Me:I'm fine. Dealing with family stuff. I'll explain soon.
Three dots appear immediately.
Lindsay:FAMILY STUFF? Valentina, you've been MIA for almost a week. Five days to be exact. That's not "family stuff," that sounds like a crisis.
Lindsay:Where are you?
I stare at the screen trying to figure out what to say. Before I can respond, there's a knock at the door. I consider ignoring it. The knock comes again. Firmer.
"Ms. Marino, I know you're in there," Rosa's voice filters through the door, calm and unyielding.
I pull the blanket up to my chin like it's armor. "Well, let yourself in. We both know these locks are purely decorative."
"Only Mr. Vitale has a master key, ma'am."
Of course he does.
I don't respond, stubbornly staying in bed.
"I have macarons," Rosa continues patiently, "and some things you may need. I'll only be a moment."
Ugh.
I throw back the blanket and pad to the door, opening it. "Hello again, Rosa."
Rosa stands there looking perfectly composed, holding a silver tray. Draped over her other arm is a garment bag.
I take the tray wordlessly and set it on the table by the window without looking at her.
"Thank you," I mutter. "But I really would have appreciated it if you'd left it outside the door."
She doesn't respond to that. Instead, she moves to the chaise lounge and carefully hangs the garment bag.
"This is for you," Rosa says, unzipping the bag to reveal an elaborate red gown, "Mr. Vitale has selected this for you to wear to dinner with the family."
I turn to stare at her. "There are dozens of dresses already in that closet. Can't I just pick one of those?"
"He would prefer you wear this one."
"Rosa." I cross my arms. "Are you seriously telling me he's dictating my wardrobe? He can't possibly expect me to be his puppet."
Her expression doesn't change. "There are worse things than wearing a five-thousand-dollar dress to dinner, Ms. Marino."
"Five thousand?" I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Why do I need an elaborate dress? Where are we going?"
"You're having dinner with his brothers. So, you can meet them properly."
My stomach drops. "I've already met Elio and Matteo; he has more brothers?"
She doesn't answer, which I'm learning is Rosa's way of confirming things she doesn't want to say out loud.
She steps out and returns carrying a small red velvet box and a folded garment draped over her arm.
"What is this?" I ask.
"A gift," she replies. "From Mr. Vitale."
I don't touch it. "Tell him I don't want gifts."
