Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“We’re fine.” I’ll be upping the count today.
“Are you sure? I’d hate for one of your houses to be attacked. You don’t want rats.”
His words rattle me, but I’m careful not to show it. “Goodbye, Uncle.”
“Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I want to be sure my sister is well guarded, considering her mental state. Goodbye, boys.”
32
Vittoria
It takes me all of ten minutes to pack. I hate that I have to leave Emma now, but I know I must be present at the reading of the will. It’s a requirement. At least I won’t be gone long. I wonder about my strange conversation with Bastian. What he was suggesting about Emma.
I want to see Lucien, too. Talk to him. Find out why he didn’t send more men after me when I was taken. Find out other things. About Dad. About what Amadeo and Bastian accused him of.
I watch clouds roll in over the sea, listening to the sound of rain falling softly at first, then more powerfully. It’s so beautiful and strange, this change that comes over sea and sky. But there’s something else too. Some sensation lingering. I feel it at my core, this ominous thing hovering like the dark clouds that hang over the sea, the storm wreaking its havoc.
I am served lunch and dinner in my room. I don’t mind, although I expected the brothers back sooner. But no one tells me when Amadeo or Bastian will return.
It’s a few hours after dinner when I hear a commotion outside of my room. The lock turns, and I’m on my feet, anxious to go, to get this done, and simply nervous. The storm has shaken me. Maybe it’s the aloneness. I’m expecting Amadeo, but when the door opens, it’s not Amadeo I see or the oaf tasked with guarding my door. It’s another man, one who doesn’t look at all familiar but gives off an energy of such malice that it takes all I have not to shrink away.
The man enters but doesn’t close the door behind him as he stands, openly looking me over. I’m dressed in a simple navy mourning dress I’d brought with me. I would have worn it for the flight home. I will now. I fold my arms across my chest as much in an effort to shield myself as to appear stronger than I’m feeling.
“The princess in the tower,” he says, and when he steps toward me, I get that creepy feeling I had when I first saw Sonny Caballero from across the room at the restaurant. That eerie sensation of something wicked, something wrong touching you.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Nobody. Come.”
“Where is Amadeo?”
“Downstairs. He sent me to get you.”
“He’s home then?”
He nods. “I was told to bring you. Let’s go.” He stalks across the room and takes my arm. I manage to slip out of his grasp.
“I’m coming. Don’t touch me.”
He snorts.
Why would Amadeo send this man to get me? His soldiers aren’t friendly toward me, not even close, but this one, he’s different. But it’s a stupid question I’m asking. Why wouldn’t Amadeo send him is the better one, the more apt one.
He wasn’t terrible to me last night. Still, I have to remember he is making a point of choosing between his brother and me, and he’s very clearly choosing Bastian as he should, really.
Maybe this is a show for Bastian. Or maybe it’s to put me back in my place. To remind me and possibly himself that we aren’t on the same side. He may not have beaten me, but he has kept me a prisoner. Blackmailed me into marriage. Bringing Emma just gives him one more bargaining chip. We’re both collateral damage, not human beings, as far as he’s concerned. He was very clear about that.
The soldier leads me down the hall and to the stairs. I notice how quiet the house is. How dark.
“Down,” the soldier says when we reach the stairs.
I look back at him. Something isn’t right. The house is too quiet. Where are the soldiers he usually has stationed around the house?
“Where is my husband?” I force myself to use the term to assert my position, but he just looks at me with flat, empty eyes.
“He’s waiting for you and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting. Move.” He gives me a nudge, and I grip the banister so I don’t go tumbling down the stairs. Once we’re on the first-floor landing, I see the living and dining rooms are dark, too. But I feel a vibration beneath my feet. A beat. Music?
I turn back to the guard, who gestures down a dimly lit corridor.
“No. Tell Amadeo to come get me,” I tell him, unsure why because he won’t. But something tells me not to go with this man.
“That’s not how this works, princess,” he says with a sneer before taking my arm and forcing me down the hallway toward the door at the very end, where I can now hear music, but it’s nothing I’ve heard Amadeo or Bastian listen to. I can see the light under the door, and I smell cigarette smoke as we near it.