Chapter 5
FIVE
Lucia
I slip out of the evening dress, pull on jeans and a T-shirt. After wiping off my makeup, I sit on the edge of the bed, the small jewelry box in my lap.
I stare at it, turning it over between my fingers. I have to admit, when I first saw him tonight, my heart dropped for a second. All I could think about was whether last night was written all over our faces, especially with the way Tony looked at me. I had no idea if he remembered what happened.
But now I know. He doesn’t.
He doesn’t remember the pain he forced on me. He doesn’t remember signing my death sentence. The alcohol wiped it all away.
I flip open the box. Inside is a necklace, his “gift” to me. A delicate gold chain with two wings forming the shape of a heart. I pick it up, holding it between my fingers, and study it closely as something heavy settles in my chest.
For some reason, it makes me think of my mother.
She was like an angel, gentle, kind, everything good in the world. I lost her last year after a long, grueling illness. It was her death that made Carlo give me one more year to prepare for this marriage.
The door opens, and I instinctively clench the necklace in my fist.
Carlo enters, a glass of liquor in his hand, and shuts the door behind him. Without sparing me a glance, he crosses the room and drops onto the loveseat, then snaps his fingers at me.
“Come here. We need to talk.”
My hands go cold. I’m so on edge that I obey without hesitation, springing to my feet and sitting beside him.
He’s wearing a tight black T-shirt. The light catches the smooth silver of his shaven head, and his features are as emotionless as ever.
I drop my gaze, staring intently at the floral patterns on the carpet.
“When I’m speaking to you, you look at me,” Carlo scolds me.
I raise my head to meet his eyes and force myself to respond, “Yes.”
“Good.”
He takes a slow sip of his drink and goes on.
“I’ll only say this once, so listen carefully. There are rules in this house, rules you’ll learn in time. But there are also rules that come directly from me, as your husband. You’ll commit them to memory tonight.
The first and most important rule: you’re not allowed to have any sort of relationship with Carmen.
Apart from meals, where we’re all at the same table, you will not see her.
Not during the day, not for any reason. She lives in the other wing, a place you have no reason to go.
And I guarantee, she won’t set foot in this wing either.
If she sends for you, for shopping, tea, or any other bullshit women call bonding, you will refuse. Your answer will always be an absolute no. Is that clear?”
I’m baffled, but I nod quickly. His glare is enough for me to rush to respond, “I understand.”
“Good. Next rule. Did you notice the blonde maid who served us tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Her name is Aida. From now on, the only food you eat in this house will come directly from her. You don’t touch anything else.”
What does that even mean? He talks like someone’s trying to kill me.
“Am I…in danger?”
“Not if you obey. No leaving without my say. No talking about us. No getting cozy with staff.”
He takes another slow sip from his glass, then extends the hand holding it, bringing it inches from my face as he threatens me.
“Break them, Lucia, and you’ll regret it. As my wife, I expect obedience. Full compliance.”
Wife.
The word makes me laugh inside. I’m not a wife, I’m a sheep in his herd, kept here to eat, sleep, and eventually breed. That’s all I am here.
“Don’t worry. I’ll remember,” I say quietly.
That pulls a smirk out of him.
“I’m not worried. You should be. Something goes wrong, and you’re the one who pays for it.”
Of course, I’ll pay. I’ve been paying it my entire life; the cost of being born a woman in this world of crime.
He finishes the rest of his drink and places the empty glass on the table. Then he shifts, draping one arm over the back of the loveseat as he leans toward me. The sheer force of his presence gets to me, making my neck tense.
“As for other matters, I’m not expecting you to fulfill your wifely duties just yet.” His voice is almost casual now.
I stare at him blankly. His dark eyes gleam with amusement as he makes it clear.
“I’m not fucking you yet.”
My cheeks burn, and I drop my gaze immediately.
My reaction makes him chuckle. “I’ll come to you when it’s time.”
A faint ray of hope stirs within me. It seems he doesn’t want to touch me anytime soon. The reason isn’t important to me. I don’t even care if he finds me unattractive. Every day he delays is another day I get to breathe.
“Don’t you want to know why?” His voice carries a teasing edge, the kind that thrives on making me squirm.
“No, sir.”
“Don’t call me ‘sir.’ Use my name. I don’t want anyone prying into our relationship.”
I nod quickly. “I won’t tell anyone anything.”
“You better do that.”
He glances around the room, as though inspecting it, before coolly announcing, “That’s all.”
“Can I ask you for something?” I rush out before he can stand.
He lifts his chin and waits.
“Can I visit my grandmother once a week and stay with her overnight? She’s lonely, and I’m the only one who checks on her.”
“The junkie?”
His blunt response leaves me speechless.
My grandmother has endured a lifetime of pain, married to a man who didn’t love her, a man who beat her constantly.
Her sons are criminals who barely acknowledge her, and her only daughter, my mother, passed away last year after suffering through her own abusive marriage to my father.
Now, after surviving so much, she turns to substances to dull her pain, both physical and emotional. And because of that, everyone reduces her to a single word, junkie.
When I don’t answer right away, he moves on. “I’ll allow it. I’ll assign a bodyguard to take you there and bring you back. On the days you’re with her, no visitors. Not her sons, not even your brothers.”
I can barely hide my relief. “I understand. Thank you.”
He dips his head in acknowledgment before rising to his full height. His towering frame casts a shadow over me, and his gaze sweeps over my body before settling on my hand.
It’s only then I realize I’m still clutching Tony’s necklace like an idiot.
He extends his hand, and without hesitation, I place the chain in his palm.
“Tony’s gift?”
“Yes.”
He drops the necklace to the floor. Without hesitation, his boot comes down on it, grinding the delicate wings into the carpet with several slow, deliberate stomps.
Then, without a word, he turns and leaves the room, his calm, composed demeanor completely intact, like nothing had happened.