My mouth drops open. "A new wardrobe?"
"Yes, of course. Damiano will provide you with the clothes you'll need."
I can't help wondering what I'll need new clothes for, but I don't ask. "Was he not able to guess my size?" I ask sarcastically.
"He didn't want to be presumptuous." Lina's response holds no trace of irony. She points to another door. "There's a shower through there. I've given you some different products to try. Let me know which you prefer and I'll make sure we have a supply of them."
It's all ridiculous, but none of this is Lina's doing, so I just murmur my thanks.
The older woman reaches out to pat my arm soothingly as if she can sense I'm close to being overwhelmed. The simple act of kindness almost undoes me. My throat tightens and I have to look away.
"What happens now?" I ask quietly. "What does he want from me?"
"Only Damiano can answer the second question, but I can help you with the first. You're going to have breakfast, if you want it, of course."
"Yes, please."
"Will some pastries and coffee be okay for you?"
With the hole in my stomach demanding to be filled, it sounds like heaven. "That would be great."
"Cappuccino?"
"I prefer espresso." It makes a better start to the day in my opinion. Of course, my day usually begins much later due to working at a nightclub.
"Certainly. Make yourself comfortable. I won't be long."
When she closes the door behind her, I notice she doesn't lock it. She has no reason to, of course. This place is heavily guarded. Nobody can get in or out unless Damiano chooses to let them.
I return to the window and look out over the gardens, which are glorious. Sunlight glints off a white marble fountain at the center of a perfectly manicured lawn. Damiano said this place was a palazzo.
Considering what I've seen of the house and gardens, I'm guessing it was built during the Renaissance. I don't know where we are, but beyond the high walls at the back of the property there are other houses visible, so I imagine we're somewhere in the city.
Kicking off my heels, I walk to the dressing table at the other side of the room to look in the mirror. The woman staring back at me is a mess.
Black shadows lie heavy beneath my eyes. The blonde hair Elena convinced me would suit me is all wrong. It's too stark a contrast to the dark brown of my eyebrows.
A bruise has formed on my neck, around the spot where Riccardo stuck me with a needle. There's a listless air about me. I barely recognize myself.
Rather than waiting for Lina to reappear with breakfast, I decide to take a shower. It should help me feel more human. I head into the bathroom and strip off my clothes, so relieved to get out of the damned corset I could cry.
The shower is a fancy one with a digital display. It's surprisingly easy to use. I program my preferred temperature into it and hit the button for high pressure. It's perfect. As the water cascades over my shoulders, I relax a little.
I do some of my best thinking in the shower, but this morning I can't come up with a plan to survive whateverDamiano has in store for me. It's obvious he isn't going to kill me. Not yet.
He wouldn't have brought all my clothes here and given me a nice room if that's what he intended, but the fact he's prepared for me to be here for the foreseeable future confuses me. I don't know Damiano as anything other than my boss, but I have seen how he operates.
The man does nothing by accident.
Using some of the neroli-scented shampoo on the shelf, I wash my hair. I could stay here under the warm water all day, so I have to force myself to switch the shower off and get out of the cubicle. I grab a couple of towels, wrapping one around my body and drying my hair with the other.
When I return to the bedroom, I find breakfast waiting on the dressing table. I didn't hear Lina come back to the room. She's left me a tray with a couple of croissants, a glass of orange juice, and a coffee on it. I bite into a croissant and sip the juice. It alleviates the dryness in my mouth caused by whatever drug Riccardo injected into me.
As soon as I've finished my breakfast, I go to find clothes. If I'm going to be sitting around for a while waiting for Damiano to put in an appearance, I want to be comfortable, so I choose yoga pants and a t-shirt. I'm just slipping on a pair of sneakers when someone knocks at the door. It's unlikely to be my captor.
"Come in."
I anticipate Lina walking through the door, but instead it's a younger woman. Dressed in a blue tunic with the logo of a salon I could never afford to visit and matching pants, she carries a leather case with her. Her eyes flick over me briefly.
