JULIA
I fluff my hand through my hair, putting on my best wide-eyed, innocent look. I have no idea if they’re going to buy it, but hell, I have to give it a try, right?
It has been four days—four days since that confrontation with Antonio in his office, when he made it clear that he wasn’t going to let me walk out of this place without a fight.
No divorce, no calm breakup, no amicable release where I could just go back to the life I knew before.
No, I’m in this for the long haul now. Which means I need to start testing the boundaries, figuring out exactly what I can and can’t get away with.
It feels like being a teenager again. Shit, it feels like being back with Andreo, though I’m trying not to grant that fucker too much room in my head.
Now that I have some distance from him, I can see all the ways he made my life hell, all the ways he closed in the walls around me and gave me no choice but to live by the rules he deemed right for me.
Which just so happened to involve me staying in our apartment unless he was with me, and giving him blow-by-blow accounts of everything that happened on those rare occasions he granted me my freedom.
Because he was so sure I was going to run off and start cheating on him the first chance I got.
Crazy, looking back, that I put up with that crap.
He convinced me it was nothing but kindness on his part, that he wanted me to be safe, that he would provide everything I could possibly ask for so why would I need to go out alone, anyway?
I didn’t need a job, or to study, or to worry about what I was going to do down the line, because he would always be there for me.
And look how that turned out.
I can see now that it kind of fits that my first real relationship would be with someone who matched so closely to the dynamic that my own parents put me through.
Those closed doors, suffocating walls, screaming matches when I did anything wrong, that’s all I had known as a kid, so of course I went stumbling straight into it when I was old enough to make choices for myself.
When I first met Andreo, I was so convinced that I would make a different life with him than the one my mom had made with my father.
Because Andreo treated me so much better than my father ever had my mother, or the other way around, for that matter.
He pampered me with gifts, got me anything I wanted, booked me fancy dates at expensive restaurants—made an effort with me, in a way I had never seen with my own parents.
And I had been so sure that I wouldn’t make the same mistakes, that I would never end up spitting the same venom that my parents had, that I fell for it.
Let myself get drawn into it. Until what was left of my life just fell away, and all that was left was him—hardly any friends, no education, no work experience on my resume, aside from the coffee shop waitressing gig I did straight out of high school that Andreo had assured me I didn’t need because he was there to take care of me now.
It had seemed like a damn fairy tale, but…
But now I can see it for what it was. Control.
The same control, actually, that his father seems so intent on exerting over me now.
And this time, I’m not just going to submit to it like I did the last time.
No, this time, I’m digging my heels in, making a scene, doing whatever it takes to keep my head above water.
And that starts right now, as I find a way out of this mansion and into the fresh air once more.
I prop the door of my room open slightly and peep outside.
The camera winks down at me from the end of the darkened corridor, but I pay it no mind.
I can only imagine that Antonio is watching somewhere, but he can’t keep an eye on me all the time, right?
And the guard in this hallway right now is Paulo, who seems to be one of the least restrictive of the dozen or so who rotate out around this place.
I’ve gotten to know all of them, speaking to them all in turn, figuring out who might be a little more permissive and who’s going to uphold Antonio’s rules as though they are the most important things in the world.
I plaster a smile on my face and start to move toward the end of the corridor, biting my lip and widening my eyes in an attempt to earn some sympathy should anyone see me.
I doubt that it will be forthcoming, given that I’ve had pretty much everything taken care of since the second I set foot in here—every meal cooked for me, every piece of clothing provided to me, even books and movies uploaded onto a laptop for me to keep myself entertained.
Really, I shouldn’t be searching so keenly for a way out, but I just can’t stand the thought of staying in these walls another second.
The window at the end of my bed looks out on to an enormous garden, which is practically glowing with greenery—trees heavy with leaves, flowers dotting the beds.
I’ve been aching for days now to feel it under my feet, the warmth of the direct sun on my skin, and I have resolved to test the bounds of everything Antonio has put in place.
Mustering as much courage as I can, I attempt to breeze past Paulo in the hopes that he won’t even bother to stop me.
But a moment later, I hear a voice calling out to me. “Hey, Julia!”
I stop in my tracks, wincing, and then turn to him with as big a smile as I can muster.
“Oh, hey, Paulo,” I say, fluttering my lashes at him. I’ve never been above flirting to get what I want, and that sure as hell is not going to change now.
He narrows his eyes at me, looking me up and down. “You okay?” he asks, with obvious incredulity.
I nod, and then shake my head, as though confessing some deep-seated secret to him.
“You know, I’m actually feeling kind of…rough today,” I admit, taking another step toward him. I made sure to go heavy on the perfume when I was fresh out of the shower this morning, intending to throw everything in my arsenal at this man in the hopes of tasting that fresh air once more.
The furrows in his brow deepen. “Oh, yeah? How so?”
I sigh, looking away from him. “Oh, you probably don’t want to hear it…”
“Julia, I’m meant to be here to look out for you,” he reminds me, his voice dropping slightly, softening. “Now, tell me. What’s wrong?”
“I was just…looking at the garden, from the bedroom,” I explain, gesturing back along the corridor. “And it’s so pretty this time of year. I was just hoping…God, that I could get out and pick a few flowers, something to bring back to my room, you know?”
I stare up at him hopefully, letting my hair fall into my face, trying to make myself look as innocent and hopeful as possible. He glances toward the door, and I can see something in him wavering, even as he tries to dig his heels in.
“You know I’m not supposed to let you out of here…”
“Yeah, I know that,” I assure him. “But it would only be for a few minutes, and I promise I would be back soon. Nobody would even have to know about it, right? If I could just…” I let the words linger in the air, and he stares down at me, calculating.
“Do you have a daughter?” I ask him, trying to change my approach.
He doesn’t reply.
“Because, you know, if you did, you wouldn’t want her locked up inside all day, would you?” I point out. “You’d want her to be able to get out and enjoy the real world. Besides, it’s just for a few minutes. Nothing longer than that.”
“Nothing longer?”
I can tell he’s wavering, about to give in. Of course, I am mostly telling him the truth. I will be back soon. At least, this time.
This first attempt is just about me getting out into the world, seeing if I can escape the confines of this place, even for a few minutes.
It’s not going to be for long, but I can prove to myself that there’s hope.
And if I can get out once, then I can get out again, and if I can get out again, I might be able to make it longer, further, until this place is in my rearview mirror entirely.
If Antonio isn’t going to grant me a reprieve, then I guess I’m going to have to do it for myself…
“Five minutes,” Paulo tells me, and I clap my hands together, playing at childlike glee, since that seems to work on him.
“Oh, thank you!” I gush, and I lean up to pull him into a hug. When I pull back, I notice that he’s slightly red around his collar, and he doesn’t meet my gaze.
“Come on,” he tells me gruffly. “Before I change my mind—”
“Right, of course,” I reply, grinning so widely it feels like it might burst right off my face. I practically skip behind him along the corridor—but before I can even get a taste of my freedom, the door opens before us, and I come to a sudden stop.
It’s Antonio. He looks between us, expression unreadable. “Paulo, you’re meant to be on the door.”
“I know, but—”
“Go. Now. Back to your post.” His voice is even, but controlled, as if he’s intent on making certain that Paulo doesn’t cause him any more trouble.
I stand there before him, a cold shiver running down my spine, struck with the distinct feeling that, whether I like it or not, I’m in serious fucking trouble.
“Julia,” he tells me, jerking his head. “With me.”
“What?”
He locks eyes with me. “You heard me.”
I get the feeling that arguing with him is only going to make a bad situation worse, so I do as I’m told, stepping out of the corridor, and he pulls the door shut behind me.
We’re standing in the entrance foyer now, and he guides me away from the guards, where several statues line the hallway, watching us with their blank, unseeing eyes.
“You were trying to get out.”
“I was just trying to—”
“I have cameras, you know. Audio feed. I heard what you were saying to him.”
I roll my eyes skyward. “Jesus, I can’t have any privacy in this house?”
“Not when this is what you do with it.”
I snort with frustration. I was so, so close to getting out, only for him to come busting in here, acting like he has any right to tell me how things are going to be.
“I just wanted to get to the garden for a few minutes,” I retort sharply. “Paulo was going to take me. Not like I was sneaking off alone, or anything—”
“You don’t have to,” Antonio replies. “You leave this house, and someone could grab you. Overpower Paulo and snatch you up. It’d be over before you knew it.” His words are calculated, dripping with a coldness that makes me shudder.
“You really think people are watching the house like that?”
“I don’t know,” he replies bluntly. “But I’m not willing to put you in danger to find out.”
Anger flares in me once again. There he goes, telling me that all of this is for my own good, acting as if I don’t understand a damn thing.
“Look, I understand the risks I’m taking,” I tell him. “So I’m not going to hold you responsible if anything does happen, okay? I just need to get out of that room. I feel like I’m going crazy in there—”
“You need to stay right here.”
“Stop saying that,” I protest. “I—I’m the one who gets to make choices about my life, you hear me? It’s not about you. I—”
“You’re my wife. Of course it’s about me.”
I shake my head. “So you see me as your wife when it comes to controlling me, but not the rest of the time?” I shoot back, flippant. “That’s convenient—”
“I told you when we got married,” he tells me, his voice dropping precipitously as he closes the distance between us. “I’m doing this to keep you safe. And I’m not going to let some fucker take my wife from me. If they can take you, they’ll think they can take anything, and—”
“Oh, so I’m just another part of your property, is that it?” I demand, tossing my hands in the air. “Yeah, It’s starting to make sense to me now. You know, you’re just like Andreo—”
I stop myself when I see his eyes darken, sensing that I’ve overstepped. I wish at once that I could take it back.
Antonio’s gaze doesn’t break from mine for a moment, and he cocks his head slightly. “Just like Andreo?”
“I didn’t mean it—”
“In what way?”
I swallow hard. Well, if he wants to know the answer to that question, then he should be prepared to hear it, right?
“You—you want to control me just like he did,” I reply, my voice trembling, willing myself to keep a handle on myself.
But with the way he’s looking at me, it feels almost impossible.
My voice is shaking, and I ball my hands into fists to keep from letting him see how freaked I am, how tense every muscle in my body feels right now.
“He controlled you?”
“He didn’t tell you?” I retort. “He told me to quit my job. Moved me in with him in a few weeks. Got me living under his roof and then starting bringing in all these rules about who I could see and spend time with, what I could do, where I could go.” I gesture around pointedly. “Seems kind of familiar, huh?”
He doesn’t reply. I can tell that I’ve gotten under his skin, though I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad one.
I’m still trying to get a handle on that aspect of Antonio, what it means to set him off like this.
I’m sure it could bring the walls crashing in around me with even more intensity than before, but I’m willing to spill it all to him if it means he’ll come to see that I am not just some prisoner he can keep locked away with no pushback.
“Anyway,” I finish up. “I should get back to my room. Since I’m not safe anywhere else, right?”
And with that, I turn on my heel, stalking off toward the corridor.
I don’t even make eye contact with Paulo, who lowers his gaze to the floor as I pass.
Every move I make, I’m being watched. I fire a look at the security camera staring down at me, narrowing my eyes at it as though it will make any difference.
I’m going to have to come up with a much better plan than that if I want to make it out of here once and for all.