She smiled. “The same way we communicate right now. Through letters.”
12
Philippa
Five in the morning was the earliest I’d been up in a really long time. Especially after I started sneaking to Gianni’s room most nights, I was sleeping in until nine or ten, when I finally had to jump out of bed before Alegna walked in and saw me laying there. It was less about the fact that she would know what we were doing, because I was certain she already had an inkling, and more about the fact that if she saw I wasn’t working yet for the day by ten in the morning, she’d rip me a new one.
But Gianni was gone now.
It’d been about a week since the first step of Angelo’s coup took place, and the house was in an uproar. The Bonifacio siblings had been captured and dragged back to the Cavetti’s estate, and apart from Lucia who was kept locked in one of the guest rooms, the rest of them were being kept in the basement, and given that no one was allowed to go down there to clean for any reason, I imagined it wasn’t in good conditions.
Even Alegna was still in bed as I quietly slipped into the staff bathroom for a quick shower, then I got dressed and made my way down into the kitchen. It made my heart hurt that I wasn’t collecting supplies to clean Gianni’s room or making him his morning coffee. I missed him so much my heart hurt, but there was the promise of a letter driving stakes through my heart that, hopefully, I’d have before the day was over.
“Philippa?” Maestro, one of the house’s lower guards, walked into the kitchen and furrowed his brow in confusion at me. “You’re never up this early. Have you been reassigned?”
“Not formally, but I’m hoping that I can be,” I replied. “My former job was to serve Gianni, so…”
“Ah,” Maestro responded. “How are you doing? I know you two were… close.”
Thanks to Angelo, nearly the entire house believed that the reason I was serving him directly was so that I could be his plaything. The fact that I never showed any disgust with the circumstances led most people to believe I’d developed a strange form of Stockholm Syndrome. None of them understood the real relationship that Gianni and I had, which I was perfectly fine with. I wanted that to be something special to us anyway.
“It’s hard,” I said, and I wasn’t lying. Not having Gianni around did feel like I’d lost him in a way. “I feel lost now.”
Maestro was an older gentleman who’d been working for the Cavettis as long as I knew him. Though he probably could vie for a position higher up the food chain, he was a guy who liked the paycheck much more than he liked the work. He had a unique position within the staff that was as harmless as any position could be.
He ferried out of the house supply runs.
“Would you like some coffee?” I asked.
He shook his head, patting his belly. “Caffeine isn’t my friend these days. I’ll take a glass of water if you’re offering though.”
I nodded and turned around to walk over to one of the two industrial-sized refrigerators in the massive kitchen. I pulled out two bottles of water, one for Maestro and another for leverage in about five minutes. I handed one to him and kept the other grasped in my hands and waited.
He took a big gulp and then smiled at me. “You know, you’re young and smart. Youcouldmove up if you wanted. How observant you are, that’s something the guard could use. You could probably get a cushy post outside or something. Just enjoy the fresh air and stop cleaning every day.”
I had absolutely no intentions of doing anything for Angelo Cavetti other than cleaning his house. If I were at a lookout post and saw someone coming that I thought was going to kill him, I’d roll out a red carpet and unlock the front door. “I’m better at cleaning.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Not long after that, Alegna walked into the kitchen. She had her staff uniform on, along with a jacket to battle the chilly, Chicago autumn, and hunched her brow when she saw me. “What are you doing awake? You’re never up this early.”
I handed her the bottle of water with a smile. “I know. I was wondering if, now that Gianni is gone, could I be assigned to stock and supply. You’re always complaining about the cold, and I get out so rarely.”
Once a week, as the head of the cleaning staff, Alegna was allowed to leave with Maestro accompanying her. On top of being a psychotic, sadistic monster, Angelo Cavetti was also a miser and perversely paranoid. He made enemies everywhere he went, so it was no wonder why. Not only were direct house deliveries of groceries and supplies a really easy way to get something inside the house that he didn’t want, but it was more expensive than buying supplies from a big box store in person. That said, he didn’t trust a team of staff to go out and do it and sent Alegna to get all of the week’s groceries and supplies on her own across two different trips a week.
Gianni couldn’t give me his address, and we certainly couldn’t be in any other kind of contact while he was believed to be dead by his family. All we had was transferring letters, and the only way we could do it was through a communal, public place.
Like a supply store.
She scoffed at me. “I’m not so old that I need to pass the torch just yet, you brat.”
“I’m not saying that. You’ve paid your dues. Don’t waste your time wandering around a bulk supply store. Or maybe we could both go and I could at least cut down on the amount of work for you.” I touched her hand gently. “Please? I… I need a change.”
Alegna was a mother at heart and was able to read the sadness in my voice. She looked at Maestro and then back at me. “Let me go and get it approved.”
I bowed my head obediently. “Thank you, Alegna.”
She walked over to Maestro and leaned in to whisper something to him. I noticed that they drew a little closer to one another that I’d expect and suddenly felt I was interfering with something. Still, it was worth it for Gianni, and hopefully it was temporary regardless.
