Chapter 10
TEN
Violetta
After only a couple of days of self-imposed isolation, I'm starting to tire of being alone. That surprises me. At first I enjoyed the stillness. Witnessing Olivia's meltdown and Damiano's reaction unsettled me. I have some sympathy for both of them, but I doubt either would welcome my pity.
With so much family drama going on, I didn't want to get in the way. Now I'm feeling awkward about injecting my presence into their lives once more.
Damiano hasn't come to see me since I took to my room.
I'm not sure whether he regrets telling me I was worth more to him than the land he'll acquire if we marry. Perhaps he fears I'll ask him to explain what he meant. I dismiss that thought. Damiano isn't a man who'll let me force him into discussing his motivations.
It's hard not knowing what he's thinking, though, because if I could believe he cares for me just a little, that would make this whole situation more palatable. I'm not saying I'd be happy to marry him, but I'd be less frightened of the prospect.
The only person I've seen is Lina, who's been bringing meals up to me, along with various books she thinks I might like.
I'm coming toward the end of a crime thriller where I'm pretty sure I know who the murderer is when there's a gentle knock at the door.
I set the book down and go to open it for Lina, who's balancing a tray on one hand.
"Good morning, Violetta." She comes into the room and places the tray on the dressing table. There's my usual espresso, a couple of my favorite pastries and a glass of orange juice. "How did you sleep?"
"Very well, thank you," I say as I sit on the stool at the dressing table.
She smiles, but then a perplexed frown creeps across her face. "You can't stay in here forever, you know."
I could try.
"I know, but I'd prefer to until things have calmed down."
Lina smiles. "You'd be waiting a long time for that to happen, but you will have the place to yourself for a few days."
"Really?"
"Yes. Damiano is escorting Signorina Olivia back to New York. She's getting married." Lina purses her lips. "In a few days."
Shock reverberates through me. "So soon?"
"When these men decide on something they don't hang around."
Like Damiano, I think to myself. Once he decides on something, he acts. Has he already made arrangements for our marriage without consulting me? As I ponder that, I realize Lina said I would have the place to myself.
"What about Lorenzo?" It feels safer to focus on him.
"He's going to New York too."
"Oh? Has he recovered?" When I saw him lying on that bed, he looked incredibly pale.
"Probably not, but he's up and about and causing chaos as usual." There's obvious affection for the younger Volante brother in her voice.
"You've known the family for a long time."
"Yes, since they were small boys, Elio and Riccardo too. They grew up together in Rome." Curiosity must show on my face because Lina shakes her head. "And no, I won't be sharing any secrets."
I laugh. "I wouldn't expect you to."
Lina pats my shoulder affectionately. "Enjoy your breakfast. They'll be leaving within the hour so you'll be safe to come out after that."
Safe? I doubt I'll ever be that now Damiano's set his sights on me.
Though she doesn't intend to, Lina makes me feel foolish for hiding out in my room.
Perhaps I'll try to explore the house while Damiano is gone.
I enjoyed spending time in the sitting room the other night before he and Olivia came home.
I'd also love to check out the gardens, unless that's prohibited.
As I take a bite of my Danish pastry and wash it down with a sip of coffee, there's another knock at the door. This one is sharper than Lina's gentle tap.
"Come in." I sit up straighter, my heart racing as I expect Damiano to walk in.
A strange sense of disappointment sweeps over me when it's Olivia who enters. I choose not to examine that too closely.
I'd rather not consider the reasons I hoped Damiano would come to me, so I focus my attention on Olivia as she closes the door behind her.
Dressed in navy trousers and a cream silk blouse, she looks incredible. Her makeup is flawless and her hair is tied in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Sitting here in my pajamas, I can't help being intimidated by the younger woman's sophistication.
"So, this is where you've been hiding," she teases.
"I didn't think anyone would notice I was missing."
She smiles. "We noticed. Trying to stay out of the war zone, were you?"
"Is it still a war zone?"
"No. Damiano and I have called a truce. He's not the one I'm angry with."
She sits on the edge of the bed. In this light, her makeup doesn't completely conceal the slight puffiness around her eyes.
"Are you okay?"
"With marrying Piotr?" She shrugs. "Yeah, it'll be fine."
"Olivia." I don't know her well, but I can tell she's trying to put a brave face on things.
"It's fine," she says. "And anyway, I didn't come up here to talk about me. I wanted to see how you're doing."
"I'm okay."
"Really?"
I look down into my half-empty coffee cup. "I will be."
"Well, I bring good news." Olivia furrows her brow as she considers what she just said. "At least I hope it's good. Damiano says you can go back to work tonight."
I look up at her, wondering why Damiano didn't come to tell me that himself.
"Oh?"
"Yes. Damiano assigned someone to look after you. He'll drive you to and from the club but other than that, I guess it's business as usual."
I smile weakly.
"Not quite."
"Well, no, but at least you get to go back to work. It must be so exciting working in a club with all those VIPs."
Considering the wealth the Volante family possesses, I can't imagine Olivia is a stranger to attending glamorous events with actors and sports personalities. But having a job like mine is a freedom she might never be allowed, so I can understand why she might think it's something to aspire to.
Even as I feel a twinge of sympathy for her, I realize I may soon find myself in the same position. If Damiano is serious about making me his wife, will he allow me to continue working at La Stanza Rossa? Or will he decide he prefers me at home warming his bed and birthing his heirs?
"It has its moments." I have to admit I love my job most of the time. "But it's the means to an end. What I really want is to go to university."
"You didn't go straight after high school?"
"No, I needed to work to help my mom with the bills." She'd only ever had minimum wage jobs and struggled with debt. Helping her clear her credit card bills and get back on her feet is one of my proudest achievements, but it meant putting my ambition on hold.
"I'm sure you'll get there," Olivia says.
She offers me a reassuring smile as we lapse into silence.
With the way her gaze anxiously darts to the door, I get the feeling she's stalling for time — like a woman about to face her doom.
I want to give her a hug and tell her everything will work out okay, but I don't know that it will, for her or for me.
We sit quietly for a moment, then Olivia clears her throat.
"You know, Damiano considers this house to be his sanctuary," she says.
"It's a pretty opulent sanctuary."
"Well, my cousin doesn't do anything by halves."
Olivia fidgets with the hem of her blouse as if she's trying to decide whether or not to say something. After a moment, she looks over at me again.
"You know, you wouldn't be here unless you mattered to him."
"I'm here because he wants to make a deal with my grandfather." Or Lorenzo does. The whole thing confuses me. I have no idea what land my grandfather owns or why Damiano's brother would want it.
"Perhaps that's what my cousin told you," Olivia says, "but I know him. There's more to it, otherwise he'd just put a gun to your grandfather's head."
I don't have the chance to argue with her as someone yells her name. Olivia rises from the bed and smooths down her pants.
"I guess you won't be getting the benefit of any more of my wisdom." She offers me a faint smile.
I set down my coffee cup and get to my feet as she crosses the room toward me. We're about the same height but in her five-inch heels she towers over me.
"It was nice to meet you, Violetta. She wraps her arms around me. "Don't hide in here forever."
"I won't." I squeeze her tight. Given a little more time, I think we'd have become friends. "Good luck with the wedding."
"Good luck with Damiano," she returns. "Don't let him walk all over you."
That's easier said than done, but I nod as she releases me and heads for the door.
As it shuts behind her, I resume my seat at the dressing table and eat what's left of my pastry. The coffee has gone cold but I drink it anyway.
Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I wonder what will happen to me.
Am I strong enough to withstand Damiano Volante? I suppose I’m about to find out.