Chapter 50 Allegra
ALLEGRA
Crouching in front of Luca, I help him put on his shoes. Time and stubborn determination have ensured that my legs have recovered their mobility. I'm almost as flexible as I was pre-coma, and it makes me all the happier when I can put my newly found physical freedom to use with Luca.
I'd taken maximum advantage of the times I could sneak in and meet him, and for weeks now, both Luca and his governess have thawed a little towards me.
I guess I'm lucky that Chiara is mostly away and Enzo is so busy with whatever he's doing or whoever he's fucking that he isn't at home during the day.
"Do you like the shoes?" I ask him after I finish tying his laces. He peers down at the navy-blue sneakers, wiggling his toes inside them. A slow movement of his head shows his approval, and a smile spreads across my face.
The first pair of shoes I bought him.
The first of many.
I've tried not to go overboard with my displays of affection or gifts because I hadn't wanted to confuse him—one minute he's got a careless, almost nonexistent mother and the next he has an obsessive one.
It's been hard to temper myself when all I want is to take him with me, away from all these people.
But I can't. Not yet, anyway.
"They feel nice," he comments as he jumps off the bench, walking a few steps before taking off in a sprint toward the back of the house.
"Hey, wait for me," I call out, amused. I start running too, slowly at first, gaining speed as my legs get used to the motion.
He giggles, a sound that's like a balm to my heart, running in circles around a tree.
"You can't catch me, mamma," he says, looking behind him, his hair flying in the wind, a carefree smile on his face.
"Watch me," I feign indignation as I change direction, rushing toward him from behind. He sees me, and laughing loudly, he manages to avoid my ticklish hands.
He's sneaky, dodging me by slipping through my arms and doing a U-turn to push me to the ground—the tickled becoming the tickler.
"Luca," I whimper, giggling as he tries to torture me with his little hands.
"That's it, baby boy. You're mine now," I tell him, my voice menacingly amusing. Catching his hands in mine, I bring him to my chest, kissing his little forehead. "Did I tell you I love you today?"
"Uhm, twice," he says bashfully.
"One more time, then. I looooove you," I profess in a singsong voice, prompting him to giggle some more.
"What the fuck is this?" I look up and am met by Enzo's stern features as he takes in the scene before him.
"Luca, go to your room," his voice booms, and Luca flinches, burrowing a little closer in my arms.
"You shouldn't speak like that to him," I find my voice, even though inside I'm terrified of what's going to happen.
I'd been so happy to be near Luca that I hadn't thought everything through. Like what would happen if Enzo caught me.
"So now I'm taking lessons from you on how to raise my child?" His voice is filled with anger and disgust, and I can't help but shiver from the venom sent my way, even though I know I'm not technically the designated recipient.
"Luca," I stroke his hair, dropping my voice so only he can hear me, "do what your father says.
We'll play later," I assure him. His mossy green eyes turn toward me, looking at me almost questioningly, uncertainty written in the way his brow moves up and down.
My heart breaks at the thought of betraying the fragile trust we'd built over the last few weeks.
"It's okay," I assure him again, and with a nod, he gets up. He stops briefly in front of his father and they exchange a few words before Luca runs toward the house.
"And you..." he shakes his head at me, his nose turned up in distaste. "I never thought you'd stoop so low."
Grabbing my wrist, he forces me to my feet, dragging me toward the house.
"Where are you taking me?"
"We need to have a discussion, you and I, and I don't want anyone to witness what it might degenerate into," he says, his mouth twisted in a cruel smile. His fingers are digging into my skin, his hold carelessly painful.
"Let go," I shake my hand, trying to get him to release me. "You're hurting me," I whine in an attempt to emulate Chiara.
I can't forget that he thinks I'm my sister.
"And I'll do much worse," he says, and we pass the entrance as he takes me to his office, locking both of us inside.
Shit! I need to do something about this.
A small bubble of panic erupts inside me as I think of any way to get out of this. I can't have him find out about me, not when I've worked so hard until now to craft my plans carefully.
I've been foolish, I know I have, my greedy heart unable to stay away from Luca. And so I'd risked everything—including my revenge.
But because he is the reason for everything I'm doing, I can't give it up. Soon, he'll be mine—just mine—and we'll go far away from this godforsaken place.
When we get inside, Enzo shoves me to the ground, and I barely manage to cushion my fall.
"What's wrong with you?" I ask, amazed at this display of cruelty. My eyes take him in, so dashing but so dangerous. The tic in his jaw tells me he's one second away from blowing up.
"What's wrong with me?" His voice sounds incredulous. "I thought I told you once that if I ever see you near Luca again, I'm going to blow your fucking brains out, didn't I?" He doesn't waste any time unholstering his gun and shoving it between my eyes.
I'm frozen to the spot, terrified that one wrong move will lead to my premature demise.
"I was just helping him. I thought he'd fallen, and I was afraid you'd get angry if something happened to him while I was at home," I lie, inventing the excuse and hoping he'll buy it.
"You? Helping him?" He scoffs at me, the gun digging even deeper into my skin. Self-preservation kicking in, I try not to focus on the steel barrel currently nestled between my eyes. Instead, I look him straight in the eyes, improvising.
Think… Act like Chiara would.
"I can be human too," I trail off, "sometimes," I add for good measure. "He's still my blood, isn't he? And the future of this family."
Yes, that's it. Mercenary… My sister is completely mercenary.
"Is that so?" He's still unconvinced as he stares at me, his eyes hard and unyielding.
"What do I stand to gain if something happens to him?" I quip, hoping I'm right and that Chiara would never do anything to Luca.
"Indeed." His hand relaxes a little on his gun, but his eyes are still skeptical.
Putting on yet another show, I lift my hands, reaching for his belt.
"I can suck you off if you let me go," I drawl in a seductive tone. His features draw up in disgust, and he quickly puts distance between us.
"Fuck off," he curses. "Don't tell me you've run out of dick."
I breathe out, relieved the gun is no longer in my face. The fact that he's so clearly repulsed by my sister somehow makes my stomach do a somersault, an unwelcome pleasure filling me.
No! I can't let myself warm up to him!
"If that's all," I shrug, righting my shirt over my jeans and making to leave.
"No," he calls out, already settled in his study. "One more thing," he starts, his eyes scanning me from top to bottom. "Make sure your parents are coming to the ball. Our family needs to be united in times like these, no?" he asks sardonically, and I just raise an eyebrow at him.
"Whatever you desire, your highness," I automatically respond, feigning a curtsy. Exiting the room, I all but run outside, the need to be as far away from him as possible burning inside me.
Why?
Why am I still so weak when it comes to him? You'd think that with all the evidence I have of his betrayal—photographic evidence at that—I'd be a little more steady in my disdain for him.
There's a fine line between love and hate.
And I'm still teetering on that razor-thin boundary between them, unable to firmly commit to either side.
Am I really bound to be a pathetic bitch my entire life? Just because he was the first hand to feed me, do I have to keep running back for more even when he hits where it hurts the most?
I wish there were an answer to this. A way to simply turn off the love so I could focus only on the hate.
"Hurry," I say as I pry the jeans off my legs to put on my pajamas. Lia is holding the blouse over my head, and I quickly slide my hands through it as she pulls it down.
"He didn't tell me he was going to come today." A frown of consternation appears on her face as she helps me into bed, hooking my finger to the machine and arranging things around me so that everything is flawless.
Enzo usually calls ahead to inform Lia when to expect him, but this time we had to hear it from Fred, one of Lia's friends from security, who just gave her a heads-up.
"Doesn't matter, we're fine," I say quickly, knowing he's going to come any second. "Just calm down, Lia," I say, and a moment later the door opens.
I promptly squeeze my eyes shut, willing my body to relax. The beeping from my pulse monitor isn't helping as I hear Enzo step inside.
"You didn't call, signore," Lia starts, sounding a little agitated.
Damn it, Lia! Act natural!
"I have a flight tomorrow, and I wanted to see her before I left." His deep voice resounds in the room. Deprived of my sight, I can only rely on my hearing, and I hone in on the cadence of his tone. "Any change?" he asks as he pulls a chair next to me, his hand brushing mine.
"Same as always," Lia says.
"Leave us," he decrees, leaving no room for discussion. There's some shifting in the room before I hear the door close.