They say the best of years is 25, Carmella Heyes would not think so. It was her birthday and she had never felt so cornered before, as though she was drowning in air, fighting – for an escape. She decided she owed herself a very special gift, but what it was remained a mystery, even to her.
That evening, she dressed in her favorite gown – it held a lot of her precious memories, and she wanted that night to be special. She walked into her birthday party with poise and a silent confidence. Devon Moretti's eyes lit up the moment he saw her walk in the room.
"Wow! You look freakishly charming tonight, love." He whispered as he pulled her close, his arms wrapped tightly around her slender waist, he couldn't help himself but bury his face in the curve of her neck, breathing her in as though he had longed for her all day.
His warm breath tickled her, making her cheeks flush pink. She gently pushed away, but he held her a little bit tighter, and pulled a little bit closer. He murmured as he slid his hands down her waist.
"Devon, we're in public," she whispered, with her voice trembling she pushed him off her – people were starting to stare.
"They can watch," he said, trying to pull her back into his arms, just when he was about succeeding her phone rang, the sound, putting an end to Devon's desires, he clicked his tongue and walked into the crowd as she picked her call.
At the other end of the phone – silence. Unease twisted in her gut as she circled the room greeting the guests gracefully. That was when she saw him, sitting alone in one edge of the room, wine in hand, stormy grey eyes, curly hair that presented his face with poise and elegance.
There was something about this man, it was as though she'd known him, he looked her dead in the eye and smiled, it was then she truly saw him and it came flashing back, she would never forget that smile. It's haunted her for years; it was the same smile he had on when he told her those cold words she'd never forget.
"I hope you meet someone who will make you feel loved and desired, just to betray you. I hope you never find peace in love and with every 'I love you' you're told, you question their truth. I hope that when love breaks you, you look back at this moment and remember – that was how you made me feel."
But she lit up like a Christmas tree when she realized it was Marco Selavanco. In that moment it didn't matter what they had said to each other, she was happy to meet her old friend, and she could tell by his eyes, he was just as pleased.
"It's so good to see you, Marco," she said, hugging him and kissing his cheek.
"Let's talk outside" he replied, as he led her out to the hallway. The uneasy feeling in her chest only kept growing.
'He couldn't even say hi, 5 years since we last met and those were his first words?' she thought to herself as they walked through the crowd. But he had always been like that, terrible with words but carried meaning into action, and his eyes – they could never tell a lie.
"Happy birthday, Carmi," he said with a majestic tone, jewelry bag, and a soft smile.
"I hear you're married now," he chipped before she could say thank you.
It took a minute before she could respond, "yes…" she finally said, "and I lost my father too," she added.
"I heard, I'm sorry…" he responded tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, an act to familiar her heart couldn't help but stop for a moment. She reached into the bag and asides the jewelry she found photos, and a flash-drive.
"What is this?" Carmella questioned, puzzled by what she had seen on Marco's phone.
"So that's it? You couldn't live with your failure and now you're back to ruin my life, my marriage?"
With no intentions of explaining himself, he stood there in silence, before saying, "my gift to you is the truth you never knew you sought, it'll all be clear if you look at the drive. Find me when you want to talk. You have my new number, happy birthday Carmi, and I'm sorry."
As he turned back taking his leave, she couldn't comprehend why he spoke like he'd done her a favor, her life was perfect, and now he wants to ruin it, disdain swelled as she watched him leave, all she could think of was confronting her husband, finding some explanation to fit, there's no way those pictures could be right about him.
She stormed the hall, seething through people, 'Devon, Devon…' his name echoed in her head as she sought to find him, but she couldn't.
She excused herself to go off to the bathroom, and as she rounded a hallway corner, she heard a burst of laughter ringing out of a private room.
"hahaha… I can imagine the look on her face when you take it all away. It's sad it'll be nothing like a man drowning in a pool of his own blood… poor Carmella."
As she heard her name, she instantly froze and drew closer to the door, which was left slightly ajar. Through the narrow gap, she saw Devon – her husband, his father - Anton, and a lady she couldn't place, but knew she worked for Anton.
She heard them talk until she couldn't listen anymore, her husband was a mafia prince and Anton the boss, with her fists clenched and her heart aching, confused and lost, she grabbed on to the handle of the door which was slightly swinging…
Her fingers trembled as she held on to the handle of the door. 'Maybe I should listen a bit more,' she thought to herself.
"You know… as mafia, killing her would be a lot easier" the old man said as he looked straight at her and quelled his eyes.