Declan's housekeeper smiled at me when I walked into the kitchen.
"Coffee, pet?"
"Yes, please." Coffee helped me maintain my energy levels. Without it, I'd end up burrowing under my duvet and never leaving my room. Mrs. O'Mara fiddled with the high-end coffeemachine, swore under her breath a few times, and then handed me a perfect espresso. After thanking her, I took it into the garden room and found my usual seat beneath a towering palm plant.
Like the library and rose garden, the garden room had been Maud Kelly's go-to place when she wanted peace. When I was a teenager, the Kelly matriarch had treated me with great kindness. She never once complained about my presence at all the important family events, whereas Seamus had muttered incessantly abouteejitslettingstray catsinto the house.
Thankfully, Declan must have said something to him, and despite his cantankerous comments, nobody ever kicked me out. Besides, I wasn’t there all that much. I spent most of my formative years at Castlemaine Academy, with Saoirse and Aoife, only returning to the Kelly estate for holidays if my sister was busy with her work projects, which rarely happened because she always tried to make time for me.
Sunlight cracked through the fluffy clouds racing across the sky, adding a rare summery vibe to the sprawling gardens. I watched as Declan's men patrolled with dogs. When I was younger, I'd tried to befriend the guard dogs and nearly got bitten for my trouble. Declan had tersely informed me the dogs weren't pets and to leave them the fuck alone.
It hadn't stopped me from wanting one of them to be my friend. One day, when I had a permanent home, I'd have a dog. Something large and scary looking, but soft as marshmallow on the inside. A warm body to cuddle up to at night. A friend to keep the nightmares away.
I sipped my coffee, the book on my lap forgotten. Time passed so slowly in this house. People came and went outside the garden room, but nobody bothered me.
The longer I sat there, the more I got lost in my head, caught up in memories of Mrs. Gia and our life back when I lived withmy father. Thea had tried to find out what happened to my beloved nanny after Kyril rescued us from my father, but even Milo had hit a brick wall. It was as if she'd vanished into thin air. More likely, she'd died that day and my father’s men had buried her in the woods.
I hoped not. I preferred to imagine her living her best life in a small apartment overlooking the sea somewhere remote. Knowing my father, it was highly unlikely, but until I knew for sure she'd died, I'd continue to cling onto hope.
Outside, the sun slid behind rain clouds congregating on the horizon. The incoming weather system seemed an accurate barometer of my mood: stormy and bleak. Not that there was much to be cheerful about. Until Father was back in prison, I couldn't return to Italy, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. Not after Anton had attacked me.
Speaking of…
My phone had blown up with angry messages ever since I left the bar, most of them blaming me for his injuries. He’d needed facial surgery to fix a broken nose, jaw, cheekbone, and eye socket.Boo hoo. I tried - and failed - to feel sympathetic. And since I wasn’t in Italy any longer and he had no clue where I’d gone, threatening me was a waste of his time.
Naturally, I'd blocked his number almost immediately, but the bastard had taken to messaging me from burner phones. After blocking unknown numbers several times, I'd given up and now the messages from 'unknown' numbers arrived daily. A toxic flood of misogynistic bullshit guaranteed to lift my mood each morning.
Yay.
Another message pinged on my phone. I glanced at the screen.
Unknown: Fat fucking bitch, you'll get what's coming to you.
I wasn't fat. Curvy, perhaps, but not fat. Definitely not now after weeks of minimal appetite and low-key depression. But the barb still struck home. Anton loved to poke at my vulnerable spots. It gave him great pleasure to knock me down.
Just as I deleted the message, another arrived. This one promised I'd die alone.Lovely. The next suggested I kill myself.
With a cheerleader like Anton, was it any wonder my mental health had reached basement level?
The garden room walls closed in on me. I longed to step outside, but Declan's warning rang loud in my head.
"Stay indoors for now. It's safer."
I understood his concerns, but staying indoors 24/7 was slowly driving me nuts. I wanted to walk on the beach, feel the wind in my hair, and taste the sea salt. Walking helped lift my mood. Hell, even a gym workout would get me out of my head, even though I despised the gym. But unless I wanted to work out alone, I was shit out of luck.
Conal and Ronan appeared to have forgotten about the Declan-ordered self-defense lessons. Neither of them had sought me out in days.
With a sigh, I forced down the negative thoughts spiraling inside my head. There was no point rehashing all the bullshit in my life. I already had Thea on my case.
The only reason I'd willingly spend time at her house was to see my niece and nephew. Thea had sent me a video last night: Ferg having a full meltdown after Landon refused to give him a second helping of ice cream because he'd emptied a bucket of Lego bricks into the pool.
It was kind of funny. I missed that little boy. Clemmie too. Clemmie reminded me of myself with her shy little smile and love of books.
I sighed. I knew itwassafer in the US, but the thought of dealing with my sister in full protective mode made me want to walk into moving traffic.
Rain hammered against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, obscuring the view of the garden. Given the awful weather, there was a possibility nobody would notice if I sneaked out for a quick walk around the garden. To stretch my legs.
The chances of anyone attacking the estate again were low. Not with all the extra guards posted. Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled my hoodie over my hair and unlocked the French windows.
