I look down at the phone and do as she asks before I say anything else stupid.The line’s already ringing by the time I’m standing at the balcony railing, a slight breeze, smelling of the ocean, honeysuckle, and roses, caressing my face, and the sun warming my skin.It could definitely be worse.
But it could also be so much better.
And it does get better as Chiara answers the call.She sounds stronger, her voice almost like it always was.
“How are you?”I ask.
“I’m not a hundred percent yet, but I think the worst is finally over,” she says.“What took you so long to call?I’ve been waiting by the phone all morning.”
“Sorry, I just got the phone,” I say.
“How are mom and dad and Lidia?”she asks.“Did they get there all right?”
“Get where?”
“There… to LA,” she says.“Angelo says they arrived late last night.”
Whatever favor Matteo managed to win in my heart while I wasn’t paying attention is now mostly gone.Even my sister’s monster husband keeps her updated on the things that are important to her, like the location and well-being of our family.And here’s Matteo, telling me he loves me and that he’ll make sure everyone is safe… but he doesn’t even tell me that they’re all in town.
“I didn’t know anything about that,” I say and sit down on one of the lounge chairs out here, ignoring all the dirt and debris that’s accumulated on it.In fact, this whole balcony is dirty and full of rotten leaves, abandoned spiderwebs and assorted other filth.Even the sun suddenly doesn’t feel so warm anymore.
“Tell him to let you see them,” she says.“He’ll do it if he feels even half as bad about me getting shot as Angelo does.”
“He told me he’s going to dangle me like a carrot so Dad will do what he wants him to do,” I say.A golden carrot, he called me that night at the hospital.“So I don’t think he’s going to let me see them.”
“Are you OK?Is he treating you well?”Chiara asks, sounding alarmed.
“Apart from keeping me locked up, he’s treating me better than I’ve ever been treated,” I say.“And I hate him even more for it.”
Chiara sighs, sounding like she’d been holding her breath.
“Use it,” she says.“He clearly has a lot of affection for you, so use it to get what you need.What we need.It’s the only way now.”
She sounds like she’s been thinking a lot about this.
“Is that your strategy with Angelo?”I ask, putting a lot of emphasis on her husband’s name.
“Yeah,” she says.“He wants to rule New York and I’m going to be his queen.But not the kind he expects.Or desires.Us women, we don’t get a lot of say in anything.But we have a lot of power.And I mean to use all of mine to make him pay for everything he’s done to us.You should do the same.They all underestimate us.”
She’s speaking in a low tone, but her voice is heated despite it.And she sounds just like her old self, passionate about what she believes in, unafraid to say exactly what she means, full of sharp ideals and ideas.
I wish I had her fire.I wish I had her drive.I wish I truly hated Matteo like I just declared I do.
But the truth is… I still love him as much as I hate him.
And the only time I want to manipulate him is when I need him to give me the kind of pleasure that makes everything else go away.
“I’ll ask him to let me see our family,” I say.
“Don’t just ask, make it happen,” she says, and I promise her I will.
As to how, that’s another matter.
But I’ll find a way.I’ll figure it out.Because despite the confused state of my mind and the two polar opposites of love and hate existing in my mind, there is only one reality.And the reality is that I am locked up on the second floor of a mansion, allowed out only when my captor has the time and the wish to take me out, touched and kissed and fucked only when he wants it and I should stop pretending I see anything more in any of that.
Chiara tells me they’re releasing her from the hospital later this week.That she has the phone now, but can’t make outgoing calls and that I should call her back as soon as I have news.
I promise I will then end the call.
