Page 12 of Desire and Revenge

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, ma’am.” Her voice is supposed to be soothing, but it just grates at me.

“I’m not ashamed,” I say, but the words feel hollow. Because I am. The memories of last night flood back, heavy and suffocating, leaving me with that same feeling of being dirty, of something not being quite right. Everything about it had felt mildly uncomfortable, wrong in ways I can’t quite name. And though I wish I’d never have to go through it again, I’m not naive enough to run from my duties.

Until you’re pregnant.

Carlotta must have whispered those words a million times when it was first announced that I’d be marrying Sebastian. The reminder is always hanging over my head like a dark cloud.

“This is my job.”

“It’s-I-I mean?—”

I watch with a churning stomach as she pulls out the sheets and dumps them into a large basket at her feet that I’m only just noticing.

“Have some coffee and rest.”

My voice comes out sharper than I intend. “I don’t need to rest.”

“Okay, ma’am,” she nods. “Breakfast is ready, and the men are seated already. Your husband and Mr. Castello.”

Ears perking, I duck my head to hide the interest that must be written all over my face. “Oh? They are both there? In that case, I think I’ll take my coffee downstairs.”

With that, I walk to the bathroom and press my back against the closed door, heart racing. Excitement or something else? I can’t tell. I don’t want to know anyway.

I take a quick shower and then get dressed. My make-up is understated, and the plain, eggshell-colored dress with kitten heels is casual enough for breakfast.

Taking a deep breath, I make my way downstairs and almost get lost trying to find the breakfast room. I finally throw in the towel and ask one of the maids. I wonder how long it’ll take me to finally be able to navigate these endless hallways.

Then, I wonder where Nero’s room is.

It’s the most inappropriate thought to have, and it makes my stomach churn with guilt as I step into the room and my eyes meet impossibly dark ones. Not that I have anything to be guilty about. Nothing happened last night. It was completely innocent.

“Sofia,” my husband’s voice breaks into my thoughts, and I hurriedly tear my eyes away from Nero. “I was beginning to think you might prefer the comfort of your bed to the company of your new family.”

I clasp my hands in front of me demurely. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t fall asleep until?—”

“Just take a seat,” he interrupts with a sigh.

I can feel the intensity of Nero’s eyes on me, but I ignore him. His eyes have the ability to grab all my attention. Like a chain pulling me in and rooting me in place, and the last thing I want is for my husband to see the effect his guest’s stare has on me.

I offer Sebastian a faint smile. I resolve not to let last night’s events dictate the course of this marriage, and certainly not to let his guest’s presence dictate my actions.

It’s clear he found our time together less than satisfying, and I’d rather he expresses it openly than let it hang in the air like an unspoken critique.

Too late, I realize my seat is directly across Nero’s. His face is empty of expression as he watches me, and I imagine what he must think of me.

Pathetic.

Why do I care? I don’t care. But my hands fist my dress under the table.

I’m so distracted by my errant thoughts that I accidentally knock over a pitcher of water as I reach for my napkin. The jug tumbles to the ground, crashing and shattering into a million pieces, water spilling everywhere.

Mouth dry, I raise my head and find Sebastian giving me an unimpressed look.

“You should watch yourself more closely, Sofia,” he says, his tone light but laced with reprimand. “It wouldn’t do for something to happen to you so soon after our wedding.”

“I’m sorry.” I don’t even know what I’m sorry for, but my husband nods graciously and goes back to arranging his napkin into his collar.

A maid appears and cleans up the mess while my husband serves himself. My stomach is in too much of a knot for me to eat, but I set up a plate for myself and force myself to take a dainty bite.

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