Chapter 11
Sofia
As usual, he’s nowhere to be found when I get out to the kitchen after my morning shower.
I thought that these first few days of captivity—it’s been nearly two weeks since the wedding—would be anything but boring.
That first night in his place, I suppressed so much fear to seem defiant, but I realize there isn’t anything to be scared of.
I’ve kept quiet around him as he’s instructed, which is strangely easy to do seeing that any time we try to communicate with one another, it’s either an annoying or combative conversation.
He’s allowed me to talk to my family at least, although these are very short and infrequent calls that leave me missing them more than anything.
I pace around the island of the kitchen, more stir-crazy than usual. The boredom of having absolutely nothing to do is slowly eating away at my mind. Initially, I was fixated on figuring out a way to escape. But I’m not left with many options here.
For one, I’m confined in his home with all the electronics, cutlery, medication, and anything else useful locked away. There are guards outside the main door all the time. Any attempt at small talk has failed. The balcony rests over a deadly drop, so there’s no climbing down.
I’ve even snooped in the spare bedroom that Alessandro hides himself in when we share his home together.
But there was nothing much of use. It’s just a large room with a ton of books and hobby things, and it seems like he dabbles in everything imaginable: drawing, computer programming, chess, reading physics textbooks for fun.
I meander out towards the balcony where I’ve been spending a good portion of my time. Aside from watching TV shows and movies, getting some sun is my only other form of entertainment.
The morning sun hits my skin, and I realize that the weather is the only thing I can be grateful about in this situation… and that I’m not being tortured in the dungeon.
Before sitting in one of the lounge chairs, I pace the perimeter like a caged zoo animal. If I try to zone out enough, I can forget that I’m walking in a tight circle on a balcony and instead, going for a morning walk. But there’s one thing I keep noticing with every lap: our neighboring balcony.
Can I clear that distance?
I had this thought early on in my stay at the Grand Hotel di Shitbag. But it was more of a musing thought than anything; I quickly brushed it off as too risky. However… now that I’m revisiting this idea, I might not be giving myself enough credit.
I meander towards the side nearest to our neighbor’s. I know it belongs to Elena. I’ve caught her out here getting some sun a couple of times, but she always hurries back in. Alessandro must have instructed her not to talk to me.
If I made the jump, the door to go inside could be locked.
And I could be spotted by Elena, who would alert the guards.
And of course I’d probably kill myself trying to jump.
So, why am I seriously considering this?
Of all my siblings, I’ve always been the most sensible—unless I’m really pissed off. Max would probably attempt this. Bianca does things without thinking all the time. And I know that my oldest brother, Jack, would try this jump for the thrill of it.
I miss him so much.
Since he’s in prison, and I’m only allowed to call my parents twice a week, I won’t get a chance to talk to him again until I get myself out of this situation.
So, let’s get out of this situation.
I lean against the thick stone railing, focusing back on the task at hand.
It’s over a foot in width, so balancing on this thing wouldn’t be a problem.
It’s awkwardly short and easy to climb up.
Then I peer down at the drop that makes my stomach turn.
If I fell, I would probably shatter my legs on impact—assuming I even survived that—and then slide down a rocky cliff for what feels like forever.
Something as simple as a paper cut sends me into a panicked spiral, but heights never bothered me. I’m not like that guy who climbs mountains with no safety gear—I have a normal sense of self-preservation. But I know I could probably suppress this fear enough to jump.
Sitting on the railing is a start. It doesn’t feel too treacherous. Yet.
I rotate ninety-degrees so that I’m sitting with my knees bent towards my chest.
I don’t even know what my plan is at the moment. Am I going to attempt this, or am I getting used to the feeling of being this close to falling? I do my best to shut my mind off and slowly stand up, then face towards Elena’s balcony.
My heart is in my throat. My legs feel wobbly enough to indicate that this would not be a successful jump, and I should get down immediately.
The balcony door on the other side opens, and Elena steps out, a panicked look on her face.
“Don’t,” she says, looking me up and down as her face grows paler. Her appearance looks disheveled, and I question whether she just woke up to the sight of this. I realize now that she could probably see me from her kitchen, assuming her space is set up similarly to Alessandro’s.
It’s clear to me what she thinks my intentions are—and it’s not jumping over to her side. But maybe it’s better for her to think I was upset rather than trying to escape.
“Sorry.” I slowly crouch down, turning so that my feet are safely back on the floor of the balcony. I’m already nervous from looking at that drop, but I play it up and force myself to hyperventilate a little bit.
“You poor thing,” she murmurs. “He’s not as bad as he seems, you know. Alessandro?”
I snort out a laugh, realizing I’m horrible at acting and hiding my emotions.
“You’re his sister, he probably hasn’t shown you his bad side.”
She tilts her head, incredulous. “Has he hurt you?”
“No, but… he’s threatened to gouge out any man’s eyes that looks at me the wrong way.”
This time, Elena snorts. “I’ve seen that side of him. It’s useful, really.”
It’s useful?
What the hell does that even mean?
“I’m going to have to tell him about this immediately,” she says.
“I know.”
“I feel bad about it, though. I don’t like being a rat, but if something were to happen to you…”
I look her up and down, and try to get a sense of whether she would actually care if I died. She’s too hard to read.
“Word of advice?” She raises her eyebrows. “Play it up. My brother always had a soft spot for broken, pretty things.”
Is she referring to other women? And why would I even care?
Elena chuckles as if she can read my mind.
“He found a bird with a broken wing and a crushed leg on the balcony you’re standing on when he was a teenager.
Maybe he was even younger. I can’t remember the details.
But I do know that he poured himself into helping the bird: reading books on ornithology and veterinary medicine.
Eventually, he nursed it back to health, and it flew away. ”
“So I should act like a hurt animal?”
“Maybe. How have you been acting so far?”
I pause, fighting a smile. “Like a standoffish bitch.”
“Entertaining. But you aren’t going to get anywhere with that.” She takes a few steps towards the door, then spares me a glance. “You good?”
“Yeah…” I nod my head, remembering why she asked that question in the first place. “It was only a stupid, impulsive thought.”
She nods her head and leaves me alone. It seems cold of her to leave me this quickly. Or maybe she saw right through me and realized that wasn’t a mental health crisis.
I hurry back inside, my mind racing and wondering how I should act when Alessandro inevitably comes storming back in here, angry at what I almost did. If he even cares. Elena could be wrong in her assessment of her brother.
I might as well try to play it up and act depressed to test her idea. I make my way into the bathroom, realizing I look too put-together right now. My hair is in a tight ponytail, my face made up since I’m so bored in the morning that I don’t know what else to do with myself.
I start by cleaning off my foundation and my lip gloss.
But with my eyes, I realize I shouldn’t use makeup remover and should use water as a crude way to smudge up that area to look as though I’ve been crying.
Then, I head into the closet and put on the rattiest t-shirt and pajama pants I can find to replace the outfit I was wearing.
Then I lie in bed and wait, wondering if I’m capable of forcing myself to cry. I think about all the saddest things I can—missing my family, various funerals I’ve attended, the saddest movies I’ve seen. But nothing comes up. I’ll have to settle for looking despondent.
I hear the main door open to Alessandro’s apartment, followed by hurried footsteps.
I roll over to my side, facing away from the door as I attempt to look as blank as possible.
“What happened?” he growls in a way that makes me jolt when he enters the bedroom.
I stay silent as he walks over to where I’m facing. Then he crouches down. And maybe Elena was on to something, because I’ve never seen him look more concerned in my life.
He quickly masks this, though.
“I was feeling really sad.”
“You didn’t show any signs of this sort of thing before.”
I shrug. He’s not wrong. I’ve mostly been silently glaring at him or trying to subtly fuck with him.
His eyes narrow, and for a moment I worry that he can see right through me. “What do you need from me to avoid this happening again? I’m very busy.”
Wow, he’s such an asshole. What if I were legitimately suicidal? I think about what he’s asking me, and even though I can use this as an opportunity to get something I want, I’m worried he’s skeptical, and I should take his brief moment of concern as a win.
“Nothing. Pretend it never happened. I don’t want to distract you from your job or whatever weird hobbies you have going on in that room.”
“Just answer my question, Sofia. I don’t want to worry about you all day. I’ll figure out how to bring in a psychiatrist if I have to.” He rubs his chin. “I’ll need to find someone willing to accept a bribe to look the other way about your current predicament, but I’m sure I can find someone.”
“No… I don’t need all of that.” He seems to relax at this. “I’m so stir-crazy though. I’m used to being busy and leaving the house every day.”
He swears under his breath, taking what feels like forever to respond to me.
“Would you feel better if I took you outside of the castle? We can share dinner outside on one of the patios. I’ll even shut up and let you eat in peace.”
“Sure.” I nod, my head spinning at what this means.
I can’t believe he’s suggesting this. I suppose there are so many soldiers in this castle that he’s confident I can’t get away or cause too much trouble.
But I’ll be able to learn the layout of this place some more…
make plans for future attempts. I tack on this last part so he doesn’t suspect where my thoughts are actually going.
“I’ve barely been able to eat anything with how closed-in I’ve been feeling. This will help a lot.”
“Fine. I’ll be back here in the evening, and I’ll have my men check on you frequently until then to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.
” He heads towards the bedroom door, then turns around with a scrutinizing gaze.
“And if you think you’ve weaseled your way into finding an opportunity to run away.
You’re wrong. You will wear high heels to this dinner. ”
He smirks at me, and I feel my face flush as he leaves me in the bedroom. Why… does him bossing me around like that make me feel a rush in my core?