Page 14 of Vicious Redemption

I jolt upright in my bed, my heart racing as I look frantically around the room. The sheets are in a tangled knot at my feet. I must have kicked them off in my troubled sleep. But I see no dead bodies around me, no gorge ready to swallow me whole.

Pressing my palm to my chest, I try to calm my heart as I breathe deeply.

“I’m okay. They’re okay. We’re all going to be okay,” I say like a mantra, and I let my hand slide down to rest comfortingly on my belly.

What my baby must think of the rollercoaster ride she’s survived in the three short months since her conception. I’m due for my next appointment in a few more weeks, and at this one, we’ll have the chance to learn if she is, in fact, a girl like I suspect.

Despite my best efforts to calm myself and comfort the tiny life growing inside me, my dream disturbed me deeply, and I can’t shake the sense of foreboding it leaves in my chest.

Needing to hear a comforting voice, I turn to my bedside table to find my phone. Maria is the only person I can always talk to. And while I learned my lesson about filling her innocent ears with my worries and fears and half-cooked schemes, it won’t hurt just to call her and see how she’s doing.

It would be nice to know she and my family are alright.

Even if their future still hangs in the balance, it will bring me peace of mind to know they’re safe for now. But as I scan the tidy surface, I frown. I thought I plugged my phone in last night in case Leo decided to call.

But I was so stressed and anxious, I must have forgotten to. Climbing out of bed, I search the room, checking my vanity, the bathroom, and even my dresser drawers in case I put it somewhere without thinking.

I can’t remember where I last had it. I’m not even sure if I brought it to the charity ball at this point.

Frustrated, I change into jeans and a T-shirt, then strike out in search of it somewhere in the larger part of the house. Starting in the library, I check the overstuffed chair I’ve claimed for reading, looking to see if it slipped into the cracks around the cushion. But no luck. After a wide sweep of the expansive space, I head back out into the hall and start when I nearly collide with the Moretti butler.

“Ah, Luigi, I’m so sorry,” I gasp, grasping his arm as I try to calm my overstressed nerves. They’re making me jumpy. It doesn’t help that the man is so quiet, he’s constantly surprising me.

“That’s quite alright, Signora Moretti,” he assures me with a stiff bow. Then he starts to head on his way without a word.

“Wait!” I call, my hand tightening on his arm.

He pauses, his eyes tracking down to my hold, and I release him.

“Would you mind helping me find my phone? I seem to have lost it and was hoping you or one of the maids might have seen it around the house.”

The butler clears his throat, as if suddenly uncomfortable. “Master Leo expressed the desire that you not have a phone,” he states stintedly.

“He what?” Fury rises inside me as the words hit me like a backhand.

“He insisted it was necessary for the time being…” he states stiffly, his face settling into an emotionless mask.

Squaring my shoulders, I refuse to show that it bothers me. “That’s fine. I’ll just take the car, but I want to go see my sister.” I spin on my heel, jutting my chin in the air.

But before I get two steps, Luigi calls me back. His eyes shift to the middle distance, avoiding mine as he informs me, “Your driver has been released from his duties, signora. Master Leo would like you to remain on the grounds until further notice.”

“You’re joking,” I snap, my fists balling.

But when he looks up to meet my eyes once again, I know he’s not.

“So, after everything he said about putting the past behind us, he’s decided to lock me up? I’m not even free to speak with my family?”

Luigi stands silently, letting me fume as he remains rigidly composed.

Leo probably gave him no insights or explanations as to why I’m to be a prisoner in my own home once again. But it would seem that caring about my family hasn’t just obliterated the trust between me and Leo. It’s launched me back to the spot I was in when we first got married.

Once again, I’m just a pawn in his game.

“Fine. You know what? You can tell your master when he comes home that he can sleep in another bed until further notice,” I hiss.

I know it’s not Luigi’s fault, that I shouldn’t be taking my anger out on him. But I’m furious, and I storm back to our room, stomping hard enough to make a racket even in my rubber-soled tennies.

I hate feeling trapped, and once again, the men in my life have me in a gilded cage.

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