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The morning sun is warm, and the greenery around the mansion looks much more alive out here than it does from my window. I take a deep breath, drinking in the smell of grapes and expelling the frustration along with the air soon after.
I look to the sides, back and decide to move forward. I only left the mansion twice, the first was on the Sunday of the fair, and the second, two nights ago, with Vittorio.
He said I couldn't leave the property without security, but he didn't say anything about me needing them to leave the castle either. It wouldn't make sense. Still, I haven't taken ten steps when one of the men the Don introduced me to shows up.
“Good morning, Miss.”
“Good morning.”
“Do you want to go somewhere?”
“I was thinking about going to the village. You don't have to go with me, right?”
“No. Only outside the gates.”
“Alright, thank you.” I say goodbye, and the man seems a little unsure about what to do.
Welcome to the club, friend. I've also never had a security guard before.
I walk towards the village, leaving him behind. It's not like I'm in danger or like I can run away.
The exit gate is literally in the opposite direction. Where I'm going, the most I could do is get lost or hide in the vineyards. My steps are slow. I want to take off my sandals and step onto the grass, but I stop myself. Rafaella was right, people are really commenting, and staring. Some are even pointing it out.
I continue my walk around the property as if nothing is bothering me, but there is one thing that is: Vittorio.
If I had any doubts that there was something wrong with me, they would have vanished the moment I walked into that restaurant. What kind of person feels their heart beat faster just because they've been invited to dinner?
What kind of person feels their heart beat faster just because they have been invited to dinner, even though they know that their company is not the reason for the invitation?
I have become useful. I have been repeating these words in my own head over and over because I am afraid of forgetting them. When Vittorio said we had an appointment, the day before yesterday morning, I didn't imagine dinner in a restaurant like that, nor the way it was.
Intimate.
I can't think of a word that defines it better than that. Vittorio seemed so approachable, so... There. He was there, literally, at the touch of my hands. Close, willing. He said little,but he listened to me. And he actually laughed. Exactly like he did the day I gave him the brigadeiros.
At no point did the Don seem bored or tell me he didn't want to listen anymore, he just sat there and listened to everything I had to say, even though most of what came out of my mouth wasn't interesting. It's likely that, to a man like him, nothing I said sounded interesting.
Thoughts fly around in my head like a flock of aimless birds. They revolve around themselves, but I don't give myself time to get attached to any of them as my feet crunch through grass, dirt, and cobblestones, walking aimlessly. I only realize that I've walked too far and that the buildings I can see from the windows have disappeared when the neighing of a horse takes me out of my thoughts.
I frown, Rafa told me that Vittorio breeds horses here, but she had no idea where the stables were. Today, it is not difficult to find one of them. In the middle of a circular white wooden enclosure is an animal with completely dark and shiny fur. The color is so deep that it almost looks like a portion of night has been poured over the animal.
I lean against a tree a few meters away and, hidden behind it, I look completely enchanted at him for so long until I hear the voice, loud and firm as always, and I realize that the horse is not alone. Vittorio is in the middle of the arena, and, for the first time, I see him outside of the traditional three-piece suit.
The Don wears tight pants and boots that go up to his knees. The usual white shirt covers his torso and there is a hat on his head, protecting him from the sun. The animal walks up to him after walking around the enclosure twice and leans, almost in a bow, and I smile. He doesn't just breed the horses, he trains them.
I should stop when my eyes take advantage of the distance to travel the man from top to bottom, stopping at every point they want without being afraid of being caught.
I remember the first time I saw Vittorio, how I wondered what his body would look like without all that clothing, because when he was dressed, he was almost like the absurdly muscular Superman from the movie Justice League.
I also remember feeling every fiber in my body being pulled toward him, while every living neuron in my head told me to do the exact opposite of that. With everything that came after, seeing beauty when looking at him simply took a backseat.
However, if sin had a form, it would be that of Vittorio Cataneo: seductive, consuming, lethal. And it only took one night in his distraction-free company for this realization to become the protagonist of the short list of things I know about the Don of Sagrada.
“Is this you trying to stay hidden?” Vittorio's voice sounds even louder when he turns towards me, taking me completely by surprise.
In an idiotic reflex, I look behind me for someone else, but there is no one. I don't need a mirror to know I turned red. Damn, Gabriella! I put my hands behind my back and take small steps towards the white pen.
“Good morning,” I greet when there are only a few steps left between the arena and me, wondering if it's a good idea to get closer. Will the horse be bothered? Will I invade his space if I do this? “He's so beautiful!”
