My stomach twists as i drive through the front gate, the same une I’ve felt every night for the past few weeks. The guards let me in without question by now, they’re ustomed to myes and goings. They seem pleased to see me, like I belong
here
Except for one person. The one I’ve barely seen since that night in his office. The one I can’t stop thinking about
As I look at the house, it seems to growrger will each turn of the wheel. It feels like a gilded cage. I could leave any time, Dad would let me move in with him without hesitation. That that would be trading one cage for another, and at least this one offers space and freedom–though that freedom feels more like an illusión <b>Gianni </b>may not interrogate me or control my every move, but his presence still looms over me. It’s all a trade–off in the end
I have the freedom toe and go as I please, so why do I always end up back here after picking up dinner? I could hang out with colleagues from the office or visit Dad. He’s always eager to hear about work, and Thaven’t checked in on him in a while. I suspect he’d live on coffee and fast food if I didn’t remind him to eat something green now and then.
So why don’t I?I could see a movie, go shopping. I could do whatever I want, and yet I choose toe straight here.
Because even though nni has avoided me as much as I’ve avoided him, I can’t shake the sense of being watched. Like now, as Tget out of the car. The hair on the back of my neck rises. I can feel his gaze on me. Watching my every move, wondering what took me so long to get here.
Or maybe I’m just going crazy.
Around the office<b>, </b>I’ve been able to pretend that everything about my life is normal. No one has to know I spend my free time locked in the empty wing of an enormous mansion. They don’t know I scurry into the house with my head down, eyes trained on the ground, before dashing to the bedroom and locking the door behind me.
They don’t know I eat dinner alone <b>at </b>the desk in Tatiana’s office. Or that every night I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. wondering it this is the night Giannies for me. He hasn’t, and mate he won’t. Maybe he was serious about wanting nothing to <b>do </b>with me anymore.
It would be for the best if he was. As exciting as he is, there’s <b>a </b>difference between the sort of danger that makes my heart race and my nipples hard and how he spoke to me. The way he touched me and threatened me with that gun.
Even now, my blood runs cold at the reminder. There was a second when I thought for sure he was going to kill me because I was alubility. He wouldn’t want Tatiana to know for sure the sort of things he does, so I was certain panicked, confused, horrified
he would want to shut me up permanently.
He might have calmed down since then, but I <b>can’t </b>forget the way it felt. The terror in my veins. There was a monster staring down at me with no light in his eyes. No life. Thardly recognized him. Deep down, I knew I was in the presence of the real Gianni Rossetti A man so used to violence and intimidation that it meant nothing to threaten me with a gun.
So leave, then. <b>God</b>, how many times have I told myself that? There’s nothing keeping me here but pride–which is ironic, considering I don’t have enough pride to leave after he threatened to kill me. The more I think about it, the more confused 1 be, and the angrier I get with myself.
It’s easier just to sit down with my sd and binge something on myptop and wait until it’s time to go to bed. My life is sleeping, poing to work, anding home to a handful of beautiful rooms that aren’t actually mine
It’s not like I haven’t been looking for a ce. I’ve spent a few lunch breaks checking out apartments in the area, but my heart sinks a little further with each one. The one I looked at yesterday featured an oven that looked like it might <b>have </be from the Reagan administration and nasty bathroom fixtures even older than that. I don’t think it’s being picky to hope for something that will not break down on me. Another ce sat between two abandoned buildings covered in graffiti. I didn’t get the satest feeling, and <b>no </b>way could ever have Dad visit. He’d have <b>a </b>stroki,
I’m doing my best to see the good in a situation that seems terrible I’ll be better once Tatiana gets back. She offered to let me stay longer before she left. There’s plenty of room, and I won’t be done then. It’s not a permanent solution, but it is better than
nothing
+25 <b>BONUS </b>
Oh god, what if she expects ine to spend time with her and nni together? All it takes is a question like that to make me break out in a cold sweat. She’ll want to know why things are weird, and don’t know if I could answer that question without giving away all the things I don’t want her to know
In other words, there’s a speeding train bearing down on me. The orn’s re is a little louder everyy, and the lights shine a little brighter the closer ites. I wish it didn’t feel like I’m tied to the tracks
Tonight’s my least favorite of the week. I used to look forward in Enday nights and having a whole weekend stretched out in front of me. Now, there’s nothing to look forward to except doing my best to mold nni for two days.
The windows on this end of the house look out over the grounds, but no matter how I crane my neck, I can’t get a look at the driveway or courtyard. There’s no way to know if he’s left or not.
I guess I could <b>always </b>ask one of the guards who sometimes walk the halls in this wing whether Mr. Rossetti is in, but I wouldn’t want word to get back to Gianni I’m asking about him. I’m in the middle of a chess game, basically. Always looking a few moves ahead
It’s exhausting, but it would be even more exhausting to live under Dad’s roof again. I need to believe I’m making the right decision here, so I remind myself how overbearing and protective he is while I take <b>a </b>shower after finishing dinner.
Thesitate before opening the door leading out to the bedroom. My Engers close around the knob, but I can’t bring myself to turn it. Am Lafraid Gianni will be waiting there for me? Or am I secretly hoping he is? I wish I knew how to feel about him.
I wish I knew how to feel about myself and the way disappointment rings in the back of my mind when I find the room empty Nobody’s waiting to punish me… or to hold me.
I pout. Does he really n to ignore me for the rest of our lives? I could kick myself for believing he ever cared about me on a real level. How could he have if he could so easily avoid me like I never existed?
Sure, I’m avoiding him, but that’s different. I didn’t threaten him with a gun, for <b>fuck’s </b>sake. It’s in stupidity to want to see him after all of that. It’s bad enough <b>I’m </b>still under his roof, letting him provide shelter for me. I already know I have no pride. But to want him, to hope he pays me a visit in the night. It’s fucked up, so fucked up.
By Sunday morning, I can’t stand it any longer. I don’t feel like going out to pick up breakfast yet again, and I’m going stir–crazy I’ll scream if I have to <b>stare </b>at these walls <b>for </b>another minute.
That’s what forces me out of the room <b>and </b>how I find myself tiptoe og across the house. Gianni’s usually in his office every day of the week. I doubt he’ll know I left the wing. <b>That’s </b>if he even cares.
The sunny kitchen is a tremendous improvement, and the aroma of coffee lightens my mood. I go to the cab and grab a mag I’m about to pour myself a cup when the pantry door opens, and I early drop the carafe.
It’s only Sheryl, the family cook, who looks as surprised <b>as </b>1 am.
“Oh! I imagined you’d left by now,” she says with a softugh. “I was checking to make sure the pantry is stocked with Miss Tatiana’s favorites.”
“No, I’m still here. I’ve been spending a lot of time alone.”
She arches her eyebrow. “Have you been eating?”
“1 pick things up here and there,” Loffer with a shrug
She scowls, but I don’t think she means it harshly. and overpriced <b>coffee</b>.”
“You sound like my dad.”
“A young person like you should save your <b>money</b>, not waste it on cheap junk
“Your father is a wise man. Now, there’s no way I’m going to let you <b>leave </b>this kitchen without fixing you something to eat What would you like?”
“Scrambled eggs, maybe? I’m simple and don’t want to be a pain.
“Nonsense. It’s what I’m here for, and with Miss Tatiana on her tra, and Mr. Rossetti in and out at all times of the day, I don’t have nearly enough work to keep me busy”
“Okay. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take it back to my room.” Because even now, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m taking a colossal risk. He coulde strolling in any <b>second</b>, or I might run into him on my way back. Why was it such a big deal for me toe out here? I can’t even remember anymore.
How long does it take to cook eggs, for god’s sake?
By the time she slides the te my way, I’m trady to run. “Thank you so much,” Imurmur with a tight smile before turning away and starting out for my room. This is ridiculous. Fean’t believe how my heart’s racing, and my skin’s flushed and sweaty, all because I didn’t want to spend the entire werkend behind a locked dour.
These had better be some damn good eggs to make it worthwhile he finds me out here.
“Caterina.”
It’s not Gianni’s voice calling out from across the central <b>hall </b>that separates the two wings, thank god. Otherwise, I’d drop my breakfast all over the floor and maybe per myself.
How can I still want him, even though the idea of running into him terrifies me? <b>I </b>need help.
Roger is at the other end of the hall. I wouldn’t say we’re friends, but I’ve always seen him as a decent guy. I know he’s just. bad <b>as </b>Gianni–the only difference is he’s never been mean or threatened me, and he looks friendly enough as he approaches It’s Tatiana he has a problem with, not me.
“How are things going?” he asks, eyeing the te in my hand before meeting my gaze. “Is there anything you need?”
Interesting. I’m not surprised he sent Roger to do his dirty work. I don’t know if I’m ttered or hurt that he wouldn’te to me himself. It’s clear he cares enough to want to know if I’m doing okay. I don’t know why I’mining. His presence would only overwhelm me. Distance is good. At least I can think clearly when he isn’t around.
“<b>Why </b>can’t he ask me himself?” I whisper, looking around him, expecting to find his boss lurking in the shadows.
“He’s very busy.”
“Sure.” 1 sigh. “Let him know I’m fine, and everything will be in ce when Tatiana returns home in a few days.” His scowl keeps me from walking away like I want to. “She’s noting home. I assumed she told you.”
<b>“</b>What? Why?” I whine, sounding like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum. I’ve been practically counting the minutes.
He rolls his eyes<b>, </b>smirking the way he usually does when she’s involved. “Christopher wants to stop off in Mn to visit with family, and they’re going to swing through Rome. Her words when she spoke to Gianni earlier today.”
And she didn’t call me. What if she somehow found out, and she’s mad at me? Maybe that’s why she’s avoidinging <b>home</b>, because of me.
My chest hurts<b>, </b>and my appetite is <b>a </b>distant memory now. “I’ll have to call her.”
“I don’t know. She might be too busy running around the world with <b>Daddy </b>footing the bill.” He blinks rapidly, the lines between his brows smoothing out “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay.” Compared to some things I’ve witnessed him saying to her, that’s nothing
“You’d better go
o and eat your eggs while they’re still hot. He offers a tight grin before backing away
Adoor further down the hall swings open, and this time a familiar breathless voice rings out. “Roger? I want to check the ”
Shit He stares at me, his gaze cold, but there’s a trickle of something else there. My heart <b>doesn’t </b>freeze, as I had expected. It feels like it’s about to split open
I only thought I knew how much I missed seeing him and hearings deep voice. All it takes is a glimpse of his sculpted body<b>, </b>dressed in sweat–soaked workout clothes, and I’m imagining throwing myself at his feet and begging him to forgive me. Touch
1
Why do you hate me? What did I do?
Rather than beg him for answers,
1, I waste no time running away from that look in his eyes. Whatever did, he can’t forgive in.
And I have no idea how much longer it will be before Tatianaer back. There’s nobody to rescue me, I’ll spend the rest of my day going through rental listings. Right now, I’d be happy to take our walls and a ceiling that doesn’t leak. Anything, so long as It means never seeing that look in his eyes again.
A look that makes me think he wishes he’d gone through with killing me.