Page 101 of Deception

Polite or not, I won’t let my guard down. Not that I think I stand a chance against either of them.

A sharp nail file is the only thing I manage to find in the back of an old drawer. Someone must have overlooked it when searching the room and preparing it for my stay.

That, or they're not used to keeping prisoners at their compound.

“I open the door, trying to look composed. Pleasant. “Okay, I'm ready to go.”

“Don't you look just lovely?” He means it, too.

His smile is so similar to Alessandro’s that I could weep. Hiding the pang of heartache, I stride into the hall, heading back toward the stairs as Ciro leads the way, Fiero noticeably falling behind to bring up the rear.

Despite their casual natures, their training comes through—years of practiced soldiering, security detail. It reminds me of my dad, his fellow cops.

The walk through the house is eerily quiet. There doesn't seem to be anyone here at this time of day. But more than that, there's a stillness to the place, like everyone is waiting for something.

I can relate to that anxiety, the anticipation of worry to come. Until recently, I never truly understood what real fear was.

Not like I do now, for the life growing inside me.

Unfortunately for me, it’s integrally tied to the love in my heart for the father of the child. A longing that’s hard to differentiate between, torn between the two of them, yet one and the same.

Unless I am forced to choose.

If so, I’m confident Alessandro would support my decision…if he knew.

“This way, out through the sunroom.” Ciro’s been gabbing all the while, commenting on the decor, the weather. “We used to play out here all the time as kids. Games, toys. All waiting for Alessandro to come home from some wild adventure.”

“It’s beautiful,” I offer. Focusing on anything but the end of this little walkabout or an opportunity to make a break for it has me on pins and needles.

“Yeah, Aless had it redone a few years back. He can be such a priss sometimes, believe it or not. Loves his colors, his textures. Moody bitch.”

I almost crack a smile at the jab. My mind jumps back to Aless’s secret chamber, the carefully curated ambiance.

“This coming from the peacock who likes dressing in the most gaudy colors imaginable,” Ero grumbles.

“Hey! Just because a guy likes to dress to kill and likes a little color…haters gonna hate. And I dress this way to woo the ladies.”

“Nobody says that. Ever. Especially if they want to woo anyone.”

“Jealousy is the only color you ever wear, Fiero! You could take a lesson, a page out of my book. When was the last time you got laid?”

“When was the last time you stopped talking?”

A snort lodges itself in the back of my throat. They’re completely childish and absurd. Like average, normal siblings. I find myself relaxing, just a little, to their playful demeanors.

These two don’t seem to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.

A gift that I can only assume was provided by a strong parent.

The man I love.

I blink rapidly to force back tears as we step out into a vibrant, lush garden. Green, purple, bright red, and marigold assault my senses, along with sweet scents and the glare of magnificent sunlight bathing the scene. It’s enough to distract me for a moment, a brief respite from my circumstances.

“Wow…” I gasp, savoring the warmth, the chilly and refreshing breeze. Every shrub and bush is manicured, carefully maintained. “This is incredible. Does Alessandro garden too?”

“Ha! That I’d like to see. Preferably in a flowery apron and a straw hat, right bro?” Ciro guides us along a stone path, basking in the fresh morning.

“Don’t call me bro. Ever.”

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