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Screw it. I’m not going to just stand in this spot looking longingly out at something I can’t have right now. I put my tea down on the kitchen island then start to wander the main floor of the house. So far, I’ve spent most of my time here upstairs in the bedrooms, or down here in the kitchen and living area. But there’s got to be a whole lot more to discover considering how freaking huge this place is.
I go through the kitchen to a narrow hallway on the other side I’ve never walked down before. It branches off in a couple of directions. I choose right and keep walking, aware of Robbie following close behind, monitoring my every movement.
I gasp when the hall suddenly opens into a vast, glittering space. It’s so bright in here that I have to squint and shield my eyes for a second. How many lights are on in here?!
But as my eyes adjust to the exquisite luminescence of the space, I realize that there isn’t a single light on at all. Instead, almost this entire room is comprised of glass. It’s a rectangular prism that juts out from the house, and three out of its four walls, plus the ceiling above, are completely transparent. The sun absolutely drenches the room, and me, and it bounces right back off the floor because it’s not a floor at all, but water.
It's an indoor pool. A fucking big one, too. A giant, pristine rectangle of aquamarine blue. Beyond the pool is a smaller circle of water that looks like it has jets and benches built into it. Against the longest glass outer wall, looking like they’re backed right up against a drift of snow, is a row of chaises longues with pillows and towels arranged neatly on top of them. The tile of the floor in here is a rich, warm colour that speaks of terracotta, or maybe water-darkened sand. That plus the turquoise of the water and the blinding blue above makes me feel like I’ve stepped into some Mediterranean paradise. I lick my lips, not realizing how much I’d been craving sun and summer until now. Warm weather is always such a relief after long Ontario winters, especially for me, because that sunshine and heat makes me feel like I’ve clawed my way out of the cold, dark time surrounding the anniversary of my mother’s death. In spring and summer, everything comes back to life. Including me.
I walk along the edge of the pool towards doors on the far side of this glorious room. One door leads into a large closet with what I assume are chemicals for the pool and hot tub, plus extra towels and cushions for the chairs. The other door opens into a huge, luxury change room, the kind you’d see at a massive hotel. There are spa-like showers in there, another closed door for a private toilet, marble sinks, as well as cedar benches and hooks with fluffy white robes hanging on them.
I turn around and shut the door, narrowly avoiding smacking into Robbie’s chest.
“You don’t need to follow so close behind me,” I grumble. “I promise I’m not going to go in the cleaning closet and drink a bunch of bleach.”
His face goes a little pale, and then it looks like he’s making a mental note, and I realize with a roll of my eyes that the next time I come here I’m pretty sure all the chemicals are going to be locked up somewhere where I can’t access them. I already told Elio I had no interest in dying just to escape him, but his men don’t know that. And I wouldn’t put it past Elio to think that this whole we’re getting married thing has thrown me over some kind of mental edge I won’t be able to pull myself back from.
Which, I mean, it kind of has. He’s changed the game on me again, and I’m struggling to find my footing, that’s for sure. But things aren’t so dire I’m planning to swallow a bunch of toxic pool-cleaning chemicals over it.
I don’t bother explaining any of that to the mafia soldier assigned to babysit me. Instead, I just go back the way we came, through the kitchen to the central area of the house. There’s another door I haven’t gone through and I approach it. Robbie seems to get a little stiff when I reach for the door handle.
“What? Am I not allowed in here?”
“That’s Mr. Titone’s office,” Robbie replies.
“OK. That doesn’t actually answer my question.”
“Well… He said you’re allowed anywhere in the house.”
He still seems uncomfortable, though. I eye him closely, then pull back.
“Let me guess,” I say. “I’m allowed in here. But you aren’t.”
His mouth thins into a hard line, and I know I’m right.
“Well, you just stay here, then!” I say, unable to contain my grin. It’s probably petty and childish, but I don’t care. I yank open the door, practically skip inside, then slam it closed.
One glance tells me there’s a security camera in the ceiling here. Since it isn’t one of the bedrooms, I know Elio’s security team will have access to this feed. Even without Robbie in here with me, I’m still being watched.
Well, it’s not like I plan on trashing the place or smashing a window for an escape attempt or something. I’m just exploring.
I survey the office. It’s lovely, which I find both interesting and irritating. I know Valentina arranged the gorgeous décor for my bedroom, but everything in here just screams Elio, and I feel like he must have chosen everything himself. The furniture is large, the desk a dark wooden one with clean, masculine lines. There are bookshelves along the walls, a door that leads into a small adjoining bathroom, and a floor-to-ceiling window that looks out on the back of the property. The bright sunlight filtering in makes everything feel bright and warm, like it might actually just be a normal office instead of the workspace belonging to a mob boss.
I wander past the desk with its computer and drawers and scope out the shelves of books. There are a lot of books on law, which I find darkly ironic. Studying up to best figure out how to circumvent them, Elio? There are also books on local history, politics, industry, trade. But those end abruptly, turning into something I’m familiar with from the upstairs. Books on violin. Loads of them, stuffed into the shelves.
Just how many books on music and violins did he buy before I came to be here? He was watching me since I was eighteen, so presumably he’d have had more than a year and a half to collect all this stuff, but still. It feels wildly excessive, but then again, what about Elio isn’t?
I sigh, moving away from the books. This time, I cross the room behind his desk instead of in front of it. His computer screen is dark, but with a flutter of nerves in my belly I jiggle the mouse until the screen lights up.
It asks for a password, of course. Even a normal person’s computer asks for a password, let alone a member of the goddamn mafia.
I don’t even know what I’m looking for anyway. In fact, anything I find on there is probably just going to make me angry. I want to learn more about Elio… But is that really what I want when what I will uncover will probably just reveal more and more of the monster he truly is?
Not that I think he cares about hiding anything like that from me. He told me he was a monster my very first night here.
I’m about to turn away from the computer, but there’s something niggling in me that doesn’t let me. Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I take a wild stab in the dark, typing in the password box.
My mouth falls open when the computer unlocks. I got it right on my first fucking guess.
