Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Happy to be home, Mama. Meet my wife, Elise.”
She gives Elise the same warm greeting she gave me. Elise kisses her warmly. “Thank you so much.”
“You two go up to your room and relax. Get freshened up if you need to, rest. We’ll have dinner promptly at six tonight. You hungry?”
“No, Mama, we ate in town.”
Mama winks at Marialena, then she turns to Elise. “My mother and I have been cooking up a storm. Later, Orlando can show you around The Castle.” She smiles. “The girls like the tour.”
Elise just nods her head, looking a bit stunned by everything. “Thank you.”
I take our bags and swing them over my shoulder, when I realize my mother’s eyes are focused on the collar of the white shirt I wear. The smile fades from her lips. “So soon, Orlando? You’ve been out less than a day, and so soon he has you doing your work?”
I look down to see drops of blood splattered on my collar. I won’t lie to her. “He didn’t get me out of prison early for a joyride, Mama.” I lower my voice and give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “We both know our family’s in trouble. It’s why I married that same night. You know that.”
Her lips pinch together, and she stares at the blood on my collar. “Go change, son. Put on clean clothes, will you?” Her eyes quickly go to Elise. “The one blessing of being married to a woman raised like you.” She sighs. “She won’t be scarred by what she sees.” Mama draws in a deep breath, then lets it out again. “Don’t mind me. I’m growing softer in my old age.” Her face melts into a soft, sad smile as she absentmindedly fingers the bare space on her finger where she once wore a wedding band.
Heavy footsteps approach, and Nonna fills the doorway. Shorter than all of us but pleasantly plump, Nonna’s the very picture of an Italian grandmother. “Orlando! Benvenuto a casa! E la tua sposa è bellissima. Un bambino, hmm?”
“Nonna!” Marialena scolds. Vittoria bursts out laughing.
I smile at Elise moments before I’m accosted by Nonna. “You know what she says?” Nonna nearly bowls me over.
Elise’s cheeks color. “My father doesn’t like us to speak Italian. I did catch something about being home and… a baby?”
“Get her upstairs,” Mama says, but her eyes are twinkling as she extricates Nonna from me. “Mama, leave them alone! My God, do you expect her to be pregnant on her wedding night? Give her a minute, will you?”
“Mama!” Now it’s Marialena’s turn to groan.
“Alright, alright, my pretty bride and I are going upstairs. We’ll see you all at dinner and I’ll give the tour then. Please reserve any more questions or comments until such time as I have a tall glass of wine in hand. And Nonna, tell me you made me my ravioli?”
Nonna’s eyes twinkle.
I take Elise by the hand and bring her upstairs. It’s hard to believe it’s been only a day since I was released from prison and even less time since I took her as my wife. Vittoria always says that my family is on speed. It’s the first time I really understand what she means.
CHAPTER 10
“Love's night is noon.” ~Twelfth Night, Shakespeare
“Elise”
I don't know what to make of the situation. I find myself almost liking Orlando, even after everything I’ve seen him do and say. I reason with myself that it’s because he’s so protective of me. He may hold me to high standards, but he’s always by my side, always making sure my needs are met, and the sex… He’s had me three times already, and I can tell he’s nowhere near sated.
Neither am I.
But I know I don’t belong here. I know that when he finds out who I am, it will be his duty to kill me. I know I have to escape before I’m in too deep.
Is it already too late?
His family’s eccentric and intense, I know that already from the brief meeting I’ve had with his brothers, sister, mother, and grandmother. But it’s a fierce kind of intensity I could grow to like.
I saw him do brutal things today. He fucked me in front of a prisoner, under the very real threat of removing the man’s eyes if he looked at me. That should scare me. I think it does. But not as much as it should.
I should have my head examined.
I’m frantic to get to my phone. I’m nervous about what he’ll find, and what he’ll say when he does. But most of all, I’m nervous about getting out of here alive before anyone discovers my true identity.
Orlando’s in the shower after stationing three guards outside our door. Even then, he’s left the door to the bathroom open so he can keep an eye on me himself. “We have cameras on every floor, trained on every room and window. The walls themselves would report to me, Elise,” he warned as he stripped out of his clothes.