I wander farther, past the lawn and sculptural desert plants, until I find it…a small garden tucked away behind a curved wall. Unlike the rest of the estate, this space feels lived-in. Herbs grow in terracotta pots. Flowers…real flowers, not the succulents that dot the rest of the property, bloom all around me. It’s beautiful. It reminds me of the garden behind our villa in Italy, where I used to hide with my books when Andre was in one of his moods or had guests. Before everything went wrong. Before Uncle Alessio took me away and sent me here…
I push the thought away, settling onto a stone bench partially shaded by a flowering vine. This book feels like the only real thing I have left, which is ironic, considering it’s a work of fiction. I crack it open, fingers trembling slightly, and try to lose myself in someone else's story.
Chapter Four
Liana
The sun moves slowly overhead as pages turn beneath my fingers and for a moment, I almost lose track of where I am…almost.
A shadow falls across my book making me snap my head up and my heart slam against my ribs. Pita stands at the garden entrance, a small smile on her lips. How long has she been watching me?
“I see you found my favorite place.”
“I hope that’s okay? It’s so beautiful and peaceful here.”
“Of course. Everything here is for you to enjoy. This is your home now.”
“Everything except the west wing,” I mutter under my breath with an eye roll. Pita laughs.
“For now,” she says and it suddenly occurs to me that she came out here for something.
“Did you need help with anything?”
“No, no.” She replies. “I just came to tell you dinner is ready, mija. You must be starving after your travels.”
My stomach grumbles right on cue making her laugh again, and this time, I laugh with her. I follow her through the maze of hallways, my book pressed tight to my chest. The kitchen is massive, much bigger than back home, and I find myself wondering what the need for all of this is when there doesn’t seem to be anyone around. Then she leads me into the dining room and it’s a whole other world. A table stretches the length of the room beneath a large chandelier that looks like it would probably kill someone if it fell on them. It’s as if this room was built for a king and his fifty guests except the table is set for one. Just one. My heart sinks.
“Where should I…” I gesture at the lonely place setting, like I have any other choice.
“Right there is perfect.” Pita pulls out the chair and I drop into it, awkwardly.
She disappears into the kitchen and comes back with steaming dishes that make my stomach growl even more. She sets everything down in front of me, then just stands there, waiting. No one else comes.
“That’s all?” I look past her, half-expecting someone to materialize.
“Did you need more food? Something different?” she asks me, confused.
“No, no…everything is fine,” I reply, not bothering to explain what I really meant. What’s the point anyway? Deep down, I already know the answer. No one else is coming and this big empty room suddenly feels claustrophobic, like a small cage. I’m more alone here than I ever was in Italy and that scares me more than anything else ever could.
“Enjoy,” she says before she vanishes.
The silence is suffocating as I pick up my fork and take a bite. The food is insane. It tastes even better than it smells and it doesn’t take long before I’ve eaten my fill. Unfortunately, as soon as I’m full I’m right back to feeling that lonely ache allover again. I’ve spent my whole life trying to escape my estate in Italy, clawing out any scrap of solitude I could, but this isn’t the freedom I wanted. It’s just another prison with pretty views and good food. An illusion that money can buy happiness. I push the leftover food around my plate and wish for my phone. If I could just call Andre, or even Sasha. Just to hear something, anything, and know they’re okay…
But my uncle took my phone before he shoved me onto that plane.
“You won’t need this anymore,” he’d said, smiling like a shark. “Your new husband will provide whatever he sees fit for you. I don’t need you distracting your cousin anymore.”
My husband. The mysterious Rio who can’t even be bothered to show up. Is he testing me? Avoiding me? What kind of man marries a stranger and then doesn’t even care enough to look her over? You would think he would want to at least see his prize? Maybe even get to know her? Unless…Uncle already told him I was a virgin? That’s probably all he cares about anyway.
I think of Andre’s face. What it must have looked like when Uncle Alessio told him he sent me away. The fury he must have felt. He always promised to protect me…to keep me safe. In the end, he couldn’t. No one could. And now I don’t even know if he’s okay…
“Liana?”
I jump and my fork clatters against the plate. Pita is suddenly right next to me, her face wrinkled with concern. I didn’t even hear her come in.
“What’s wrong, mija? You’ve been staring into space for such a long time.”
The words that come out of my mouth surprise even me. Words I could have asked when I first sat down.
