Chapter 26
Istare at my phone, willing it to ring. I've been trying to get ahold of Megan, but she's not returning my calls. I think she may be on a research trip, but I can't remember. Either way, I'd really like to talk to her.
Frustrated, I toss my phone onto the couch.
It's been five days since Enzo walked out of the library, leaving me shattered. Five days of silence, of meals eaten alone, of restless nights in an empty bed.
I've taken to wandering the mansion like a ghost, hoping to catch even a glimpse of him. The guards watch me with blank expressions, their eyes following my movements but offering no information. Even servants who would talk to me have become silent shadows.
Yesterday, I thought I heard him, but when I pushed open the door to see him, I was left with only his cologne lingering in the air.
And Marcella is of no use to me.
All she tells me is, "Mr. Bonventi is not available right now" or "Mr. Bonventi is out."
Last night, after I finished in the library, I ran into her in the hallway and looked her in the eyes, woman to woman, and asked, "Just tell me if he's okay?"
To which she replied, "Your dinner will be served in your room at seven, Miss Falcone," and walked away.
I stand to pace the library, and everything just feels like it's falling apart. The irony isn't wasted on me; I was unhappy coming here, and now I'm unhappy that Enzo's not here.
There's movement on the other side of the door, and I stop to look at it, my heart in my throat.
"Enzo?" I call out.
But I see Antonio in the doorway, a sympathetic smile on his face. He's holding a cup of tea.
"I thought I'd find you here," he says.
I force a smile.
"Chamomile," he says, setting it on the desk. "It'll help you relax, even if it's only midday."
Antonio hasn't said much to me, and I don't blame him. Once Enzo left, the entire house shifted in his favor, as I suppose it should, being the boss and all.
"Have you seen him?" I ask, knowing I shouldn't.
Antonio's smile fades. "You know I can't answer that."
I nod, blinking back tears. Even Antonio, who's shown me nothing but kindness since I arrived, has his limits when it comes to Enzo's commands.
"Thank you. Also, could you tell Marcella I'm not hungry tonight?"
"My dear, you can't skip dinner. It's not good for you," Antonio says.
I shrug, "Well, I'm not hungry, and I don't want to waste it."
Antonio's face turns to concern. "Are you sure? It's only 2 o'clock, how about I come ask you in a few hours?"
I shake my head. "No, that's okay."
He sighs and walks out.
I wrap my hands around the warm cup, grateful for this small kindness.
Taking a sip, the tea scalds my tongue, but I welcome the pain. It's better than this emptiness, this waiting. I've never felt more alone, more trapped. The guards, the servants, the whole mansion seems to be holding its breath, waiting for Enzo's verdict.
What hurts most is knowing he's here, somewhere in these walls. Close enough to touch, yet further away than ever.
I take another sip of tea, letting the hot liquid burn away the lump in my throat.
I reach for my phone, but there are no missed calls, no messages. I decide to dial Megan's number again, pacing as it rings.
"Come on, Megan," I mutter. "Pick up, pick up, pick up."
But once again, it goes to voicemail. I hang up without leaving a message. What would I say anyway? Hey, Megan, I've royally screwed up my arranged marriage to a mafia don by snooping through his family secrets, and now he won't even look at me. Any advice?
I finish my tea, the warmth doing little to soothe the ache in my chest. I decide to let the tea take any effect it can on me and make my way to our bedroom so I can take a nap.
As I approach the door, I hear movement inside. My heart leaps, thinking it might be Enzo, but when I push the door open, I'm greeted by an unfamiliar sight.
A young woman in a black uniform, one of the household staff I've seen around but never spoken to, is methodically folding my clothes and placing them in an open suitcase on the bed. My chest tightens as I watch her pack away my life here, piece by piece.
"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice sounding accusatory.
The woman jumps slightly, obviously not expecting me. "Oh, Miss Falcone," she says, her eyes darting nervously between me and the suitcase. "I'm just following orders."
"Orders? Whose orders?" I say, but I already know the answer.
She hesitates, her hands still holding onto my blouse. "Mr. Bonventi's, ma'am."
Even though I know, hearing her say it makes the room spin, and something snaps inside of me.
"So this is his decision? He's throwing me out without even facing me?" I march to the bed, yanking the blouse from her hands. "What a fucking coward."
The maid steps back, eyes wide. "Miss, I—I don't know anything. I'm just following orders."
"Of course you are." I say, gripping my blouse tightly. "Everyone in this goddamn house just follows orders." I grab my skull pendant, squeezing until the edges dig into my palm. "Tell your boss if he wants to get rid of me, he can look me in the eyes and do it himself."
The woman looks terrified, and a small part of me feels guilty for yelling at her.
"I'm sorry," I say, not sure if I'm apologizing to her or to myself. "I can't, I can't be here right now."
I can't breathe. Can't think. I storm out of the room and down the stairs and nearly collide with Alex in the hallway.
"Take me somewhere," I demand. "Anywhere. I don't care where."
Alex's expression remains neutral. "I can take you to the library or back to your room. Those are my only authorized destinations."
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Mr. Bonventi was clear, he won't interfere with your studies as promised, but all other outings are restricted."
I want to scream. To break something. To make Enzo feel as trapped as I do. Instead, I rub my skull pendant.
"Fine," I say defiantly. "The library then. Let me get my bag."