4. Eliza
4
Eliza
It takes Urzo going to the bathroom to finally make my next attempt at an escape.
Not from the estate, but from his watchful gaze. There’s a weight beneath his eyes, and I’m tired of feeling like I’m going to fold every time he looks my way.
Now I’m just a spectacle to everyone else in this place.
I lose count of how many men move throughout the halls. Some lift their brows at me, some send a look of disgust because of who I am.
Can’t help that I’m tied to a family with a last name I’d jump at the opportunity to abandon in a heartbeat.
They hate Rocco as much as I do. He’s hardly my brother. Maybe a few years ago, I would’ve expected him to come save both Camellia and myself. The guy he is now… He’d rather marry me off to some guy instead of doing anything himself. Yeah, no thanks.
Though, can’t say this is much different from a fate than what Rocco would’ve brought me. Between marrying some dude with an eye patch, or marrying Urzo, I can’t tell which I’d want to do less.
Touring the home by my lonesome, I notice the guns on the passing members of the family. I’m less interested in acquiring one and more concerned with the possibility of one of these men retaliating against me.
One good thing about Urzo becoming my shadow, I felt oddly safe. The Bertelli family needs this marriage. Santino thinks so. Well, what if one of his grunts holds a grudge too deep and takes out the problem altogether?
Rocco can’t marry me off and join forces with another family if I’m dead. Santino knows that much. My sister is the only thing keeping me alive.
Hugging myself, I keep my face straight to avoid letting any weaknesses slip.
If any of them realize that there are a few cracks in my brave attitude, they won’t hesitate to take advantage.
A sudden hand on my arm sends that thought flying as I gasp. Hand too small to be Urzo, I jerk around with the full intention of fighting.
I’ve punched Santino Bertelli, I’ll punch anyone else.
Turns out, the one behind me is no one other than an older lady.
She’s out of breath, her brows pinched together. Despite my days of being here, it’s the first time I’ve seen her. Could she be part of the kitchen staff?
“ Finally .” She straightens up and sighs as her aged eyes take me in. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to catch you alone?”
This lady is going to be who kills me, huh? Someone must’ve known I’d never have the heart to knock out an elder. Especially not with such a gentle expression on her face. Gives me a black widow, or a praying mantis kind of vibe. Soft on the outside, dangerous on the inside.
I take a step back and bump into a stand with one hell of an expensive vase on it. Not even the rocking sound is enough to make me turn my back to her.
“Can I help you?” Straightening my shoulders, I’ve mastered the appearance of looking tough. She must not agree, because the corners of her eyes crinkle.
“Relax, dear.” Swatting her hand, she takes two steps toward me. “Just wanted to meet my future daughter, that’s all.”
Daughter?
“Bia?” I repeat her name slowly, remembering Camellia telling me about Santino’s mother and how she helped her get comfortable on the day Rocco sent her to this place.
I expected Urzo’s mother to be a little… well, bigger. Someone who could handle a big brute of a son like him. Not some frail lady who looks like all it’ll take is one gust of wind to steal her away.
As she nods, she reaches out to take my hand. She may look weak, but she squeezes my hand hard enough to knock away these fearful thoughts.
“First, Santino makes it impossible to speak with Camellia with the way he’s dragging her everywhere with him. Now, Urzo can’t leave you alone for more than five minutes.” Her thumb brushes my knuckles, and her lips curve into a smile. “How’d you get away from him?”
There’s something in her eyes, something that seems like she’s familiar with what I’ve done. Finally, the tension in my shoulders relaxes.
“Left him while he was on the toilet. By now, he must have noticed.” I roll my eyes and shake my head. “He’s probably pissed. Maybe he doesn’t care. I can’t tell with the guy.”
As she tilts her head back and laughs, I’m wondering if he’ll try to punish me again now that I’ve run.
He wouldn’t spank me in front of his mother. Even he’s got to have a line he won’t cross.
“Come, let’s go hide then. I know one place he won’t think to check,” she muses as she tugs on my hand.
Despite knowing I shouldn’t lower my guard, not with any Bertelli, I do.
Like this is some kind of sneaking mission, she checks corners, and doesn’t bat an eye when telling the grunts to mind their business.
Alright. Bia Bertelli isn’t too bad. She’s got a backbone, even if the rest of them are aged with arthritis.
She takes me to a library of all places. To think a place like this even exists is surprising in itself.
“My husband put it in only weeks after our marriage,” she explains with a look of confusion on my face. “Though, my boys never use it. This room is where I usually get lost in when I need an escape.” She inhales slowly as she takes in the multiple shelves full of books. “Lots of memories here. Are you much of a reader?”
Shaking my head, my ears burn at the thought of telling her I grew up more on watching makeup tutorials, and watching movies over reading what they originated from.
“Camellia’s huge on books. Show her this place, and Santino might threaten to take it away.” I’m joking, kind of. Still, she rolls her eyes. “After the days I’ve had, I’ll take what silence I can.”
It’s strange. With my sister, I haven’t breathed a word about how I’ve felt. Sure, I’ve tried to convince her to escape with me, but that’s all there is to it. She’s been so absorbed in her love life that I haven’t thought to list my complaints about what’s been going on in my life.
Bia takes me over to a leather couch and slowly sinks into the seat. Urging me to follow, I plop down.
The both of us, we sit here for a couple of minutes and soak in the peace. I truly relax for the first time in what feels like ages.
“When I met Leon, I didn’t like him either, you know?” I look over and notice her eyes closed as she remembers. “My mother insisted the Bertelli family would save mine from drowning in our debts. They didn’t even let me meet him before shoving me in some tight, uncomfortable dress. Things were different back then, more violent, more bloody.”
My fingers tangle against my lap, and my brows furrow together.
“My mother and father, their marriage was terrible.” She snorts as she shakes her head. “Got my attitude from her, and she swore my mouth would be my undoing. It would be my husband’s duty to straighten me out.”
“Your mother sounds like a cunt,” I mutter, unable to help myself.
Bia slaps my thigh, nodding her head as she opens her eyes once more. There’s no sadness, no anger, just a light to them. She’s amused, agreeing with me.
“Like you, my dear, my family forced me into an arrangement I wanted nothing to do with. Poor Leon, the man fell in love with me right at the altar. He loved telling me so himself. Me, on the other hand, tried to run as many times as I could. He didn’t treat me like my parents treated each other. When I ran, he was there to hunt me down. Like a game, almost.” She snorts and shakes her head. “That man… he was something.”
“Urzo, too,” I mumble, agreeing with her. All the Bertelli men must be a handful. “So, what, you think I’m looking at this marriage wrong? You think I’ll be happy with your son?” I scoff and shake my head at the very thought.
“I think you shouldn’t cave, that’s all. You’ve got a fight in you I recognize well enough. Urzo has a thick skull, but from what I’ve heard, I’m willing to bet you’ll get through to him. That’s why I think you’re right for him. Even if it’s not what you want to hear, he looks at you in a way that he’s never looked at a woman before.”
So, he doesn’t get hard from throwing any woman over his lap then, huh?
We’ve got our own game going on. This push and pull thing. Unlike Bia, I’m not having a great time. Not enough to admit it to myself out loud.
Sure, it crossed my mind to piss him off on purpose to get a reaction out of him. Not just so he’d touch me, but so he’d feel the same frustrations as me. Both mentally and sexually.
Can’t tell his mom that, though. No way in hell.
“I’m willing to bet that if you run, my son will chase you.” She stops me before I can remind her why he would. “Not because it’s good for the family, but because my son is greedier than he wants to let himself off to be.”
I hate that I’m imagining it, but once my thoughts go off the rail, I don’t try to stop it.
Urzo coming after me like a bull seeing red. Him throwing one of his thick arms around my waist and pinning me to his chest.
Him begging me not to leave.
A shiver wracks my body and I’m quick to shove my knees together. Shaking my head like I can jerk the thoughts right back out, she chuckles again before she moves to stand.
“I’ll give you some time to think. Enjoy this hiding place while you can. I’m sure you can get at least an hour to yourself before he flips this place upside down. Check out a book, the romance titles are vast. I look forward to more moments like this. Though something tells me getting you by yourself again will be quite the challenge.”
Thanking her for the chat, I watch her make her way toward the door.
“I’ll make sure no one says anything about seeing you. Good luck, dear.”
My heart aches a little at her motherly advice, and I wonder if I could’ve gotten something from my own if she was still around. Doubtful, but it’s nice to think I could’ve.
Getting up from the couch, I take the time to look at a few books. If I’ve got something in my hands when Urzo finds me, maybe he’ll cut me some slack. Better to be in here than trying to climb the iron fence wrapped around the estate.
There’s a book with a dude’s bare chest on the front. The pages are curled like they’ve been read more than once. Scoffing under my breath, I bring it over to the couch and get comfortable. Laying down, I flip to the back and see it’s a highlander romance all about traveling to Scotland.
Camellia tells me a great way to escape is through books. So, until I’m found, I might as well escape for a bit.
* * *
Turns out, reading books is boring. I don’t know how many pages a flip before I’m dreaming of Scottish burrs instead of reading about them.
I’ll say, a ginger Scotsman doesn’t come close to a wall of muscle covered in scars. Not as exciting.
As soon as I wake up, I feel groggy and disoriented. A little confused. Moving to stretch, I kick something hard. It’s not the arm of the couch.
Jumping, my heart races as I find Urzo sitting there, flipping through the same book I’d attempted to read. I guess it kept him preoccupied while I slept.
To think he didn’t shake me awake after finding me is a surprise in itself.
His eyes flick over to me, his frown growing harsher. Hardly surprising, he doesn’t look happy. He never looks happy. Not unless he’s making me suffer.
“You didn’t do anything to me, did you?” I kick his thigh again like it’ll give me a few inches of space. He grabs my ankle, shoving them off the couch altogether.
“Just listened to that hideous snore.” He moves his eyes, his brows furrowed together. “Slept like a fucking rock. Anything could’ve happened to you, and you wouldn’t have known the difference.”
Is that… concern in his voice? No, I’m hearing things. He’s just mad I left him, that’s all.
“I met your mother. You don’t take much of her beauty, huh?” Swinging my body up to sit, I don’t rush to stand. “She thinks you like me more than you’re letting on. I think she’s crazy.”
I expect an instant retort, something that’ll piss me off, but just like this library, he brings silence for far too long.
Finally, he grunts. “She’s stuck in this place. She likes shoving romance and happy endings down her children’s throats, that’s all. Said the same thing about Santino. Been on cloud nine since, happy to see one of her kids in love.”
Love is a strong word. That guy is obsessed with my sister.
I try to imagine Urzo feeling anything but anger and annoyance for me. Something like what’s in that book he’s tossing to the side.
Before I can think too deep, he’s moving to stand. “We’ve got our hands on the papers. It’s time to sign.”
“Can’t even say please.” Rolling my eyes, I look at the door and chew on my lip.
Bia’s put ideas in my head now. She’s making me want to know what’ll happen if I run away from this man.
He’d try to make an example out of my actions, I’m sure. He wouldn’t chase me.
Fisting my hands tight enough to dig my nails into my palms, I don’t allow myself to think otherwise. Moving to stand, I straighten my shoulders.
I’m still in control. I don’t want to marry this man. Even if he barks out the order, no matter what, I won’t do it.
I won’t sign those papers.