Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 42
ELLA
Was that a freaking helicopter that just landed on the lawn?
Didn’t movie villains always arrive in ominous black helicopters?
Zipping up the back of my borrowed, off-the-shoulder, Sarra Porcelain Flower Ralph Loren dress, I dug through my purse looking for my phone. I had placed it on silent/vibrate last night so no one would know if I had received a text or phone call from Antonia during dinner but me.
It wasn’t in my purse.
My heart raced. Had Matteo taken it? I dumped my purse out to double-check. There wasn’t anything incriminating on the phone per se, but there were the multiple calls from Fino and all my calls to Antonia.
That was when I remembered, I left it in the library. I had stashed it there right before meeting with Fino because I wanted it close.
After listening at the top of the main staircase for signs of life, I crept down the stairs and tiptoed down the hallway to the library. So far, the villa was quiet. With all the animated talk about clearing away brush, fixing machinery, and approving wine label graphics at dinner last night, it was more than likely they were all at work.
Although I considered myself a disciplined person when it came to practicing my cello, being forbidden to work by my father had led to the rather lazy habit of sleeping in late. I consoled myself with the fact that I usually rose by ten a.m. compared to my sister who never showed her face before noon.
Despite that, I was exhausted and… rattled.
Last night with Matteo was… different.
Between his domineering and kinky ways and my pretending I was my sister, in a way, I had been able to disassociate myself during our escapades. I was free to respond and take pleasure in things that should have shocked me to the core, because it was me, but it wasn’t me. Like putting on a costume and pretending just for a little while that I was this desirable, sexually promiscuous wanton.
And even when we had sex for the first time, there was still an atmosphere of high emotion and anger and pent-up passion that made it frenzied and almost chaotic.
But last night…
Last night was quiet and… intimate.
There was no hiding behind a mask. Funny how we first met at a masquerade and how, up until last night, I had kept that facade like body armor.
But last night…
There was no hiding. I’d been scared and vulnerable. Naked in every sense of the word.
The comforting strength of his powerful arms as they held me tight until I fell asleep with him still inside of me was borderline a religious experience. It was as if I transcended all the chaos around me. As if he had lifted me out of my body and mind to place me safely in the clouds.
It was fanciful nonsense of course, but I couldn’t help wondering if that was what love was supposed to feel like. As if he had me safely curled up in the shelter of his palm and nothing or no one could hurt me.
Then with the glaring light of the morning sun, reality crashed me back to earth.
My head swiveled from left to right, then left again, triple-checking that the coast was clear before I ducked into the library. I went straight to a far shelf where I had wedged my phone between an English copy of Bonfire of the Vanities and La Divine Commedia.
How prophetic of me.
The screen glowed in the dim room as I checked my text and voice messages.
Nothing.
Damn her.
I pressed Antonia’s contact and was startled when she answered after only two rings, having once more been expecting to get her voicemail again.
“Hello?”
Nothing. Just the sound of rustling.
“Hello? Antonia? Are you there?”
More rustling.
My alarm rose. “Toni?”
“Ella, is that you?”
Her voice was strained and high-pitched. “It’s me. What’s going on?”
At first, she didn’t respond, there was just the sound of more rustling and her erratic breathing. “I’m in trouble, Ella.”
“Oh my God! Where are you? Toni, talk to me.”
This time there was a bang and a clatter as if she had dropped the phone. “What’s happening?”
In my agitation, I pulled my phone away and checked the screen as if it would suddenly switch to video or a map.
“Ella, you have to help me.”
“What’s going on? Is it Father? Does he know?”
“Ella, you have to— No! No! Please, we didn’t mean it! Please!”
“Toni? Who’s there with you? What’s happening?”
A piercing, bloodcurdling scream was my only answer.
Then the line went dead.
For several seconds I just stood there staring at my black phone screen, not able to fully take in what just happened. Then my body shook, my mouth opening on a scream.
Falling to my knees, I tried calling her over and over again, shouting into the dead phone line, “Toni? Toni! Oh my God! Oh my God!”