13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Mariella
“ W ill you please talk to me,” the girl who’s wearing different colored leggings and shirt today pleads as soon as I enter the room.
I freeze in the doorway, fingers tightening around the tray until my knuckles ache. Giulia’s warning is still ringing loud and clear in my mind.
“Don’t engage with her,” not beyond delivering food and clearing it away.
What could be so bad about this girl that Giulia would call her the devil’s spawn?
It seems absurd.
She can’t be that dangerous. I don’t even have Dario escorting me today. I’m all by myself, so she can’t be that bad. Right?
But then again, I’m in the part of the building that’s heavily secured. I glance around, suddenly more aware of the bars on the window, the heavy door and the silent cameras.
How did I miss all of this last night? Even more ludicrously, how could I have thought for even a minute that this young woman could be Mateo’s lover?
Jealousy, that’s how.
It warps your mind and twists things that aren’t there. Though she really is his type.
I incline my head, chewing on my lip as I study her. She looks so normal.
Just a girl.
There’s nothing threatening about her, no dark aura, no chilling presence. I don’t sense a single ripple of danger. If anything, she seems fragile. I search her face, waiting for that uneasy gut feeling to kick in, but it doesn’t.
Giulia must have exaggerated.
But the question still lingers. Why is she locked away?
I know I should leave. In and out, remember? Those were my instructions. And if nothing else, I’m good at following orders. Thanks, Father.
I huff quietly to myself, resentment bubbling up as I step further into the room. I walk straight to the table and set down the tray.
“Please,” the girl begs again, her voice sounding broken and desperate. “Nobody talks to me. I’m stir crazy.”
With a deep breath, I turn around, eyeing her warily.
Her eyes perk up the slightest bit. “What’s your name?”
When I don’t answer, she’s quick to keep talking.
“I’m Sofia.”
Sofia? Why does that name ring a bell?
Before I can stop myself, the question slips out, my voice barely above a whisper, afraid that somebody might hear me talking to her.
“Why are you in here?”
“Huh,” she huffs, and it sounds a little unsure.
I wait, watching as her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink.
“I guess I got on the wrong side of Don De Marco. But I’ve only been acting on my father’s orders. I didn’t really want to do it. But what other choice did I have? When my father says jump, the only right answer is ‘how high’.”
She’s rushing out the words as if she’s accumulated them for weeks and now they’re finally allowed to burst free.
A pang of recognition hits me as her words tumble out. Dealing with an overbearing father? It’s all too familiar. Just like me, it seems she’s expected to follow orders, no questions asked, because that’s the only way it works.
“Who is your father? What did he make you do?” I ask, curious now.
She wrings her hands together, staring at the floor.
“Sofia?” I prompt.
Still, she hesitates.
“Speaking of him here… saying his name isn’t a good idea.”
Now I’m even more curious.
“You can tell me. I won’t tell anybody we talked.”
A small smile spreads across her face, but it disappears quickly, and she turns serious again. She lets out another long sigh.
“Molinaro. I am Sofia Molinaro.”
Her voice is stronger now, calmer too, as if saying her name, even in the enemy’s territory, is giving her strength.
Sofia Molinaro.
I gasp, taking an involuntary step back and crashing into the small table behind me. The dishes rattle, and I instinctively shoot out my hand, just in time to catch the bottle of water before it tips over.
Suddenly it’s clear why Giulia called her the devil’s spawn.
She comes from the family that was the De Marcos’ greatest enemy. A family that no longer exists. Except for her.
“You are the one who lured Ella away so your father could kidnap her,” I say, unable to fully mask the accusation in my voice.
She wrings her hands again, letting her head fall back and staring at the ceiling. Her eyes are glistening with tears.
“That’s me,” she sounds defeated once more. “Like I told you, it was on my father’s orders. You don’t defy him. Ever.”
I nod. Yeah, I understand.
“We thought you were dead,” I say, still reeling from the shock of her revelation.
“We?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
I shake my head. I’ve already said too much. If anyone finds out I’ve spoken to the enemy or shared even a scrap of information, I’d probably end up in a cell myself. I glance nervously at the camera in the corner, its red light flashing tauntingly.
Please, God, don’t let anyone be watching the live feed, I silently pray.
“Who is we?” Sofia asks again.
Part of me wants to tell her, if only to see if she cared at all about Ella’s fate.
What would have happened to her if they had succeeded? Would they have killed Ella?
She confided in me a few days after the failed kidnapping attempt. Kind soul that she is, she was distraught and wracked with guilt, believing she had the deaths of people on her conscience, Sofia being one of them. At least that’s what Signor De Marco had her and the rest of us believe.
“I have to go. They’ll be wondering what’s taking me so long.”
“If everyone thinks I’m dead, that explains why Father hasn’t come for me.”
“Your father?” I repeat in dismay, my grip faltering as I accidentally tip the tray, nearly sending the dishes crashing to the floor.
Oh my god, she doesn’t know that he’s dead.
My thoughts must be plain as day, because Sofia has gone rigid, her eyes widening.
“What is it?” she asks. There’s a slight tremor in her voice. “What about my father?”
I shake my head. I can’t be the one telling her that her entire family is gone.
Turning abruptly, I make my escape toward the door, my steps faster than I intended. “I really have to go.”
“Wait,” she calls after me, her tone pleading. “I don’t even know your name. Please, what’s your name?”
But I don’t stop again, rushing through the door.
What have I done?
I revealed things to her I don’t think she was meant to know.
Merda.
The heavy door falls shut behind me, and I hear the locks clicking into place.
I really shouldn’t have talked to her. While I didn’t say it outright, I’m sure she’s pieced her father’s fate together.
What will that do to her? It’s obvious she’s been clinging to the hope that he’d come for her, that he’d save her somehow.
Now what?
I’ve just shattered the only thing keeping her going.
What happens to someone when the last thread of hope dissolves?
And what will happen to me when the Don finds out I was the one who let it slip?