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I’m so fucked.
16
Matteo
I loosen my tie.
After I dropped Sienna off, I returned to the guest house. Asked Vito to keep an eye on her while I came here, cowardly, for some refuge. I couldn’t be around her when she interacted with her future family. The idea grosses me out.
What kind of freedom will I have if she’s trapped in this doomed marriage?
Fuck.
I go to the wet bar, grab a bottle of expensive scotch, and open it. Pouting a generous amount in a tumbler, I down it quicker than ever. A burning sensation rolls down my throat, and I take another shot, desperately wanting to numb this horrible feeling taking flight in my chest.
Being here without her feels empty.
I go to her bedroom, and the minute I enter, her scent welcomes me, still lingering in the air. I take a deep breath, then look around. Stalking her room when she’s not even in it. How far have I fallen?
I touch the furniture as if it could teleport her here from that dreadful dinner. Why am I so fucking worried? The dinner is nothing compared to a life married to a son of a bitch like Francesco Caruso. I don’t know much about him, but he’s part of that family, and that’s all the info anyone needs.
I touch the blue bear she brought from New York, and a smile pulls at my lips. Then, I notice another one by it. Is this one from her childhood too? I lift it from the dresser, touching the texture. Unlike the other one, this weighs on my hand.
They’re about the same size and width, but this one… I hold it and shake it, and a noise catches my attention. Something clinks inside, similar to metal-on-metal friction.
I shake it and cement my worries.
Something is inside. But what? Did Antonio suspect our relationship and install a small camera in the damn thing? No. Cameras are compact and silent. Not this heavy.
I notice the tiniest bit of fuzz coming out of the back, and as I pull it, I see a few threads showing, like someone tried to sew it closed.
I pull it apart and open it. Then, I see a velvety bag. Inside, a handful of sparkling jewels greet me.Holy shit.
My gut contracts like it’s been hit. She’s been keeping a secret from me.
17
Sienna
“Dad.”I turn to my father after the guests have just left.
We’re both at the front of the house minutes after the limo has left our property. Vito, his bodyguard, stands a few feet behind us. Waiting to take me back to the guest house.
My father leans closer. “Yes,piccolina?”
“You’re really marrying me to a man who has sexually assaulted a woman?” I know I shouldn’t talk about this. But a small part of me rebels against common sense. How can he marry me off to the worst type of man? Is this a way to go against anything my mom would have wanted and punish her in death as well? Nothing makes sense.
He coughs. “Nothing has been proven. They were just allegations, and she settled.”
I shake my head, a cold wave of disappointment moving across my chest. “And that’s enough for you? Have you set the bar so low that marrying me to a rapist is fine?”
“It’s not fine. He won’t do it to you.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Though I should, shouldn’t I? You’re responsible for Mom’s death. Why wouldn’t you be for mine?”
“Sienna,” he says in a raspy voice. “Your mother?—”
“Fell for someone and wanted to leave you. She had to die to leave. And from your behavior, you don’t care about what’ll happen to me either,” I say, shaking my head. I don’t bother with listening anymore and leave.
