Twelve
LIANA
Two hours—that’s how long I’ve been locked in my room, staring at the disgustingly bright white dress I picked out. Before that, I spent almost double that time browsing stores and boutiques, trying on various dresses that all looked the same. I mean, how does one choose the ‘perfect’ dress? They all look the same: a boring white, usually silk or tulle dress. The only difference is the sleeve length and neckline.
I settled on a slim, floor-length dress, lacking personality and flavour; it’s much like how the wedding will be. A tasteless dress for a tasteless wedding—it’s fitting if I do say so myself.
I zip up the white dress bag and close my closet doors, hiding it from sight and, hopefully, my thoughts, too. I’m not sure what to do with myself.
A part of me wants to stumble into Dario, longing to hear his voice again, but the other part of me hates that I want to be near him at all. It’s like a switch flipped inside me, and I don’t hate him anymore. Knowing that Gabriel has no intention of securing my safe return, made me see clearly enough to find a little bit of good in Dario that I didn’t think existed.
With a sigh, I stand up again and walk into my bathroom, turning on the shower. As the water warms to a comfortable temperature, I strip down and prepare my skin care products. I place them on the long vanity before checking the water with my hand and stepping in.
Compared to my hand, the water feels cold on my body, a shiver consumes me as my skin pricks with goosebumps. My back arches as I pull away from the water and swiftly turn the nozzle to the right, waiting to step back under it.
Reaching my hand out again, I test the water, another chill rolling through me. “What the fuck?” I mumble under my breath.
With a huff, I twist the knob, turning the water off, and step out, wrapping the towel around me and treading back into my room.
I pick up my phone from the nightstand, and send Dario a message:
Me: My shower isn't working. Any chance you could send someone to check it out?
Without hesitation on his end, I see the three little grey dots appear, followed by his response:
Dario: Sure. I’ll be there now.
I was half-expecting him to send someone to check it out. That would match up with his claims of being ‘too busy’ with organising whatever it was he was supposed to be busy with. Instead, he’s coming here himself.
I sit on my bed and wait, my half-wet hair trickling droplets of water onto my neck before the towel has a chance to soak up the beads. The feeling makes me uneasy. And with the chill in my room, it feels as though I’m stark naked on a snowy winter morning, creating snow angels while the freezing air bites at my skin.
After a minute or so of playing the waiting game, Dario finally strolls into my room, his phone glued to his ear. Taking one glance at me, he mumbles something before hanging up and pocketing it into his slacks.
“What’s wrong with your shower, Liana?” he asks, avoiding eye contact and directing himself to the bathroom.
Hopping up, I follow him. “I don’t know. The shower works, but it doesn’t stay warm. It’s hot for a few seconds, then it’s too cold to bear.”
He hums in response, sliding across one of the window-like doors to gain better access to the shower. Turning the knob, he waits a few seconds, his hand under the running water.
I watch him, his face contorting into confusion, frustration and all-around annoyance in a matter of a second before he turns it back off again. “I’ll call someone to sort this out and in the meantime, you can use mine.”
His words make me flinch on the inside, startling me. “I don’t—”
“I don’t mind sharing with you, Liana,” he says in a low tone. “It’s just a shower. And it looks like you’re ready for one.” His eyes flick down at my body and I swallow, my throat feeling as though it’s full of gravel.
I knew he’d see me in a towel, but the look in his eye as he glances at me is impossible to decipher. His lingering glare on my skin sends a hot flash through me, and I fold my arms across my body.
“I don’t want to impose on your personal space.”
“Before you know it, it’ll be your personal space too, Liana. Just take the damn shower, would you? You don’t need to be stubborn here.”
“Thank you,” I breathe, my lips pressing together, creating a thin line.
“Come on,” he says, walking towards me and gathering up everything I sat out next to the sink. “It works a little differently than yours; I’ll show you.”
He exits the bathroom and I follow, my legs unable to keep up with his long strides.
He enters his bedroom, but I pause outside the threshold. I don’t want to step inside. It feels weird, like I’m invading his privacy.
“Are you coming?” he asks, peering his head around the bathroom door frame.
He steps back into his room, his head tilting to the side. “What’s wrong, Liana?”
“I don’t like this,” I admit with a whisper.
“You don’t like what?” He steps forward, treading closer to me with slow, careful movements.
“I don’t like being here, in your room. It feels… weird.”
“You’re not in my room,” he says, sarcasm lacing his tone. “You’re outside it.” A soft laugh escapes me as I roll my eyes. “But I know what you mean. You’ll get used to it. We both will.”
I shake my head, releasing a shaky breath. “I won’t ever get used to this, Dario. Like you said, I’ll never be a part of your family. I’m the outcast here, the black sheep of this arrangement. My father doesn’t want me and neither do you. Where does that leave me, exactly?”
“Liana,” he says in a quiet voice, moving closer, “I didn’t mean it like that. I was stressed and you were the only person available to take it out on. While we’re married, you’ll always be a part of this family. My mother likes you more than she ever did Natalia, which means you’re stuck with us anyway. If we don’t work out, she will be there for you no matter what, as will everyone else, I guarantee it.”
“Natalia?” I ask, recoiling at the mention of her name.
He sighs, taking one step backward. “That’s a story for another time.”
I offer a brave face, walking past him into the bathroom. “I’ll figure out the shower,” I say, my hand on the side of the door. “I’ll go back to my room when I’m done.”
“Okay,” he replies with a nod of his head. “I’m only a message away if you need help with anything.” He waves his phone in the air before flashing his devilishly handsome smile and disappearing into the hall, closing the door behind him.
Finally, I close and lock the bathroom door, and release a pent-up breath of relief.
His face was enough for me to understand who Natalia was to him. She was me before me. I’m here to replace her. I’m a stand-in wife for the one he lost. What happened to her is unbeknownst to me, but whatever it was, I’m here to fill that hole now.
∞∞∞
After finishing up in the shower, I grab my things and return to my room, locking the door behind me.
I’ve never had such a depressing shower. Knowing I was washing myself where they could’ve showered together was disturbing. I’m her replacement, taking her rightful spot in his house, shower and family. I shouldn’t be here; she should. Wherever she is right now, she’s probably laughing, happy that she got out and that someone else—me—has taken her place in this fucked-up situation.
“Oh good, you’re done.” His voice startles me and I spin around to spot Dario sitting on the single lounge chair in the corner of the room. “We should talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I respond with a fake smile. “I appreciate the shower, though. Thank you for that.”
“Liana, you can’t run away from the things that make you uncomfortable. I don’t know how things worked at home for you, but here, we talk about our stress or discomfort without the added pressure of rejection. Mentioning Natalia clearly upset you—”
“I’m fine,” I interject. “Whoever you associated yourself with or were involved with before me should be none of my business—it is none of my business.”
“I have very few secrets, most of them people would kill to find out about, but Natalia? She’s not a secret. She’s a part of my past. So do it, Liana, ask me about her. Let me prove you can trust me.”
“I don’t need to know about the woman I’ve replaced,” I scoff. “Like I said, who you used to be with isn’t my concern. Your business isn’t my business.”
“You’re right, you did replace her,” he starts, ignoring me, “but she died. If you’re worried that she’ll come back—”
“You think I’m worried that some dead woman will come back and take my spot?” I practically laugh the words out. “Her death put me in this position. I don’t belong here, Dario. You know it, I know it—hell, everyone fucking knows it. This life isn’t for me. I’m not supposed to be here.”
“What’s wrong, Liana? You were stubborn and kept yourself from feeling anything but disgust for me at the beginning. Then, you changed and wanted to play the part, and now… I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it’s exhausting. I’m trying to help you and you’re pushing me away.”
“I don’t need you to help me, Dario… I need you to accept that sometimes, shit is difficult to come around to. This change hasn’t been easy and knowing that I’ve replaced a dead woman makes it all that much harder.” I take a minute to breathe and gather some sense of composure. “How did she die, huh? Was it natural causes or a freak accident? A family gene that went amiss for years? Or maybe, just maybe it was your fault. Did your enemies get to her because they couldn’t get to you? That sounds the most plausible.”
“That’s enough, Liana,” his volume increasing with each word, and hitting me like a thousand simultaneous needle pricks. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I need you to stop overthinking it. Putting distance between yourself and what’s expected of you won’t change anything. You’re a grown-ass woman, for fuck’s sake, act like it.”
With that, he storms past me and pulls at the door, the lock preventing it from opening. Instead of turning the lock, he yanks hard and forces the door open, slamming it behind him.
The sound sends a shiver down my spine, and my body flinches, instant regret flowing through me like a river.
I overstepped the boundaries by a fucking mile. Dragging that poor woman through the mud wasn’t the solution to my problem, but the second I said it, there was no backtracking. I have to own it, while the hatred of my own venom eats away at me.
Rubbing my face like it’ll refresh me, I quickly dry off and put on a fresh change of comfortable clothes before heading downstairs to grab a snack.
The halls feel quieter than usual. There’s nobody around wreaking havoc like there usually is. Remi’s probably busy in the soldiers’ house as per usual. Ciro’s back at his house off the compound. Maze is comforting Kat while nausea and cravings kick her ass. God knows where Silas and Cass are—I’m sure they’re trying to kill each other in the training house. And Red is most likely kissing Dario’s ass, still complaining how he’ll never have kids because of me. I’ve never been alone in a house of this size; there’s always at least one other person around. But I don’t hear anything.
I walk into the kitchen and grab a small snack from the fridge before pouring myself a glass of orange juice. Then, I return to the main hall. Only now can I hear the muffled voices from the right end of the hall, intriguing me, begging me to inch closer.
The closer I creep, the louder, more audible and distinctive, the voices become. Dario, Red and Vincent, are yelling back and forth, spouting profanities and spitting venom like it comes from the mouth of the snake itself. I can’t quite make out the topic of the conversation, but whatever it is has them all heated, all of them divided in their opinions and thoughts, most likely believing they’re the one in the right while the other two are significantly in the wrong. Either way, it sounds like a treacherous discussion, one I want no part in.
Retracing my steps, I make it only a few feet before Dario’s office door is yanked open. The loud voices flood out into the hall, followed by Vincent and a thunderous slam of the door as it closes again. As soon as his eyes meet mine, he pauses momentarily, composing himself by releasing a deep breath.
“Liana, did you need my son?” he asks, inching closer.
I shake my head. “No, I heard yelling. I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but I wanted to see if everything was okay.”
He smiles, walking closer. “Everything’s just fine, Lia, don’t worry. Dario’s got a lot on his plate right now and he’s taking it out on anyone within reach. For your own good, wait until tomorrow to see him. He’s nobody’s friend when he’s worked up like this.” Placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, he offers a soft rub of his thumb against my skin before leaving.
Doing as he says, I make my way back up to my room again, trying my best to ignore the incoherent voices from below. It’s like they’re calling to me, itching for me to be a part of it.
My house wasn’t easy to grow up in. My father would invite his business associates over, and they drank too much. The yelling isn’t something I’m a stranger to, and what I wouldn’t give to be a part of something, even an argument, to take the edge off for a second. But on the other hand, I’d rather not make Dario any more angry than I already have. That’s a line I’m not willing to cross yet. And definitely not when he’s already worked up like this.