Elena leads the way up the grand spiral staircase, and we walk down a long hallway until we get to a girl’s room. The walls are neon pink, and the bedspread is black and white zebra-striped. The walls are covered with mid-2000s pop stars. Some I recognize; the others I assume are too Italian, or I’m slightly too young.
I clear my throat since everyone has been unusually quiet on this walk. “This is your old room?”
She nods as she stares around her surroundings, her eyes looking wistful. “It’s been ten years since I’ve stood in this room. I never took the time to update it from how I had it as a teenager. I can’t believe he didn’t touch it either.”
I open my mouth to ask why she hasn’t been in here in ten years, but don’t bother—it feels like I’d be asking a sensitive question.
“This way,” Alessandro nods at me. I follow him further down the hall. “I plan on renovating Marco’s room and eventually moving in there, but I don’t even want to look at that space. It would remind me too much of him. For now, we’ll stay in here.”
He holds the door open for me and displays a large spare bedroom. It’s barely decorated, and I wonder if anyone has even stayed here. It’s doubtful. I don’t think Marco would have many overnight guests, and he has other rooms in the castle that they could stay in.
“Unpack your things. I have a lot to deal with today, so I won’t be back until the nighttime. But you and Elena will be safe here. Someone would have to blow through two high-security doorsand a small army. And if that fails, there’s a panic room that Elena can lead you to.”
“Panic room. Right.” I question how much danger we’re in after Alessandro killed Marco. He might not have done that impulsively, but surely that shook up the ecosystem in this castle quite a bit.
“It’s just a precaution.” He says, sensing my discomfort. “No need to worry too much.”
One of his soldiers, Antonio, appears in the doorway, leaning against the wall in the hallway. Alessandro greets him and turns to me.
“Since I obviously haven’t had time to sweep this place, Antonio will follow you around if you want to leave this bedroom. If you’re hungry, you can go to the kitchen. And there’s a gym, theater room, and plenty of space to explore compared to my old place.”
My ears perk up at the wordgym.But the feeling of disappointment crushes me because he’s making it clear that I’m still a prisoner here after all of that.
I force a smile anyway to appear amicable, then he turns around to leave.
Chapter 21
Alessandro
Theiceclinksaroundin my glass as I take in the surroundings of my new home; I desperately wanted to come to Marco’s wing of the castle when I was a child. Elena lived here, and I more or less wasn’t allowed in here except for large gatherings. The ornate detail of the walls, the high ceilings make me feel like I’m living like a king.
Despite hating Marco, this place always had a homelike aura around it. Almost as if I knew I’d kill him one day and claim it as my own.
Today was an anxiety-inducing marathon of a day, but I finally feel safe enough to sleep and trust that the several guards I have stationed outside my door will keep me, Sofia, and Elena safe. Acouple of captains who were loyal to Marco had to die, but most seemed fine enough with the change that I don’t expect a coup anytime soon. I couldn’t kill Elio—Sal gets along with him too well, and I realized I’ll have to learn how to get along with him because I need Sal by my side.
I down the rest of my drink, setting it on the bar with a hollow thud that echoes through his study, then plop down in the desk chair, not ready to face either woman sharing this living space with me. I know that my sister’s feelings towards her father were complicated, and I’m sure she’s mourning but wants to hide that from me. This breaks me up inside, but I’m sure that she agrees it had to be done.
And Sofia? I don’t even know what to expect after everything that happened this morning. I’d kill to take over where we left off: getting another taste of her, then driving myself into her until my cum drips down her legs. But I’m worried she thinks I’m a monster after how things went down with Marco.
I passively rummage through the desk drawers, expecting to find some things of use to me in my new position, but all I find are various oddities like tarot cards, witchy rocks, and other similar things I know nothing about. I always assumed his mystical side was a poor attempt at intimidating or an inside joke that I wasn’t a part of. But looking at this, it seems he practiced this stuff legitimately. Some of the other drawers are more mundane: loose cash, a couple of guns, pens, papers, and all that boring stuff. Then, I find a scrapbook—bright pink with black and white stripes on the border.
Elena must have made this for him.
And he kept it.
He resented her later in her life for getting out of all of her marriages, but he must have loved her deep-down to keep this in his desk.
A lot of the photographs are goofy, silly things that a child would put together. Framed selfies of Elena before the word selfie was even a thing. Some of them are of Marco, looking completely unrecognizable to me as he laughs, smiles, and looks carefree. Her, Marco, and Vincenzo standing in front of Petra, Victoria Falls, and the Grand Canyon—various trips I was never allowed on. In one of them, Vincenzo has his arm slung around her shoulder, and they’re laughing so hard her face is red. That’s not the only one of her and Vincenzo in her teenage years.
In a way, it feels like a betrayal. She knew I hated him, and yet she had probably thought of him as much of a brother as I, going off of these photographs.
And the ones of Marco? I can’t even begin to process those. It’s like I’m looking at his friendly identical twin in these pictures. He never showed this side of himself to me.
I slam the book shut, wondering why I looked at all. I knew I wouldn’t be featured in it—there were a couple of photos ripped in half, and I can take a guess who was removed.
My head hurts, and I try to think if I drank water or had any meals today. But seeing those pictures of Elena happy with Vincenzo and Marco killed any appetite that may havebeen brewing. I leave my drink half-empty on the desk and go upstairs.
There’s no light underneath the bedroom door we’re staying in, and I expect Sofia to be sleeping. So, her voice surprises me when I enter the room.
