Page 15 of Marco

Late at night, I'm startled from sleep by the buzz of my phone. A text from Marco.

Marco: Unforeseen complications. Will be very late. Go back to sleep.

I stare into the darkness, pulse racing. What sinister entanglements keep him out at this hour? For the first time, real fear sinks in about the man I've been bound to. And his texting me makes me feel whatever's keeping him away has something to do with the rival family's interest in me and my family's debt. Otherwise, why would I even be on his mind?

Sleep does not return easily.

seven

Alessia

The shrill beeping of the alarm clock jars me awake, the glowing red numbers informing me it's 6am. I groan and roll over, burying my face in the plush pillows that engulf me in my massive sleigh bed. The sheets tangled around my legs are made of the softest Egyptian cotton, a luxury I never knew existed back in my modest apartment above the café. I'm normally an early bird, getting up at the crack of dawn to make sure everything is set up for the day, but there's something about this change of pace and the luxurious comfort of my bed that have me craving a sleep-in.

With great effort I peel myself from the cozy nest and make my way to the en-suite bathroom, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. I turn the polished chrome knobs in the massive walk-in shower, releasing a cascade of hot water that creates a soothing mist. As I lather the expensive floral shampoo into my hair, I think back to my life just a week ago—showering in a cramped stall, the water sputtering and fluctuating between not quite hot enough and scalding. Not that I ever really dwelled on it, it's just how it was. But so much has changed in such a short time.

After dressing in a casual sundress and pulling my hair into a messy fishtail braid, I make my way downstairs. The marble floors are cold under my feet as I walk past priceless works of art and ornate vases overflowing with fresh flowers. Even after several days here, the opulence still overwhelms me.

In the massive chef's kitchen, the housekeeper, Rosa, greets me warmly. "Buongiorno, signorina! I made your coffee just how you like." I smile gratefully and sip the rich, aromatic brew. It's weird having someone else make coffee for me, but she's done a decent job. And at least this small taste of home still exists in my strange new world.

As I nibble on fresh pastries and yogurt, I hear a gruff voice behind me. "Good morning, Alessia." I turn to see Marco impeccably dressed as always in a crisp suit, his dark eyes regarding me coolly. "I trust you slept well?"

"Yes, thank you," I reply politely. Our exchanges have remained civil, yet distant. He intimidates me with his contained power and brooding presence. His gaze always makes me feel like he's scrutinizing me, assessing my inner thoughts. As if he can see into my mind. I shiver at the thought.

Marco nods curtly and turns to confer with his security team while Rosa refills my coffee. I watch him over the rim of my cup, fascinated by this complex man who has completely upended my life. What secrets lurk behind those unreadable eyes?

I finish my breakfast as Marco and his men discuss business in hushed tones. Their words are lost on me, but the gravity in their voices sends a chill down my spine. This is my life now, whether I want it or not.

As I rise to leave, Marco addresses me. "Alessia, would you join me for a walk in the gardens after breakfast? I'd like to show you the grounds."

I'm surprised by the invitation but nod in agreement. "Of course, that would be nice."

I move to take my plate and cup to the kitchen counter and Rosa waves me away.

We make our way outside, the morning sun warm on our faces. The gardens are straight out of a fairy tale, with sculpted hedges, fountains, and flowers in full bloom. Marco seems to relax ever so slightly as we stroll along the gravel paths.

"My mother loved her roses and hydrangeas," he remarks, gesturing to the rose bushes. "She designed most of these gardens herself."

I'm struck by this personal detail he's chosen to share with me. "They're beautiful," I reply. "Your mother had wonderful taste."

We continue along in silence for a few moments before coming upon a marble bench shaded by a willow tree. Marco gestures for me to sit. I smooth my dress and perch delicately beside him on the cool stone.

"Alessia..." he begins. "I know this situation, our...arrangement, has not been easy for you. And it must feel strange. Especially seeing I've been so busy with work. You must feel like a stranger or a temporary gust here…" He pauses, seeming to choose his words carefully. "But I hope in time you will come to find comfort here. That we may build a certain...understanding between us."

I study his solemn face, allowing his words to settle. "I appreciate that, Marco. You're right… this is all still very new." I take a breath. "But I believe we can find a way to coexist amicably."

He nods, looking thoughtful. For now, an unspoken truce exists between us. What the future holds, only time will tell.

Marco nods slowly, his dark eyes searching my face. "I did not choose this path for us lightly," he says after a moment. "There are...complications to my life that prevent me from living as other men do."

He looks out over the gardens, a muscle in his jaw twitching. I realize this is likely the most honest he's been with me since I arrived.

"I know you find my world unfamiliar, even frightening at times," he continues. "But believe me when I say I wish only to provide you comfort and safety, as best I can. That's the reason we're doing this, after all. To keep you and those you care about safe from harm."

His voice holds a surprising earnestness. This brief glimpse beneath his stoic facade reveals a depth of character I had not expected.

"I believe you, Marco," I reply gently. "This situation is difficult for us both. But I'm willing to make the best of it, if you are."

The corner of his mouth quirks up slightly. "You continue to surprise me, Alessia. Your compassion does you credit."

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