"Not quite."
"Well, no, but at least you get to go back to work. It must be so exciting working in a club with all those VIPs."
Considering the wealth the Volante family possesses, I can't imagine Olivia is a stranger to attending glamorous events with actors and sports personalities. But having a job like mine is a freedom she might never be allowed, so I can understand why she might think it's something to aspire to.
Even as I feel a twinge of sympathy for her, I realize I may soon find myself in the same position. If Damiano is serious about making me his wife, will he allow me to continue working at La Stanza Rossa? Or will he decide he prefers me at home warming his bed and birthing his heirs?
"It has its moments." I have to admit I love my job most of the time. "But it's the means to an end. What I really want is to go to university."
"You didn't go straight after high school?"
"No, I needed to work to help my mom with the bills." She'd only ever had minimum wage jobs and struggled with debt. Helping her clear her credit card bills and get back on her feet is one of my proudest achievements, but it meant putting my ambition on hold.
"I'm sure you'll get there," Olivia says.
She offers me a reassuring smile as we lapse into silence. With the way her gaze anxiously darts to the door, I get the feeling she's stalling for time — like a woman about to face her doom. I want to give her a hug and tell her everything will work out okay, but I don't know that it will, for her or for me. We sit quietly for a moment, then Olivia clears her throat.
"You know, Damiano considers this house to be his sanctuary," she says.
"It's a pretty opulent sanctuary."
"Well, my cousin doesn't do anything by halves."
Olivia fidgets with the hem of her blouse as if she's trying to decide whether or not to say something. After a moment, she looks over at me again.
"You know, you wouldn't be here unless you mattered to him."
"I'm here because he wants to make a deal with my grandfather." Or Lorenzo does. The whole thing confuses me. I have no idea what land my grandfather owns or why Damiano's brother would want it.
"Perhaps that's what my cousin told you," Olivia says, "but I know him. There's more to it, otherwise he'd just put a gun to your grandfather's head."
I don't have the chance to argue with her as someone yells her name. Olivia rises from the bed and smooths down her pants.
"I guess you won't be getting the benefit of any more of my wisdom." She offers me a faint smile.
I set down my coffee cup and get to my feet as she crosses the room toward me. We're about the same height but in her five-inch heels she towers over me.
"It was nice to meet you, Violetta. She wraps her arms around me. "Don't hide in here forever."
"I won't." I squeeze her tight. Given a little more time, I think we'd have become friends. "Good luck with the wedding."
"Good luck with Damiano," she returns. "Don't let him walk all over you."
That's easier said than done, but I nod as she releases me and heads for the door.
As it shuts behind her, I resume my seat at the dressing table and eat what's left of my pastry. The coffee has gone cold but I drink it anyway.
Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I wonder what will happen to me.
Am I strong enough to withstand Damiano Volante? I suppose I’m about to find out.
ELEVEN
Damiano
Calculating the time difference,I realize it's already past midnight in New York. The club will be packed by now, as it always is. A part of me wants to call and check everything is running smoothly, but doing something so out of the ordinary would arouse Giorgio's suspicions. I open my laptop and bring up the security system. A grid of camera feeds flickers onto the screen. My gaze finds its target immediately.
Violetta moves through the VIP lounge with that effortless grace that brought her to my attention in the first place. She greets everyone she meets warmly. Men watch her as she passes, their eyes following the sway of her hips. I want to blind them for coveting what's mine.
