Giulia shoots me a wide grin before replying to her sister, and I sigh happily to myself. The afternoon of gardening and manicures feelslike step in the right direction. Much as I love Caterina and Gia, I’ll need to form bonds here.
How's that going to help you escape?
I scowl at the thought as the jingling bell above the door catches my attention, and I see my husband walking in. "What are you doing here?" I ask, surprised.
He murmurs something to Faro who's seated next to a Vicini household guard by the windows before striding over. "I heard this was a good place to get a manicure." He signs the words for Giulia, making all three of his little sisters laugh, and my heart does a flippity-flop in my chest.
"Carlo, you must be busy," Fiorella says, but I note the way she quickly rises from her seat and touches his cheek when he kisses her hand. Even if they're unconventional in a couple of glaring ways, there is affection in this family.
Taking a seat beside me, he glances at the nail polish I've chosen. "Blood red? I approve." He reaches into his pocket. "You left these on the terrace." He passes me my rings.
"Oh goodness! I didn't mean to! I took them off while we were digging in the dirt and… You didn't have to go to the trouble of bringing them here," I say, slipping them on.
He stares at my hand with something like satisfaction blazing in his eyes before he drops a quick kiss on my lips. "It was no trouble, but I'm interrupting girl time. I'll be working in my office when you get home. I hope you'll interrupt me there." I smirk, recalling that night on his desk.
He bids his sisters and mother goodbye and leaves. "That was strange," I murmur to Aurora who's sitting on the other side of me.
"Not so strange for a man in love."
I jerk back in surprise, and the manicurist purses her lips. "Sorry." I lean toward Aurora, whispering, "We're not… He wanted me, and he's used to getting his way. But he was going to marry my cousin. He just forced me to marry him because she ran away."
Aurora shakes her head. "Marriages in our circles rarely start with love, but love is a curious thing that can grow in unexpected places."
"You remind me of a very romantic friend of mine," I comment, thinking of Cat. Aurora shrugs, smiling to herself. Glancing at Faro, I ponder their relationship and her words. Despite his gruff demeanor, Faro loves his wife.
But Carlo in love with me? I should know better than to hope for such things. Didn't my own father prove how far you can trust a man?
34
Francesca
It’s a rainy autumn morning two weeks later, and I’m stifling yawns. Carlo is sinfully good at making it worthwhile to stay up late.
We've had to pick Aurora up again, and we're chatting when Faro interrupts. "No one's available to drive you home for me, Rory," he says gruffly.
I realize he’s a little torn over what to do. It’s his duty to guard me, but he doesn't want to leave Aurora unprotected. “If you just want to walk me to the door, I’ll be safe inside the school. You can take Aurora home.”
He doesn't like it but agrees. “Stay inside. Luca will be here soon.”
“Luca?” A chill passes through me. Unlike Renato with his charming, teenage nonchalance, Luca still scares me as much as he did that day in our garden in Boston years ago when I saw his menacing smile for the first time.
“Sì.Carlo trusts his brothers with you, and he trusts me. No others.”
Aurora’s sympathetic smile tells me I wasn’t quick enough hiding my misgivings before I agree and let him walk me inside.
I slip into my Music Theory class right before it begins. I smile at the girl sitting beside me. She gives me a leery smile in return that doesn’t reach her eyes. A spark of annoyance blazes. Here, I’m still the outsider, and people look at me with the same distrust people within the Trio have for years. At least in the Trio, that wouldn’t have been the case if not for Da’s actions.
Of course, I have a bodyguard escorting me around the school and, while the press might label Carlo a wealthy businessman, not everyone is that stupid. Family, mine and my husband’s, a few friends, I’m beginning to realize that’s as close to normal as my life will ever be.
I throw myself into taking notes until a new disruption comes along. “Yes, hello, Miss…” the professor prompts, impatiently.
“Radcliff,” a young woman replies. “I’m new here.”
The professor frowns before his face goes oddly blank a moment later. I suppose a new student after the semester begins isn’t unusual. “You may sit anywhere that’s free,” the professor says, nodding toward the front row where I’m seated and continuing the lecture.
Tanned and toned, the girl wears white Converse sneakers, heavy makeup and has her dark hair teased within an inch of its life. “Hiya,” she says, smiling at me as she takes a seat.
I nod, surprised by her friendliness compared to the girl on the other side of me. I wonder if she’s a transfer from another performing arts school. She looks to be in her early twenties. She has a tattoo on her bicep barely hidden by her short-sleeved top and another peeping out from the top of one of her sneakers. I’ve never been friends with a girl that has a tattoo, let alone two. I never spent much time around outsiders at all. The Catholic schools I attended were mostly filled with the spawn of the Trio or the BRG’s sinners. I’ll bet this girl isn’t expected to remain a virgin until her wedding night. She looks like she’d be fun to get to know.
