Page 98 of Deception

Despite my constant work, she still haunts my every waking hour.

Maybe this was her revenge. Maybe this was her plan all along. To pull me in. To make me bow to her only to have her tear my heart out. It would be fitting for the things that I've done.

But something lingers inside me, longing for her.

And I can't help but wonder if she's longing for me too.

22

ISABELLA

For two days, I've been locked in this room.

Two long days, all alone.

There’s a TV, and a few magazines, but I can’t sit still. And I can’t engage myself in anything other than the danger of my situation. Worse, I can’t get an answer to a single question I have about what’s to become of me, what’s going on outside, what Alessandro and his brothers are up to.

So I’ve resorted to keeping track of the movement I can see through my window, overlooking a small courtyard in the back of the house. It’s menial, a small garage for the security and Alessandro’s grunts.

They come in and leave at all hours, a constant stream of grim-looking, dark-haired men in dark suits and streetwear. All packing an arsenal of weaponry.

Clearly, they're mobilizing, sending men out in groups on missions. I've seen some come back to the house, spattered in gore. Sometimes they’re carrying someone with them. Usually in a body bag.

It's horrifying.

A soft knock interrupts my vigil, announcing my lunch, brought by a young woman in a maid’s uniform. She smiles uncomfortably, like always, nodding as she sets out my plate and drink.

Then she’s gone, again.

The same as every other time.

Sometimes it’s a man. Or another woman.

All the same.

None of them will speak to me, clearly under order, possibly under threat. The only thing it has shown me is that they don’t intend to torture me or throw me in a dark cell.

Not yet, anyway.

But it dawns on me that they might very well leave me here, forget about me. Let me rot until I cave and beg to be released. Or tell them what they want to know.

Sadly, I wish I knew enough to be a real liability to them. At least then someone might come give me the chance to explain.

I must be the least of his worries.

Yet I’m still caught up in the middle of this conflict, cast aside and locked away to be dealt with later. The thought makes me angry, furious even. Don’t I deserve for Alessandro to face me?

At least to shout at me and take his rage out on me.

“He really did corrupt you if that’s the kind of attention you crave…” I mutter, sitting down to eat. Speaking to myself feels better than the deafening quiet that I’ve grown accustomed to.

I have thought over and over what I would say if given the chance. How I might sway him. If I should send him a message that I have urgent news.

But then I would have to do it, tell him that I'm carrying his child.

A fact that I can barely face myself.

Worse, one of the other brothers might come, men who don’t really know me and certainly couldn’t care less about me. One of them could harm me, harm the baby.

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