“There’s no color in your face. Are you afraid?”
I nod, noticing I’ve been clutching my arm tight enough to leave a red mark through this entire conversation.
“Then tell me what it is you’re hiding.”
“Your ties,” my voice sounds more like a squeaker toy than anything else. There’s something about Alessandro’s presence—I’m afraid, but there’s also this weird sense of wanting to pleasehim? And it’s turning me into a weak woman that I don’t even recognize. But I’ve never been in this powerless of a position before. I always had my family to rely on, so no one beyond some mean girls growing up ever messed with me.
“My ties?” His brow furrows as he narrows his eyes.
“I moved a couple around… to see if you’d notice.”
He lets go of my head and takes a step back, covering his mouth with his hand and staring at the ground. Maybe I’m hallucinating from holding my breath from anxiety for too long, but I swear I spot a brief twinkle in his eye before he opens his mouth again.
“I guess I’ll be nice and give you a pass this one time.”
He raises his eyebrows expectantly.
“Thank you,” I manage.
“Nowbehavethe rest of the night and I’ll leave you alone.”
That word—behave—has another tingly effect on me. I question what is wrong with me as he walks away to close himself in the bedroom, leaving the front door unguarded for me to walk out. I consider it for a moment, but I’m sure this is a cruel test and he has more guards waiting on the other side, waiting to take me to the dungeon for breaking another rule.
I head over to the couch to sit down in a daze. But that feeling doesn’t last for long as embarrassment and anger take over.I failed to mask my fear, and my voice was so weak when I answered his questions. I can’t blame myself too much—he had a gun out. I could be dead right now. Or Antonio.
But I can’t let him bulldoze over me like this.
At least, not until he gives me a reason to properly fear him.
I’ll test him subtly. I’ll follow his damn rules, but I will not be pleasant about it.
Chapter 10
Alessandro
Ilieinbed,staring despondently at the ceiling fan. I finished my book an hour ago and didn’t feel like starting a new one. We’ve been in our separate rooms all evening. I obviously called up a guard to wait outside the main door immediately after our confrontation. But Sofia hasn’t tested me. The door remained closed.
I think about the last conversation we had. Her admitting to me that she messed with some of the organization in my closet nearly had me bursting out laughing in front of her. But why? I am normally obsessive about that sort of thing. And even though it’s a simple fix, that would be something I’d typically become angry over.
I’ve always had these control-freak tendencies. But there was a time in my childhood when Vincenzo methodically destroyed every single belonging that was important to me. During that stage of life, my Nintendo 64 was my main form of distraction from my isolation—he took a bat to that. And to my television as well. He took all of my books and apparently had a bonfire outside with them.
Marco encouraged Vincenzo’s behavior, and most of my belongings were hand-me-downs or gifts from random people who felt sorry for the strange boy that Marco took in and then neglected. So, all I could do for the longest time afterwards was just sit there. Alone with my thoughts.
But, Marco put me to work soon after that incident anyway, so that provided me with plenty of horrible distractions.
A soft knock at the door rattles me.
She doesn’t bother waiting for my response and practically barges in. She doesn’t speak, though. Instead, she stands there with a smirk.
“Yes?” I ask, hiding my annoyance that while she’s adhering to rule number one, I can tell she’s mocking me with her face.
“I know it’s kind of early.” Her eyes flick to the clock on my nightstand: it’s only nine. “But it’s been a long day, and I want to sleep.”
“Fine.” I gesture to the other side of the bed.
“Right,” she whispers to herself, then grabs some fresh clothes and other things from her suitcases.
“I want those unpacked tomorrow.”
