the same one from the invitation. I recognized her instantly.

Alessio's fiancée. Isabella Rossi.

Isabella crossed her arms, her chin tilted high.

"So you're the famous Cindy Vance?"