“Could you put them on so I can see if they fit?”
I took the clothes into the bathroom with me and put them down on the rim of the tub. I peeled out of my clothes, laying them down on the floor, like I had to put down the life I had built. What was Flavia doing? She must be worried sick by now. And what about Luciano? Nobody would watch him now. Despite my reluctance, I changed into the first dress, the floor-length one. Surprise washed over me. It fit nearly perfectly. I emerged from the bathroom, and the seamstress immediately set to work, rounding me and touching the fabric at my backwhere the dress was slightly too big. “Once I have more clothes for you to wear, I’ll take this in, so it fits perfectly.”
“How did you know my measurements?” I asked.
“Mr. Romano guessed them, and he did a very good job.”
I sank my teeth into my lower lip. “How long have you been working for him?”
“For a year. I do all of his clothes.”
I regarded her as she tugged at the hem of my dress, which ended about an inch below my ankle, brushing the floor. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was more than his seamstress. Nestore’s words about how he’d slept with other women cut through me like a sharp knife. Maybe my jealousy was hypocritical, considering I had left him. I couldn’t expect him not to move on. Yet I hadn’t. Nestore had always been with me, even when I’d been thousands of miles away. I had kept my firsts. I wished he had too. I shoved those thoughts aside and focused on Francoise.
All three dresses fit me well enough to wear in the following days. The material was a soft cotton-silk mix that flattered my body. I didn’t usually wear white, but apart from that, the pieces would have been to my liking if Nestore hadn’t forced them on me.
Francoise took my measurements after that. “Please pick the fabrics you prefer, then I’ll be done for today.”
I picked a handful of white- and cream-colored fabrics, then Francoise handed me a small bag with new underwear and tights before she left.
I took a quick shower before putting on the long dress and tights, since it was quite cold for an early spring day in Los Angeles.
I braided my long hair and let it trail down across my left shoulder, so the tips brushed my breast, then I moved toward the door. I was hungry. It was in the early afternoon, as I hadslept through the morning. Stepping out into the hallway, I felt overcome with uncertainty. I knew this place and where the kitchen was, but my surroundings felt hostile in a way I couldn’t put into words. The dark floral wallpaper seemed to swallow the light filtering through the half-closed drapes at the end of the corridor.
A shadow moved at the end of the hallway, spiking my pulse in fear. Nestore’s tall form appeared, as if he’d materialized from the shadows. Had he been watching my room?
He wore black pants, a shiny black belt, and a black fur coat, but no shoes or shirt. My breath stuttered in my chest as he moved closer. His body was ripped, with a six-pack that made my mouth water embarrassingly, but my eyes began to linger on the many scars and worst of all, the brand in the shape of an L over his sternum that my father had burned into Nestore as a sign of his ownership.
Nestore stopped in front of me, his eyes taking me in from head to toe. “The dress fits you perfectly.”
“Why white?”
He brushed his fingertips across my cheek like a ghost touch. “Because you spent too much time in darkness, and because being bound to me, part of your life will always be shrouded in shadows.”
I sighed. I wanted to argue with him that it didn’t have to be like that. He, too, could step out of the shadows, but I knew he didn’t want to hear it, and worse, I wasn’t entirely sure if it was true. “Why didn’t you have my father’s brand removed?”
Nestore’s eyes flared with pain, then he peered down at the L on his chest. “Because, Amelia, it no longer stands for your father’s ownership of me. You put your brand on my heart, so that’s why the L shall remain.”
I swallowed my rising emotions. When he said things like that, I wanted to believe his plans for me were only kind, but theflickers of menace in his eyes told me a war was raging in his body. I reached for the burn scar, but Nestore caught my wrist before my fingertips could touch his skin. “If we marry, I won’t be a Lamorgese for much longer.”
His smirk came quickly. “When, not if. And by blood, you’ll always be a Lamorgese even when my last name is yours.”
“Did you kill him?” I asked quietly. In the past two years, I had sometimes wondered about my father’s fate—not out of love or pity but simply because I wanted that chapter of my life to be over for good.
He stepped back, and his jaw clenched, eyes turning cold. He motioned for me to go ahead. “You must be hungry. Tonight, we’ll have entertainment, so I want you well-fed and fit.”
“What kind of entertainment?” I whispered. Something about his eager undertone set my teeth on edge.
“Wait and see.”
Nestore picked me up at six sharp from my room. I had prepared myself for the moment I’d open the door to Nestore’s harsh face, but I couldn’t prepare myself for what I saw on his head. A crown made from human fingers topped his head.
My fingers around the door handle tightened as I fought for composure. Nestore’s keen gaze locked on my face, waiting for a reaction that I had no intention of giving him. I wouldn’t become part of his game.
He scanned me from head to toe. “I knew you’d be gorgeous in white.”
I wore the long dress because the evenings were cold, and it turned out to be a good choice when Nestore led me out intothe gardens. The sweet, floral scent of millions of blooming roses carried over to me as we strolled along the paved path, even before we reached the trellises or the maze. Nestore held my hand in a tight grip as he pulled me along. He refused to tell me what kind of spectacle awaited us. My skin crawled when I considered the options.
We walked past the maze to the farthest part of the premises, where the sports center used to be.
