Marcello DeLuca by Shani Greene-Dowdell & S.G. Dowdell

Marcello DeLuca by Shani Greene-Dowdell & S.G. Dowdell

Author:Shani Greene-Dowdell & S.G. Dowdell [Greene-Dowdell, Shani & Dowdell, S.G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Imperial Publishing House
Published: 2024-06-25T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Eight

Safia

The Unthinkable

“Talk to me, Safia.”

Hearing my real name come so effortlessly from his mouth made me feel I could finally be seen by him for who I truly was. However, recalling the reason everyone knew me as Lanay Sanders and not Safia Kent threatened to bury me with grief.

My breaths began to come in thunderous waves.

“It’s so much. And it’s so painful to talk about.”

The sincere look on Marcello’s face made my heart ache. “You can tell me anything. I will never judge you. And you can always trust me. That you can believe,” he assured.

I sat up further in the bed, clutching the blanket to my chest. My hands trembled. A wave of nausea washed over me. My composure threatened to break. The air seemed to thicken, making it hard to breathe. It felt like the enormity of his bedroom had become small and was closing in on itself.

Sensing my unease, Marcello placed a warm and steady hand on mine. “Breathe, Safia. Breathe. Take your time. I’m here for you,” he urged gently, his voice a soothing balm against the rising panic within me.

But I couldn’t take my time. I couldn’t wait.

If I paused, even for a moment, I might never find the courage to continue. “I have to tell you everything now, before I lose the nerve,” I insisted, my words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “What I’m about to say is why my uncle is so protective of me. You have to promise me, Marcello, that you won’t tell a soul.”

“I won’t say anything,” he agreed.

“No! This is serious and my very life depends on it. So, you have to promise me,” I pled desperately.

His eyes widened with concern, and he nodded. “You have my word. If you want what you confide in me to stay between us, it will be between us,” he promised, his voice firm and reassuring.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. “So, like I said my name isn’t Lanay Sanders. It’s Safia Kent,” I began, watching as the reality of my words sank in. “And for the past three years, my uncle and I have been in protective custody.”

Marcello’s dark, thick brow furrowed in confusion. “Protective custody? Why are you in protective custody?”

A shiver ran through me as I remembered that awful day, the explosion that had shattered my world. “My family was killed in a car bombing,” I said, each word feeling like a dagger drawn from an old wound. “Someone blew up our car, killing my parents and my sister. The police felt I could be the next target, so they moved me from Alabama to Georgia to keep me safe. My uncle didn’t want me to be placed into protective custody alone, so he joined me here.”

Marcello’s face went pale, and I saw the muscles in his jaw clench. “Someone killed your family?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. The veins on his temple throbbed, his usual calm shattered by rage and disbelief.



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