Chapter 7 - Marlen
It’s been one of those days when you manage to get everything done and tick off all of those annoying small items that have been on your to-do list for months.
I spent the morning running errands around town, then the afternoon in meetings, and later in the day, I sat in my office and finally replied to and sent off some very tedious emails.
I’m done, and I feel good about the day.
And as I close my laptop and glance out at the sunset, I smile. It’s strange how we put off things that are pretty quick to finish, but when they’re unfinished, they sit in the back of our minds, pestering our thoughts and taking up our time.
Shaking my head at myself, laughing at my own procrastination, I pick up my phone and car keys and do one last quick look around the office to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything, then head out, ready to get home and have dinner with Stefania.
All through the day, I’ve been thinking about her.
Even when I’m busy, she’s in my thoughts.
A constant hum like a pleasant song in the background.
I didn’t see her this morning because I left so early, and I think she slept late because of her tummy ache last night.
I tried my best to take care of her when we got home after dinner…
but when I almost kissed her… that was not part of the plan.
It’s not what I intended, but the feeling was so damn overwhelming.
She looks vulnerable and beautiful. Those lips, those eyes, her innocent expression.
It all pulled me in like a moth to a flame.
I’ve got to be more careful. I told myself in the beginning, before the whole plan rolled into action…
this isn’t some love story. There is no happily-ever-after bullshit going on here.
She is my prisoner, and I am her captor, and her entire purpose revolves around me having the revenge that I’ve been craving for the longest time.
In my car, I turn the music up and slide the convertible top down.
It’s a beautiful evening, and I want to feel the warm air on my skin.
The city is alive with color, and people are walking on the sidewalks, some heading home, some heading out.
Couples. Singles. Groups, laughing and talking loudly.
I listen to them when I stop at traffic lights or sit in brief sections of congestion near main turnoffs.
The drive home is pleasant and calming.
Parking outside the front steps of my mansion, I close the convertible roof and head inside. Through the front windows, there is a warm, welcoming glow. The house feels like a home with the lights on, spilling out into the night.
Pushing the front door open, I’m greeted by an aroma of rich, creamy garlic and cheese sauce.
I follow the smell into the kitchen while my stomach rumbles with eager anticipation of what the chef has made for dinner.
But to my surprise, I don’t find the chef standing over the stove; rather, Stefania.
“You’re cooking?” I blurt out as I walk in.
She spins in fright, the spoon in her hand, dripping creamy sauce onto the floor.
She giggles and shakes her head. “You can’t sneak up on me like that!
” she says with a wide smile that presses dimples into her cheeks and crinkles the corners of her eyes.
She’s wearing tight blue jeans, a black crop top, and a white half-apron tied around her waist. Fuck, she looks cute.
Like she’d actually make a damn good wife.
She is your wife.
“Sorry,” I grin, moving closer to peer into the pot that she’s gone back to stirring.
I dip my finger in, and she slaps my hand. “Hey, you aren’t supposed to do that,” she laughs.
“It smells so damn good. What are you making?” I ask, sucking the sauce off my finger. It’s the perfect blend of creamy and salty.
“Garlic and cheese sauce, fried mushrooms and bacon, and tagliatelle pasta,” she says proudly. “There’s also a nice fresh side salad with rocket and baby tomatoes.”
“Wow, I… why? Why are you cooking?”
“I didn’t know I needed a reason,” she says, turning to me with her hand on her hip and a cheeky look in her eyes.
“You don’t, but…”
“I wanted to say thank you,” she says, smiling sweetly. “For yesterday. The shopping, the dinner. I appreciate it, and I really enjoyed myself.”
The genuine warmth flowing from her seeps right into my heart and pauses me for a moment. I swallow away the well of emotions and hurriedly reply, “There is no need to thank you. You just got what you needed.”
She laughs and tilts her head to the side with one of their brows raised. “We both know I got more than what I actually needed.”
I laugh, a low rumbling sound that is unfamiliar to me for a second. Then I realize, damn, it’s been so long since I laughed. But around Stef, I seem to be doing it more often than not.
“Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes if you want to change or anything before. If not… then why don’t you pour us a glass of wine? White.”
“I’ll pour some wine. That’s a good idea,” I say, leaning over her to grab two wine glasses from the top cabinet. Our bodies brush close together, and I catch a whisper of strawberries and vanilla.
“Ice?”
“Two blocks, please,” she says, seemingly unaware of the sparks that shot between us when I was close to her.
That, or she’s hiding her reaction very well.
It’s not like I didn’t notice the look in her eyes last night, the way her lips parted when mine were close.
The way she tilted her head up toward me in anticipation of the kiss. The kiss that I ran away from.
I scoff at myself. I had to run away from the kiss. What good would come of kissing her? It would only cause trouble. Nothing else.
“Are you ok?” Stefania asks me, scrunching her nose.
“Yes? Why?” I answer too abruptly.
“I thought I heard… never mind,” she shrugs, smiling again.
When the food is she sets the table while I carry it through.
We sit opposite each other, discussing the wine’s aromas and citrus notes.
“It’s more tropical than citrus, don’t you think?” she asks, swirling her glass and placing it under her nose.
“I smell lemon, or lime?” I reply, doing the same thing.
“Do you know anything about wine tasting?” she asks.
I chuckle and shake my head sheepishly. “No, nothing at all. I hardly drink the stuff. But I do own a vineyard in the South of Italy.”
This causes a burst of laughter from her. “You own a vineyard? Why? If you don’t even drink wine?”
I shrug and set the glass down, picking up my fork to take another bite of this incredible food.
She waits for me to finish chewing the wheel, then continues swirling her wine and working out the flavors. “You look like you know what you’re doing,” I remark.
“Oh, no, I have no idea. I just saw this in a movie once.”
I burst out laughing, too. “Well, you could have fooled me.”
“Hey, you’re the one who owns a whole vineyard,” she teases.
“I won it in a bet,” I say.
“That’s some bet. A random vineyard. Just rows of grapes?”
“And a quaint little French cottage on a beautiful plot of land. There’s an old couple living there at the moment.
The guy who bet the land was a real special case.
His parents live there. It was their dream to retire there and live out their older years in peace, but he convinced them to put the land in his name for security reasons.
Unfortunately, they didn’t know he had a gambling problem. ”
“That’s horrible. So, he lost the bet, and you won the land? He didn’t even care that his parents would be homeless?”
“Yes, I won the land with no idea it was occupied. But when I flew down there to see it, I met his parents and… well… They will live out their older years there in peace. No one will bother them.”
Stef stares at me for a moment, her eyes narrowed. She bites her bottom lip and looks away. “That’s very kind of you, Marlen. To do that for them.”
“Anyone would do that for their parents, I’m sure,” I shrug.
“Clearly not, though,” Stef says, smiling, but with a soft sadness in her eyes.
“You ok?” I ask.
“Yes, just… do you think there is possibly some way I could get a message to my family? It doesn’t have to come from me or from… I just… I want them to know I’m alive and I’m not hurt. I hate the idea of them worrying and not knowing anything,” she speaks in a nervous whisper.
While her request is one of care for those she loves, it sparks intense anger inside me.
I stand up suddenly, making her jump in fright.
“Your family deserves to know nothing. They deserve to suffer the pain of the unknown, the worry, the stress. They deserve to lie awake at night, tossing and turning, thinking about all the horrible possibilities of what might have happened to you!” I shout, slamming my fists against the dinner table.
Stefania squeals in fright and pushes her chair backward, standing up and backing away from me.
But her shock is quickly replaced by anger.
“How dare you say that about them. They don’t deserve that at all.
You keep telling me they deserve this horrible thing, but you’re wrong.
They’re good people. They love me. They care.
You’re being an asshole, Marlen. How would you feel if someone put you through the same thing you’re putting them through? ”
“Are you kidding right now? I don’t have to guess how it feels to worry about the people you love.
I worried about my sister when she disappeared.
And I worried about my brother when they ruined his reputation and had people thinking terrible things about him!
That was your family that did those things, Stefania!
” My voice is dark and dangerous. My hands clenched tightly to try and fight the growing fury.
“What are you talking about?” she asks, her eyes tight with worry, her voice strained.
“You really don’t know?” I spit. “You don’t know what they did to Bardil?”
“I don’t know…” she whispers.
“They raided one of his events. At an event hosting some potentially powerful allies, he was trying to meet with them to build our family business. They set smoke bombs and then eventually detonated real bombs. They put lives in danger, they hurt innocent people… but worse, instead of just admitting they did it to stop our family from gaining strength through new alliances, they lied. They couldn’t just admit they were ruthless, so instead they spread the rumor that my brother was hosting auctions to sell women.
They made it sound like they were saviors.
The hero! Human trafficking. That is what they accused him of.
Do you know what that does to a family’s reputation?
Only the worst type of scum gets involved in that shit, and your family and alliances were completely fine with spreading the rumor that Bardil was that type of scum.
My brother. My family. Do you think he deserved that?
Do you think the people who lost their lives in the explosion at the event deserved to die? No, Stefania. They didn’t.”
I’m so angry I’m shaking. Adrenalin is coursing through me.
Stefania’s eyes are blurred with tears, her mouth turned down, and her cheeks flushed red.
“They wouldn’t lie…” she murmurs. “My brothers are good people…”
“They lied, Stefania. They put Bardil through hell trying to regain respect and clean up the disgusting rumors they started.”
“I… I…” she stammers, shaking her head.
“They deserve to suffer,” I snap. “Your family is the monster. Not me. Maybe it’s time you opened your eyes and saw the truth!”
Stefania looks close to breaking down as she backs away from the table. She shakes her head, but with less conviction than before. Without another word, she runs from the dining room, heading upstairs to her bedroom.
I don’t stop her or call out for her. I’m too angry to think straight.
I was harsh. Too blunt. But doesn’t she deserve to know the truth? Doesn’t she deserve to know who her family really is, who they align themselves with?
I could have told her more gently. The shock she’s experiencing now… I didn’t mean to do that to her.
Sighing, pacing up and down along the dinner table, I contemplate going upstairs to apologize. But what is there to say sorry for?
My phone rings, and I answer, standing near the window, pushing my hand through my hair as I stare out into the night with the phone pressed against the side of my head.
“Marlen speaking,” I say abruptly.
“Doesn’t my name come up on your screen?” Simon asks.
“No, it was just a number,” I sigh.
“Weird. I wonder why. I dropped my damn phone this morning and had to have the tech guys copy all my stuff to a new phone. Maybe they messed up somewhere.”
“Why did you call, Simon?” I ask.
“Right, I need your help. I’d like to tell you it won’t take long, but I’d probably be lying,” he sighs.
“For what?”
“One of our clients needs an urgent delivery. I wanted to drive it out there myself, but figured I probably shouldn’t do it alone,” he says.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll come with you.”
“Can you meet me at the warehouse? The order isn’t even packed yet,” he says.
“On my way.”
Before I walk out of the house, I pause at the open front door, wondering if I should go and check on her before I leave. But there isn’t much point. I can’t take back the truth.
I pull the door closed behind me and walk toward my car. I left a handwritten note for her on the kitchen counter. I just said I had to go out. I didn’t want her worrying when she couldn’t find me.
Guilt sits heavy in the pit of my stomach. I can’t imagine what she’s feeling right now, learning what she learnt about her family. Having your world turned like that… It’s daunting. I should have been softer with her. I never even intended to tell her. Especially not like that.