Julia
I stir the next morning to noise outside the door. For a split second, I tense, wondering if Andreo has somehow found his way back to me, somehow discovered what’s going on and that I’ve been with his father since the last time we laid eyes on each other.
Instead, I hear Antonio’s low tones outside the door. And I know it should come as a relief…
But I find myself even more nervous than before.
I climb out of bed, reaching for whatever clothes I can find in the wardrobe.
There’s not much here, aside from sweatpants and oversized tees, no doubt intended for a man, but I throw them on anyway, not wanting to let anything go by unremarked now I’m here.
I need to keep on top of everything in any way I can, and hopefully, all of this won’t spiral too far out of my control.
Well. Any more than it already has, at least.
I didn’t sleep well last night, tossing and turning, my mind filled with a million questions that I’m not sure I want the answers to. Like where I stand with Antonio now that the two of us have slept together, and what it means for us that I can’t stop thinking about him.
Will it happen again? I sure as hell wouldn’t be opposed to that when it comes to the sheer amount of pleasure he’s able to gift me. But at the same time, I’m not sure where it leaves me that I’ve hooked up with the father of the man I was supposed to marry.
I can already imagine the amount of judgment that will be thrown my way, and the best I can do is keep my head down and pray that nobody asks too many questions.
I crack open the door slightly, peeping into the corridor beyond, and I’m surprised to be met with the sight of a handful of men lurking outside. I furrow my brow, glancing between them, and draw back so I’m just out of sight, hoping I can listen in to whatever they have planned.
“…so I want someone on these doors at all times,” Antonio tells one of them pointedly. “No break. Anyone needs to step away, they get someone else to cover for them, you understand?”
There’s a mutter of agreement, but my eyes widen at the sound of his words, less than impressed by the way he’s talking right now.
Oh, so he’s just going to keep me locked up in here, where he can keep an eye on me, is that it? I might be his wife, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be his prisoner.
I push the door open and step out, tossing my hair over my shoulder, doing my best to muster all of my confidence even in the outfit I’m currently wearing.
“Julia,” Antonio greets me evenly. His tone is entirely unreadable, and as our eyes lock, my head swims slightly.
I can feel the memories dancing through my mind, the heat of our bodies pressed together, how right it felt to give myself to him, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
How he tried to resist at first, but eventually gave in to our chemistry, sensing that holding back would only end in frustration for the both of us.
“What are you doing?” I ask, gesturing to the half dozen or so men standing around right now.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” he replies, and I let out a snort.
“Uh, yeah, I don’t believe you,” I tell him bluntly. “So. Come clean. What exactly are you planning here?”
He takes a step toward me, and gestures to the men standing around him. “These men are going to keep watch on your quarters at all times,” he explains. “To make sure nothing happens to you.”
I plant my hands on my hips, shrugging. “I thought this place was locked down,” I reply. “What are you worried about happening, exactly? If you know what you’re doing?”
His gaze flickers with irritation, and I can tell I’m getting to him.
I tighten my jaw, not looking away. If I’m going to be stuck here, then I need to put my foot down and prove that there is still some control left, that I’m not entirely willing to just bend to his will and let him do whatever he wants.
He raises a hand, dismissing the men who are standing around him, and they rush off like they don’t want to be caught up in what happens next.
Antonio turns his gaze to me. “You need to rest. And eat. Not worry about what I’m doing here.”
“I’m sorry, but if you’re going to keep me locked up in here, I think I have a right to know about it,” I protest, gesturing to the room I just came from.
The way he’s looking at me right now, I can’t help but wonder where the man I met last night has vanished to. It’s like that version of him has just ceased to be, and the one I’ve been left with is too pissed and too controlling to allow for anything other than his way.
“I’m not keeping you locked up. I’m keeping you safe.”
“From what?” I demand, tossing my hands in the air. “Look, I get it, I do—I get that there’s a lot going on here that I don’t understand. But I’m hardly a part of it—”
“You were part of it the moment you got engaged to my son,” he replies, tone cool, considered.
That only serves to frustrate me more. The way he speaks to me like I’m the one being irrational, and he’s the most sensible guy in the world, drives me crazy.
Reminds me of how Andreo would be with me sometimes, when I’d try to call him out for flirting with another woman right in front of me or something, and he would lash out like I was making shit up wholesale.
“And so now I have to do anything you say.” I roll my eyes skyward. “Got it.”
“You think I want this?” Antonio demands, taking a step toward me. The sudden closing of the distance between us makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and I’m not sure if it’s fear or something else entirely.
“I don’t know what the hell you want,” I hiss back. “You got married to me, and then last night—”
His eyes darken. “Last night shouldn’t have happened,” he tells me, his voice edged with something sharp. I can’t tell if he’s trying to convince me or himself, and I’m not sure I want to.
I glance downward, recalling the moment I looked down to see my dress pooled at my feet, the feeling it gave me to be exposed in front of him.
I felt so vulnerable then, but now it’s like I want to forget all of it.
Like the memory is too cruel to sustain, and I’m better off pretending it never happened.
“Well, it did,” I reply. “And if you think that gives you some kind of power over me—”
“Julia, who do you think I am?”
I stare a him for a moment, confused. “What do you—”
“No, I’m asking you,” he says, taking a step toward me, not breaking my gaze. It’s almost a challenge, but one I’m not sure if I’m meant to rise to or brush off.
Does he expect me to just fold under this pressure, tell him that I’m sorry for trying to make a scene and that I can see now that he’s right about all of this? I don’t know. My heart thuds in my chest, and I do my best to keep my cool, as much as I want to let it slide right now.
“Andreo’s father,” I offer, trying to remember everything his son once told me about his father. “Uh, you own the family business…”
“And that business is what, exactly?” he asks. “How much did he tell you?”
I swallow hard. “Not much,” I admit. “I just know that it’s…”
“Outside the law,” he finishes for me. “Which means that my enemies operate outside of the law too. So any protection I have, it needs to come from me. And I’m sure as hell not going to risk letting something happen to you because you’re too stubborn to see that.”
I flick my eyes back and forth between his. “So, this is how it works now, then?” I ask. “You tell me what to do, and I just…accept it?”
“If you know what’s good for you.”
There’s almost a threatening edge to his voice—or perhaps I’m imagining it there because I’m a little terrified of him right now.
I know that he won’t hurt me himself, no—not after what he said to me the night of the wedding, when he told me that this marriage was intended to keep me safe.
But what does safety look like, under his control?
Is it anything close to the freedom I knew before I was with his son, or is it just more walls closing in around me, under the pretense of keeping me safe?
I don’t know, and at this point, I’m all too aware that I have no choice but to find out.
I part my lips, considering arguing with him further, but I’ve already gone as far as I can without sending him over the edge. I wonder what else has happened, to shift his mood from last night and turn this into something that I seem to have such little say in.
“The guards will be at your door all day and night,” he continues, before I can get out another word. “Anything you need, you can ask them, and they’ll pass it along to me.”
“And what if I want some time to myself?” I retort.
His eyes narrow slightly. “You can have it when I know you’re safe.”
And with that, he turns on his heel and marches back up the corridor, leaving me standing there and staring after him.
I want to yell after him—when exactly is he going to decide that I’m safe? What is it going to take for him to believe that I’m not at risk here? And how long does he intend on using that as an excuse to do pretty much anything he wants?
I turn back into the bedroom and pull the door shut behind me, flopping down on the bed with a long sigh.
Shit.
I don’t know what I got myself into here, when I let that man slip the ring onto my finger.
Maybe I should have gathered my skirts and run for my life before I let anything else happen, promised myself a new start somewhere far from this family, far from these men, as crazy as that sounds to me now.
Or maybe I would have run into one of the threats that Antonio seems so convinced are lurking just around the corner for me. I have no idea. But it looks like Antonio is going to do everything he can to keep me from finding out.
Burying my head in the pillow, I let out a muffled scream. I have never done well with feeling trapped—and yet, once again, here I am, locked away with no hope of escape.
Even if the man locking me away seems certain that it’s for my own good.