8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Mariella
M y gaze lands on a beautiful blonde girl lying across a bed watching television, and my stomach fills with lead.
She’s a few years older than me, twenty-three or twenty-four perhaps. She’s not wearing makeup and is dressed in sweatpants and a simple shirt. And still she’s stunning.
Just his type.
At first, she seems disinterested, but then she looks directly at me, her eyes brightening. She sits up and tosses the remote across the bed. There’s an air of confidence around her I wish I had.
Dammit.
Just like the women Mateo De Marco is usually seen with.
I scan the room for the table Dario mentioned and walk toward it with my head held high and my back straight. Fake it till you make it, right?
Hmm, this space is so much smaller than I expected. Maybe she isn’t Mateo’s girlfriend after all, maybe not even his mistress. I’d imagine he’d spoil his women, give them only the best and shower them with luxuries.
But this room? It’s sparse.
There’s the bed, the table with a chair and a television mounted to the wall. That’s it.
And off in one corner is a door, which I assume leads to a bathroom.
“Hello,” the blonde says, her voice tentative and hopeful.
I don’t answer and turn away, heading toward the table.
My scalp prickles. I can feel her eyes on me.
“Hello,” she says again, her voice still laced with reserved optimism.
It’s hard to remain silent when, for my entire life, I’ve been told to be polite and responsive to everyone around me.
I purse my lips as I set the tray down awkwardly.
“Please! What’s your name?” the girl asks, an edge of desperation in her tone now.
My pulse speeds up.
I don’t like this.
Why is she locked away in here?
My fingers tremble as I pick up the old tray. Without looking at the girl, I flee the room, pulling the door shut behind me.
Dario looks up from the newspaper. “All good?” he asks, and I give him a nod.
I don’t want him or Giulia to doubt my ability to deliver a simple tray of food.
But as we walk back to the kitchen, I can’t help but wonder who that girl was.
Did she misbehave, and he’s punishing her? How long has she been in that room? What will happen to her?
And how many more gorgeous blondes has Mateo stashed around the place?
So many questions. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask Dario. He’d know for sure. He seems well informed, and from overhearing Father’s goons chat sometimes, I’ve learned that men gossip just as much as women.
But I keep my mouth shut. Given I only just arrived, I don’t want to come across as nosy.
Best to stay out of it, even though those questions are burning holes in my insides.
After the delicious risotto Giulia prepared, she showed me to my room. It’s not in the staff part of the house like I had expected, but in the upstairs part of the guest wing.
The room is large and airy, with lush green potted plants in each corner. It even has a small balcony that overlooks the vast gardens. It’s so much more than I expected. I feel like I’m on vacation or an honored guest.
I take in the expensive art hanging on the walls and stop at the bookshelf against one side of the room.
Everything is so… homey.
I run my fingers over the spines of the books, searching for something light to settle my mind. The top shelves are filled with thrillers. I wrinkle my nose. I’ve never read one and can’t imagine enjoying the genre. My life is thrilling enough as it is. I don’t need more excitement.
On the lower shelves are books about the history of Sicily and Rome, alongside volumes on ancient Roman culture. Being in Rome, it’s only right to brush up on some of its history. I’m hoping to get a chance to go sightseeing soon. It would be tragic to be surrounded by this city’s rich past and never truly explore it. I may never have another chance.
Before I can choose a book, a message alert chimes from the bedside drawer where I left the phone Isa gave me.
I jump up onto the bed and let myself fall backward. Just like this room, it’s huge, comfy, and the duvet so soft, I want to rub my face all over it. But not while I still have makeup on. I can almost hear my mother’s voice scolding me.
I sit up and cross my legs to read my sister’s message.
Isa: What a day! How are you holding up? Have you settled in?
What a day indeed!
When I got up this morning, I never could have imagined the day would end like this.
If everything had gone according to Father’s plan, I’d be in bed with Renaldo now, losing my virginity to a man who doesn’t care one bit about me.
He probably would’ve gone through with it, indifferent to my pleasure, then left me alone in bed, likely broken and in pain.
My entire body shudders at the thought, and I sag against the pillow, clutching the phone to my chest.
I dodged a bullet.
Though a literal bullet might still find its target right between my eyes.
Tears well up, clogging my throat.
They’re tears of gratitude for having been given a way out. Even with an uncertain future looming over me, I’ll take it gladly.
Anything is better than marrying Renaldo.
Instead of texting back, I hit the call button, needing to hear my sister’s voice.
She answers on the second ring. “Mari,” she whispers, her voice sounding strange. “I was hoping you wouldn’t be asleep yet.”
“You sound funny. Where are you?” I ask, my stomach going into freefall.
Did something happen?
“Under the blanket. I hope it will muffle my voice. I don’t want anybody to discover that we have phones.”
I’m glad Isa is thinking about these things.
“Is Father home?” I ask, dreading the answer no matter what it is.
“No, not yet. Mamma hasn’t heard from him either.”
My heart sinks. “Do you think he’s still with the Contis?”
“I doubt it. Try not to worry. You know, it’s not unusual for him to spend the night elsewhere.”
That’s true. And I normally don’t care what he’s up to or where he is. But with how furious he was with me? I’d rather know than be left in the dark.
“What if he comes to Rome?”
“And go against the Don’s orders? He wants to be the next consigliere. He wouldn’t risk it.”
What she says makes sense. My father wants the power that comes with the position of adviser to la famiglia . He’s been vying for it for years. He wouldn’t jeopardize it when he’s so close, would he?
Barroni, the current consigliere, will retire at the start of the new year. That’s a little over two months away. Everything Father worked for since he started with the De Marcos decades ago is within reach.
“You’re right, Isa. I’m just being paranoid.”
“You have every right to be given his reaction at the church. But you’re safe. Now, tell me all about Rome.”
I chuckle. “It’s not like I’ve seen any of it. I’m at Carloso now.”
“Carloso? What’s that?”
“That’s what they call the De Marco estate here, after their grandfather Carlo, who built it.”
“Ah. What’s it like?”
I tuck the phone between my cheek and shoulder and take my duffel bag to the walk-in-closet.
“Grand, of course, but strangely homey. The housekeeper is super nice. She even hugged me, and she calls me mia cara . Signor De Marco said to help her out, but I’m not sure she’ll let me. What will I do with myself all day long?”
“You could work on your designs. You’ve got your sketchbooks.”
“I suppose.”
I hang up my jacket, taking in the space. My eyes land on a large, black case on the top shelf, next to a clear storage box with extra pillows and blankets.
Is that…?
“You know, I thought of you while I was getting ready for bed. This is your chance, Mari!”
“My chance for what?”
“You’re away from Sicily and all the restrictions Father puts on us. This is a precious gift! Use it.
“If we had money hidden away, I’d say make a run for it. But as we don’t, you must make the best of it. Explore the city, make new friends, take a lover. Better still, seduce Mateo De Marco.”
I laugh at that, loudly. I’m glad I’m in the closet and nobody can hear us.
“I wouldn’t know how to seduce a man. Let alone Mateo De Marco.” Remembering the girls I saw today, I sigh. “I’m not his type anyway. He likes blondes. I saw him with one at the airport. They were making out.”
Admittedly, I didn’t see him kiss her, but it was pretty obvious that’s what he was doing when he leaned into the car.
“And get this, there’s a blonde girl hidden away in this house. I had to take dinner to her and wasn’t allowed to speak. I’m kind of worried I’ll come across more of them,” I half joke.
“Who was she?”
“No idea. I didn’t look at her for long. But she was gorgeous.”
We chat for a while longer. It’s so good to hear Isa’s voice. We always spend time together after we’ve been sent to our rooms. It’s a little normalcy in an otherwise crazy day.
With the promise to talk again tomorrow, we hang up. Even though it’s late, I’m not tired. My nap on the plane must have recharged me enough.
Plus, it might take me a little while to get settled into this new environment, having never slept anywhere other than home.
I go back into the closet and stare at the black case.
Could I?
It’s in my room, and I think it might help me relax more.
I chew on my lips, debating what to do.
Screw it.
What does Mia always say?
It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.