Chapter 16 Allegra
ALLEGRA
The following morning, I'm told my mother-in-law is waiting for me to have breakfast. A little scared, but mostly determined not to let her walk all over me, I head to the dining room.
Lucia Agosti is sitting at one end of the table, a cup of coffee in her hand.
When she hears me step inside, she raises her eyes, and a purely malicious smile spreads across her face.
There are a couple of servants in the room, and because of their presence, that malevolence seems to be contained to a forced greeting and a fake laugh as she asks me how I slept.
I take a seat as far away from her as possible, and I try to remain calm.
"Good," I start, and looking up, I see her staring expectantly at me. "I didn't know Enzo would be so…" I pause when I see her eyes narrow at me, "…demanding. Not in his parents' house."
I bring the glass of orange juice to my lips, watching from beneath my lashes as her hands clench in anger. I guess this hit her right where I wanted it to.
If she'd been so concerned about me being pregnant before, then she should continue to stew, thinking I could get pregnant at any point.
I don't know what her deal is, aside from the fact that she clearly favored Gianna Guerra as her daughter-in-law, but that doesn't mean I will let her terrorize me.
Her eyes pin me with the intensity of her hate, and she opens her mouth, about to say something, when a server brings over another dish.
I ignore her as I stuff my plate with food and continue to eat in silence.
Just as I'm about to help myself to a second serving, Lucia speaks.
"Ana, please take Allegra's plate. I think she's had enough for today." I stare in awe as the woman takes away my plate, a small frown on her face as she sees my expression. But Lucia is all too happy to see me squirm, so I quickly school my features.
"Yes, thank you, Ana. I must have been ravenous after all that exercise last night," I say, and Lucia's triumphant smile morphs into one of anger, so much so that she stands up from her chair and plops herself in front of me.
"I don't know where Enzo found you or how he can even stand to look at you," she scrunches her nose in disgust as she looks me up and down. I meet her gaze quietly, waiting for the other insults she has probably stashed away.
"But you don't fool me. You're just a greedy little slut trying to take advantage of my son. You're not the first or the last who's tried to take him from me, and you won't succeed. Mark my words," she lowers her head toward me, "you little whore, you won't survive long in this house."
"Is that a threat, Signora Agosti?"
And I thought my parents were awful. What is wrong with this woman?
"No," she smirks, crossing her arms in front of her chest and looking down at me as if I'm beneath her. "It's a promise."
She moves to leave, but I can't let her have the last word, so I say the only thing I can think of.
"You sure care a lot about your son, Signora Agosti. I wonder if you're not just jealous of me…" I trail off suggestively, and her shocked expression tells me I hit the mark. She's quick as she moves in front of me, arm raised, slap ready to go.
But I'm also prepared.
I catch her wrist, my fingers wrapping around it in a painful hold.
"I think you chose the wrong target for your abuse, Signora Agosti. I will neither stay quiet nor tolerate this type of behavior."
"And what can you do? Tell on me?" she laughs, slowly trying to pull her hand from my grip.
"No. I couldn't care less about what your son thinks. But I can defend myself too, and if you start a war, don't come crying when it's too much." I push her aside and go back to my room.
I'm sweating, the mental toll of the confrontation making me gasp for air.
Hell! I'm in hell.
I take a deep breath and go to my luggage. Taking out a few of my belongings, I find my diary ensconced at the bottom. There's a certain type of catharsis to be found in laying down your most intimate thoughts and fears, and my diary is my most trusted confidante, who's been with me for years.
I start jotting down my thoughts, but also plans of attack, because Lucia is wrong if she thinks she can bully me.
I may be in a foreign land and among strange people, but I won't give up.
Two days pass, both riddled with hostile remarks and thick tension around the house. Neither Rocco nor Enzo is around, so Lucia continues to openly spite me every chance she gets.
For the most part, I try to stay in my room to avoid any confrontation, but the more time goes by, the more I realize I can't hide forever. Nor can I just exist within these four walls with nothing to do.
As I decide my next course of action, a member of the staff notifies me that there will be a banquet tonight.
To officially announce the marriage and save face in front of the other families and important guests, Rocco has decided to throw an all-out fete to present Enzo's marriage to the poor Marchesi girl as a success—an intentional decision and not one borne out of necessity.
My presence being mandatory, there's nothing else to be done but await a further humiliation. I can already hear the echoes of laughter and the gazes of pity—isn't that all I've ever received so far?
Sometime in the afternoon, Ana comes by, bringing me a dress for the evening.
"Signor Enzo instructed me to give you this."
I take the box from her hands and lay it on the bed. Inside is a bright red dress that glitters in the light.
My mouth opens in shock as I look at the most beautiful gown I’ve ever seen. I don't waste any time shedding my clothes to try it on. I go to the mirror and take in the beautiful color and cut. It's simply exquisite.
The cleavage area is a little too exposed for my liking, but the dress molds to my body, giving me some shape.
I look like a woman.
I'm amazed by this simple transformation. The dress is mid-thigh length, and while I've never worn anything so short before, I know it is the fashion in big cities.
There's a pair of shoes, too, but they are a tad too big.
Not wanting to seem ungrateful or whiny, I go to the bathroom and search for some gauze to stuff into the front of the shoes so they won't slip off my feet.
Maybe it’s because I'm feeling more beautiful than I've ever felt before, but I'm suddenly giddy, and I can't wait for Enzo to see me in this. It is his present, after all.
A couple more hours pass, and I start seeing cars pull into the driveway from the window in my room.
I'm a little uncertain because more and more people are arriving, but no one's told me to come down yet.
When I'm finally at the end of my patience, Ana appears once more and invites me downstairs.
I will myself to walk straight, the shoes incredibly uncomfortable even with the stuffed material. We reach the bottom of the stairs, and she shows me toward the ballroom.
A little disappointed that Enzo didn't come to get me himself, I push my chin up and step inside.
It takes me less than a second to realize everyone is staring at me—and why. All the women and girls are wearing ankle-length dresses in muted tones, with a few daring convention by wearing black. No one is showing any skin.
I catch Enzo's eye from across the room, and he's scowling at me. Just a few strides and he's in front of me, taking me by the arm.
"What the fuck are you wearing? Have you gone mad?" he roars in my ear, his voice for my ears only.
"But…" I'm about to tell him that it's his fault, that he was the one who gave me the dress. But as my eyes move around the room, I meet the satisfied smile of Lucia, and I realize I've been played.
All the humiliation I envisioned is already happening, and Lucia is gloating on the sidelines.
I should have questioned the package.
I'd been so enthralled with the dress—my first of its kind—that I hadn't stopped for a second to think it might be a trap.
And now, as everyone stares at me accusatorily, I try not to slump my shoulders in defeat or lower my head in shame.
"I like the dress," I tell Enzo with confidence. If I can't escape their scrutiny, I might as well wear my shame with pride. "It's a beautiful color."
"It also makes you look like a tramp. God, Allegra, where the hell did you get this?" His words are clipped, his eyes focused on my cleavage. "Go change. I won't have you walking around like this." His fingers bite into my arms, but I push him off, plastering a nonexistent smile on my face.
"I'm already wearing it. And not everyone seems to dislike it." I raise an eyebrow at him, nodding toward the men looking at my body appreciatively.
"Yes, but only because they're wondering how easy it would be to get you to spread your legs." His fists are clenched at his sides, but I ignore him, wading further into the crowd and planting myself in front of my mother-in-law.
"Thank you for the dress, Lucia. I truly feel like the guest of honor today," I say sweetly, and for a second, her mask drops.
"Whatever do you mean, Allegra?" she starts, laughing, and the women next to her are all looking on curiously.
"She must have told you to dress in pastels, right? She didn't want to steal my shine. I am, after all, the bride." I give them all a dazzling smile before excusing myself and walking back to find Enzo.
Even though I'd managed to have the last word in that particular confrontation, the evening was far from over.
As I pass a group of girls my age, I can't help but overhear their conversation.
"So kitschy. I wonder where she got that from—Goodwill?"
"Maybe from the last decade," another one comments, and they all laugh.
Taking a deep breath, I decide it's not worth my time or effort. I'm almost back at the double doors when I spot Enzo. He's deep in conversation with someone. I take a step forward, but I'm shocked when the woman by his side turns a little and I see the face of an angel.