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“You’ve got to get me out of here,” I tell him, running over and tugging on his arm. “He’s locked me in here. He’s insane.”
He shakes his head. “I’m afraid I am not in charge of what happens in this house,” he says. “I have only come to take your measurements and to ask if you have any preferences for clothes or food.”
“You’re not listening,” I tell him. “Marco Donatello is keeping me prisoner here. You’ve got to call the cops for me. Get me out of here.”
“You can discuss all that with him later. For now, I need your measurements.” He lifts my hand from his arm before taking out a tape measure out of his jacket pocket. “If you would be so kind as to stick your arms out for me.”
“Oh God,” I groan aloud. “You’re not going to help me, are you? No one is going to help me.”
He lifts my arms out, running his tape measure along them as he does so. “Size ten,” he says, glancing down at my body. “Shoe size, six and a half. I can work with that. Any preference for colors?”
“I don’t care,” I tell him as he runs the tape measure down to the floor from the top of my head.
“Any dietary requirements?”
“Please,” I try again. “I’m begging you. Help me.”
He steps back, his expression turning cold. “I am helping you,” he says, rolling up his tape measure. “To the best of my ability, as my employment permits. I am to ensure you are comfortable during your stay. I am to provide clothes for you.”
“Please, I’m begging you to help me.
He lowers his voice. “The best way to get out of here is to do what he says.”
There’s a rattle in the lock. The door swings open a moment later. It’s the maid who let me into the house. “Your bath is ready,” she says. “You done, Giuseppe?”
“Pretty much.” He looks down at my chest. “I’d say a C cup. 34? Right?”
I glare at him, folding my arms to shield myself. “Anything else, Mr. Invasive?”
He shakes his head, turning and walking out, whispering something to Eva as he goes. She comes over to me, taking me by the arm, lowering me onto the bed. “Marco’s not all bad,” she says.
“I’m sure he isn’t. All kidnappers have hearts of gold, right?”
“Marco is a good man. He has always treated his employees well. He’s angry right now. He has a lot of grief to deal with and he tends to bottle things up. Not good at letting out his emotions. Got that from his father, God rest his soul. God rest all their souls.” She shakes her head. “It was tragic what happened. You just need to give him some time. His whole family has just died.”
“Is it true what he said? Did my father kill his family?”
“That’s not for me to speculate upon.”
“Is that why you’re keeping me here? I hardly know my father. We haven’t spoken for fifteen years. I don’t know him. He’s nothing to do with me. Whatever problems him and Marco have, I’m not involved.”
“Come on, before your bath gets cold.” She lifts me to my feet. I let her guide me out of the room, feeling dazed.
“Did he kill them?” I ask again as we cross the landing to the opposite room.
She leads me into an enormous bathroom; the air filled with steam. “Don’t mention it to Marco,” she says. “You’ll only make him angry. The towels are over there. I’ve laid out a selection of soaps for you to try. My personal recommendation is the bergamot. Very light for this time of day. Feel free to explore once you’re clean. Giuseppe will have an outfit ready for when you’re done.”
“Great.”
She squeezes my shoulder, ignoring my sarcasm. “It’ll be all right,” she says. “You can explore the house all you like apart from the attic. I left your sketchbook in the parlor for you. There’s a writing desk in there you can use.”
“Thanks,” I find myself saying automatically.
She pulls the bathroom door closed behind her. I bolt it shut, leaning back against it. I’m not going to take a bath. That would mean accepting that I’m staying when I’m not. There’s no way I’m staying here and accepting this insane situation. Marco hates me. I don’t even know how getting me pregnant works for him when he clearly despises me.
I slide the bolt back, peering into the corridor. There’s no one there.
I tiptoe out, glancing left and right. The front door was locked, but there must be another way out. I go back into the bathroom, crossing to the window. Locked on the inside and shutters on the outside.
