Chapter 50
Victoria
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and my bare feet hit the cold floor, making a chill run up my spine.
Socks would be nice right now. Where did they go? I could have sworn I fell asleep in them . . .
As I start to search the bed, a knock sounds against the wooden door.
It’s not him.
That much I know for sure.
The knock is too soft. It’s almost polite. Probably a staff member, most likely female.
My suspicions are proven correct as I cross the room, pull the door open, and see Marta, one of the maids, staring at me.
Her gaze flicks over my face, searching, then she offers a slight nod toward the hallway.
“You’re needed downstairs.” Her fingers twist the edge of her apron.
My throat tightens. “Needed by who?” It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who is beckoning me, but I still ask.
Marta’s lips transform into a straight line, and her eyes dart left toward the staircase.
“By . . . him,” she breathes, and her words hang heavy in the air.
“I’ll be right down. I need to freshen up.”
She bows her head in understanding before stepping back.
With that done, I head into the bathroom and go about making myself presentable. Using the toilet and then brushing my teeth. After I’m decent, I step out into the hallway and head to where he is.
For some reason, the staircase feels longer today, and don’t even get me started on the stairs.
Time seems to stand still as I move, and my heart beats so fast, I fear it might explode.
Once downstairs, the foyer is dim, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust, but then I see him.
Lorenzo stands by the front doors. Ominous as always, but he’s not alone. His dumb friend Rafe is with him.
Rafe stands with his shoulder against the wall, eyes tracking everything with a bored look. Typical.
On the other side of the foyer is Nico. He’s probably the only guard who’s done anything remotely nice for me. So at least his presence doesn’t piss me off even more.
Lorenzo’s gaze snaps to mine the second I step off the last stair. It’s like his body is wired to my existence.
His eyes drag down my body, starting at my feet, then up my sweatpants, until they lift back to my face.
“You look comfy.” He adjusts his cuff, like we’re discussing the weather.
I stop at the edge of the foyer, letting my spine go straight. “I look like I just woke up, which I did.”
Rafe’s mouth twitches. He wants to smile so badly, but probably doesn’t because his friend might kill him. Nico’s expression stays neutral, but his gaze flicks to Lorenzo.
Lorenzo takes a step closer, and the space between us shrinks in a way that makes my pulse climb my throat.
“You’re adorable,” he deadpans.
“Call me adorable again,” I snap, folding my arms tight over my chest, “and I’ll bite you.”
Lorenzo’s mouth curves, slow and sharp. “Promises before breakfast. I’m blessed.”
I force myself to breathe. “Why are all the guards here? Planning on killing someone?”
Lorenzo glances toward Nico without turning his head fully. “Because I’m taking you somewhere.”
I freeze so hard my ribs ache.
Somewhere.
“Like outside?”
Lorenzo nods, not giving anything up until he’s ready to, or at least until I ask the right question.
“Where?”
Lorenzo’s gaze holds mine. It’s steady and unblinking. “Your parents’.”
My brain actually stutters. Like short-circuits completely.
Did he just say he’s taking me to my parents’ house?
My mouth opens, and nothing comes out.
Rafe shifts, clearing his throat, probably reminding me that I’m standing in the foyer with my mouth open.
I swallow hard. “Why?”
Lorenzo’s shoulders lift in a lazy shrug that doesn’t match the sharpness in his eyes. “Because you’ve been throwing a tantrum, and it’s getting annoying.”
My fingers curl into a fist. “So this is, what? A treat? You’re taking me for a walk like a dog?”
“Of course not . . .” His mouth parts into a smirk. “Dogs are loyal.”
I flinch without meaning to, and Lorenzo, the fucker, watches the flinch and loves it.
Then he steps back, as if granting me air is a privilege. “Get dressed. Something more suitable for the public, but also something you can run in if you decide to be stupid.”
My jaw tightens. “Are you threatening me or giving fashion advice?”
His mouth kicks up. “Both.”
Rafe laughs but tries unsuccessfully to cover it up with a cough.
I glance at Nico because my brain wants an ally, even when it knows better. “And him?”
Lorenzo follows my look, voice turning colder. “Nico escorts you. You don’t leave his sight. You don’t talk about where you’ve been. You don’t say my name at all.”
My teeth grind together. “As if I’d ever willingly talk about you.”
Lorenzo’s eyes gleam. “If you behave, maybe this won’t be your last excursion.”
I stare at him for another beat, then spin on my heel and head back up the stairs before I do something that ends with me bleeding on marble.
In my room, I dress fast in jeans, boots, and a sweater. I drag my hair into a knot and stare at my reflection. Not bad.
A knock comes again, and like before, it’s soft.
Not Lorenzo . . . thank God.
I open the door to find Marta holding my coat. Her fingers are trembling as she offers it to me.
“You’re going out?” she whispers.
I take the coat and pull it on slowly. “Apparently, I’ve been granted a day pass from jail.”
Marta’s lips part, then close again. She wants to say something.
“Don’t. It’s fine.” I give her a small smile before I walk past her into the hallway.
Once downstairs, the air feels colder and heavier. Lorenzo stands by the door.
His gaze drifts over me, then stops on my face with something like satisfaction.
Why? No clue. But something tells me he’s going to tell me.
“Good,” he drawls, opening the door. “You listened.”
“As if I had a choice,” I snap, stepping past him into the winter bite. Outside, Nico stands by the car.
“Ready?” Nico asks Lorenzo.
“I’m ready,” I say as if I have a say.
No one here listens to anyone other than Lorenzo.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Nico says under his breath as I walk past him. He follows me and opens the door. “Get in the car, Victoria.”
He uses my name like he’s warning me, and right now, I don’t want to know why.
I slide into the back seat, and Nico takes the seat beside me. The driver pulls out, and when the estate gates open, we are gone.
Neither of us speaks as we drive off. Soon, the mansion disappears behind us, and the road curves through trees dusted with old snow. I stare out the window and pretend my chest doesn’t hurt.
“You’re quiet,” Nico says as he checks his watch.
I don’t look at him. “I’m practicing for the rest of my life.”
He snorts, then smothers it into a cough-like laughter. “Don’t do anything reckless.”
I turn my head slowly, letting my eyes meet his. “Define reckless.”
Nico’s stare goes flat. “Running.”
“I haven’t run from anything in years.” I regret the honesty instantly, but at least Lorenzo isn’t here to hear it.
“Just . . . don’t speak.” Nico responds.
Thirty minutes later, the Danforth estate is before us. The gates open before we even stop.
My stomach twists. Because that means they’re expecting me, and I don’t know how I feel about it. A month has passed since I’ve seen them last, and from what I can tell, neither has tried to contact me . . . so do I even want to be here?
The SUV rolls up the drive. My mother is already on the steps, wrapped in an expensive-looking, useless coat. Her hair is pulled back too tightly, and she looks frail. My father stands behind her, hands clasped, jaw rigid.
Now, he’s trying to look like a man in control.
Spoiler alert, Dad: You’re not.
The car stops, and my door is opened. Cold air hits my lungs, but I welcome it anyway because it’s real. Like freedom, even if it’s short-lived.
My mother takes a step forward but doesn’t approach.
Gee, thanks, Mom. Missed you too. “Victoria.”
My father steps closer, gaze flicking past me, landing straight on Nico. His nostrils flare.
“Who is that?” my father bites out, voice low.
Nico remains two steps behind me, posture neutral, eyes scanning him before looking around the property. He doesn’t speak.
Smart man. I answer for him, keeping my tone light because that’s the only way this will work. My mother will be too dramatic if I tell her the truth. “Security.”
My father’s mouth tightens. “Security for what?”
I tilt my head, letting my smile sharpen. “For me.”
My mother gestures to the door. “Come inside, I’m cold.” Some things never change. She’s still the most selfish person I’ve ever met. “You look . . .” She narrows her eyes, trying to find the word she wants to use. It’s usually an insult, so I help her with it.
“Tired?” I walk past her toward the doors. “That’s just my face now. It’s a trend.”
She rolls her eyes. She’s never found me funny. I guess almost losing everything and selling your daughter to a mafia man didn’t help her get a sense of humor.
Fine by me. I have no intention of ending this line of jokes. She deserves to know I’m miserable. She did sell me like cattle, after all.
Once inside the house, we move into the front sitting room. Nico stays by the doorway.
My father notices immediately. “Does he have to stand there?” he snaps, gesturing toward Nico.
Nico’s eyes slide to my father, expression calm in a way that makes my spine prickle.
I beat him to it. “Yes.”
My mother flinches. “Victoria—”
I lift a hand, cutting her off without raising my voice. “Let’s not pretend we get to make rules today.”
Silence drops hard.
My father’s jaw clenches like he’s chewing glass, and my mother’s hands flutter at her chest.
Then she tries again, softer. “What brings you here today?”
I look at her. Really look. Her makeup is done, but her eyes are swollen. Her lips are pale beneath the lipstick, and her hands shake when she reaches for the tea service.
Guilt?
Or sadness.
Most likely neither. Never can tell with this woman, but what I can tell is she isn’t happy, and I’m certain it has nothing to do with me.