“No.” She shook her head. “What happened to your head?”
I had forgotten about the cut. I told her what had happened, and she went to tend to me, but I kept walking. “I have fucking phone calls to make,” I said.
I made the calls. First to Benedetto Dandolo to let him know what had happened. If an issue arose from this, there was no force in this world that would be able to stop me from stealing all of Flavio Capella’s extremities.
Then I made the main call.
“Are you sure you do not want to switch daughters?” Flavio asked seriously.
I hung up on him, and after Lev appeared in the villa, I instructed him to take the women back to Venice with a warning. I looked my wife’s sister in the eyes when I said this. If Capri, or any of her friends, ever even attempted to breach our property again without an invitation from my wife, woman or not, they would be returning to Venice in a box.
I told thefriend,the horse breeder, that I was married and uninterested. Then I went to take a shower to wash the stink of another woman off my skin.
Chapter 37
Sistine
Imight as well have been a prisoner. The Bridge of Sighs,Ponte dei Sospiri, came to mind. Every morning when the sun rose, and every evening when it fell, had me sighing.
Being kept inside for the duration with my family felt like torture. Before, the monotony was broken up by my work. Interacting with the outside world while also getting lost in the art of designing and creating jewelry for the Fausti family had kept me sane. Those times were punctuated by my visits to Wyoming. My father giving me a “vacation” while also keeping his thumb on me.
However, being kept inside, sequestered between these walls, without my husband…hell.
I kept reminding myself there was no other way. Time would pass, and we would be together again.
Honeymoon.
Luna di miele.
Only, it seemed as if time was out to haunt me. The hands on the clocks felt as if they barely moved. Each second felt like an eternity.
Even when I was working.
My father demanded that I work, but instead of allowing me outside of the palazzo, he brought my work home to me. He would speak to the client and take meticulous notes. If I had a question, he would relay it. I would design and complete the piece at the palazzo, since we had a room with all the equipment we used at the store, and he would take it back to the store, or have the men deliver it to wherever the piece was headed.
My father was almost…beatific about it all. I was stuck under his thumb, working almost nonstop.
Remo kept close to me. Wherever I went, except for the bathroom and in the bedroom after he checked the spaces, he went. My father did not like it, but it had been agreed upon, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Although I was keeping busy, I was awfully tired. I slept in late most of the time, and when I could find it in myself to get out of bed, I could not wait to get back in it. A few times Remo saw me to my room because I would start to doze at my desk.
It was the most blissful sleep. The only way I could describe it was…sleeping on a cloud. I wondered if heaven felt this way. Sign me up, if so. This was how amazing it was. It was sleeping on cool, fresh sheets, and the weather outside was warm and breezy.
Before Mariano, I always slept with clothes on, but after, they were nothing but a hindrance between his body and mine. He seemed to hate them. His reaction to them was almost addicting. I wore them only to feel him rip them away.
Almost as if they were an evil thing trying to keep me from him.
The thought made me grin and rub my bare legs against the sheets. My arms were chilled from being out, and I hunkered underneath the blankets, though I was enjoying the contrast between temperatures. It was winter, and though Venice winters were usually mild, I started to leave the doors cracked to thebalcony. I was warm without them being open. I felt as if a fire had started in the pit of my stomach, and internally, I was warmer than the temperature outside.
It was bliss…pure bliss, and after I thought of my husband, I fell back asleep.
I was not sure how long I was asleep, but the sound of rain manically tapping against the windows woke me.
No.
What had startled me awake was my mamma. She stood over me, her eyes narrowed.
“You will take her from me!” she whispered, but it was not kind. She grabbed me by the shoulders, pulled me up, and started to shake me.
