Titus wasn’t addressing her question. He’d designed that answer to distract her, which told Alessia everything she needed to know. Enzo wouldn’t allow her to be free. “He’s not planning on keeping me at his home, is he?”
Titus shook his head slowly. “He’s going to marry you off to the highest bidder.”
Her brother’s complete disregard for her importance was normal for her. This decision to use her as a way of consolidating power was sick. Alessia wanted to shrug off his intention to treat her as if she’d never meant anything to him but couldn’t. What was wrong with him? Tears cascaded down her cheeks.
Titus didn’t try to make her stop. He held her tight and let her release the years of pain her brother had caused her. Rocking her gently, he supported her in her grief and anger.
When her tears finally stopped, Alessia rested her head on his shoulder. Her tears had soaked through the shirt under her cheek. Titus didn’t scroll on his phone. He wasn’t communicating with anyone mentally. She had his entire attention.
“Hey, Little mate. Do you feel better?”
“Mentally exhausted,” she confessed.
Titus stood with her cradled against his chest. “Then we take nap.”
“You’re going back to bed with me?” Alessia asked. While part of her wanted to curl up under the covers and escape, she wasn’t that kind of tired. If he lay down with her, she could convince him to distract her another way.
“I will stay with you while you doze in your nursery.”
“I just woke up. I won’t be able to sleep.”
Titus studied her face for a minute before shaking his head. “Of course not.” He set her feet on the carpet as he thought for a few seconds.
Soon, he suggested, “I haven’t shown you the finger paints in your nursery. Would you like to create a picture for me to display?”
“Like for your bedroom?” she asked.
“Forourbedroom? Yes. I’ve thought the room needed a splash of color on the east wall for years.”
She sat up straight, picturing the wall going into the bathroom. Was that east? “Maybe you could make one as well. Surely the west one needs art.”
“If adding a personal touch makes you happy, Little mate, we can redecorate every single inch of space in this mansion.”
“That would take a while,” she teased.
“We’ve got all the time in the world, Little mate,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s go.”
Titus set off at an eager pace. Alessia skipped to keep up with him, giggling happily as they walked through the vast interior spaces of the home. Along the way, Titus pointed at different pieces of art, suggesting she replace those ones as well.
“And that bronze thing! Who needs a sculpture of a long-dead girl in their foyer?”
“Daddy! That’s one of Degas’s ballet dancers. You can’t put that in the basement to collect dust,” Alessia protested.
“I was thinking doorstop, but we could simply conceal the bodies in the basement,” Titus suggested. “Degas didn’t cast the mold. His family had the statue created from his wax and plasticine sculpture.”
“You are so bad. Hide the bodies in the basement,” she repeated. Alessia stopped in her tracks. She shivered slightly. How well did she know Titus?
Alessia forced herself to be brave and asked, “You don’t really have dead people hidden below us, do you?”
“No, Little mate,” he said, smiling at her fondly. He tugged her back into motion, and they passed the freshly polished staircase. Almost there.
“I’d love to learn more about you and the other….”
“Bartenders?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“No, Daddy.” Alessia rolled her eyes so hard she thought she heard them. “Vampires.”
“You can ask me anything, Alessia. If I can tell you, I will.”
