Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“Was she okay with that? With marrying him?”
“It was very difficult to know what Teresa Russo thought or felt. She was kind and generous to the staff, but she kept to herself. She never said anything. Just did as Mr. Russo told her to do.” Her voice turns wistful. “I think it was her obedience that made the late Mr. Russo fall so deeply in love with her. She never contested him. Always treated him with consideration and respect. That’s how she wore him down and softened his rough edges. In the end, he did everything he did for her. He bought her this house and had it restored at great pains and costs. He showered her with clothes and jewelry and anything her heart could ever desire even though she never asked for anything.”
I grow quiet while listening to the story, trying to imagine how it must’ve been for Teresa to be an obedient wife who bent the knee to her husband. Did she feel victory at being rewarded with his love and wealth? Did she want the affection and gifts? Or did she have different dreams? Did those dreams fade? Did her hopes and plans fizzle out over the years like my mom’s until the house and her family became her ambition?
Heidi slaps her hands on her thighs. “Look at the time.” She pushes to her feet with another sigh. “I better get the laundry done. Are you sure you won’t eat a little more?”
“No, thank you,” I say, offering her a weak smile. I would’ve offered to help, but Heidi has her instructions. She needs to make sure I stay locked up in this room.
“Can I get you something from the library to read?” she asks, collecting the tray.
“That will be kind, thank you.”
She stacks the dishes and the untouched toast on the tray. “What kind of reading material do you prefer?”
“Can you get me some recipe books?”
She does a double take.
“I know.” I laugh. “Seeing that I’m going to live alone, I better learn.”
Her face falls as I so bluntly state the truth, but there’s no denying it. Mr. Angelo Russo isn’t going to fall in love with me and give me everything my heart desires. This time round, the union isn’t going to turn into a fairytale, neither a wanted nor an unwanted one.
“I’ll bring you a few books,” she says, averting her gaze as she crosses the floor. She closes the door on my, “Thank you.”
Long after she’s gone, I still consider the story of Teresa and Santino. Was Teresa unspirited for not fighting back, or did she just fight cleverly? Or maybe she wanted to marry Santino. From what Heidi told me about Teresa’s family, she could’ve been happy to escape her circumstances. Whatever the case, her silent obedience won her favors. It won her the heart of her husband. Is that a lesson I could learn? Is that a strategy I should consider? Seeing that I can’t change my situation, I may as well stop fighting. It will be so much less tiring. To simply not care. To keep to myself. To give Angelo his due and hide the rest deep down inside me. Because one thing is for sure, if I keep on expending energy on battles I can’t win, there will be nothing left of me in the end. Nothing for me. He wants to reduce me to less than the dirt under his shoes. He made that clear when he banished me and told me with a cruel smile on his sensual lips that I’m not worthy of uttering his name. Unless he commands me to say it. Unless I come.
So, I make a decision.
I’ll give him obedience. I’ll give him my body.
I’ll pay that price.
But I’ll never give him my heart or a child.
And for as long as I live, I’ll never speak his name again.
Chapter
Eight
Angelo
* * *
The cliffs that carry the big house with its towers and ramparts like a model castle on a pedestal grow smaller in the distance as the yacht speeds across the sea. I stand on the deck in the glacier wind, imagining the cliffs on the other side of the property, the ones that aren’t visible from here. The ones that are now the official home of my wife.
Unable to resist the urge, I check my phone again. Except for Heidi’s message to say Sabella didn’t eat much at breakfast, there’s nothing new. Locked in her room, my wife’s activities are limited. Reading or watching television are the extent of her entertainment.
My mother would’ve been appalled. I’m glad she’s not here to see how I’m forced to treat my wife. Sabella only has herself to blame for the unfortunate need to keep her behind lock and key. There are too many documents and files in my study, too much she can get her hands on. The most sensitive information is locked in the vault, but it’s impossible to move everything into the fireproof room. Besides, I’m not going to rearrange my whole house and the way I work just because my wife can’t be trusted.