Page 50 of Brutal Crown
I should say no. I should give him a silly excuse and walk out right now. But I don’t. I slide into the seat beside him and smooth my dress as if any of this is normal. Like I’m not falling apart inside.
Marco pours me a glass of wine and leans in. “You look tense. Miss me?”
I smile sweetly. “A little.”
“Just a little?” He places a hand over his chest. “You wound me,Stellina.Maybe you should do good on that promise of looking after me.”
I laugh softly, twirling a piece of my hair in my fingers. Every muscle in my body is taut from bottling up my emotions. My anger. My pain. This is the only way I can let them out without having a meltdown.
I’ll probably cringe at my behavior tomorrow, but right now, I don’t care about anything else except hurting the man sitting directly opposite me.
Francesco hasn’t spoken since I came in, and I swear not to look at him again. But from the corner of my eye, I catch him cutting his lasagna a little too harshly.
Elio has also been quiet, though that’s the way he always is. I can count the number of times I’ve heard him speak. I don’t pay any attention to him. I haven’t been able to look him in the eye since I caught him with a maid. There’s something about him that makes me genuinely terrified. Maybe it’s because I never know what’s going on in his mind.
I take a sip of the wine Marco pours me and force my eyes to remain on him. His comments are playful, bold, almost daring. And I play along, not for Marco, but for the man I can’t seem to recover from.
Francesco stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “I still have some work to do. All these wedding preparations… They never end.”
I ignore the bitter taste in my mouth. And when he leaves, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Marco leans in, murmuring, “He’s been like that all week. Moody bastard.”
I don’t answer because I’m too angry to say anything nice or respectful.
It’s late when I head down the hallway in the servants’ quarters alone. I take the long way back to my room, hoping to clear my head. I pass one of the darker corridors, and that’s when I see a tall, dark figure.
Elio.
My heart slams against my chest as I take him in. Leaning against the wall like he’s been waiting for me, his arms are crossed, and his mouth is curled in a lazy smile.
It might be the first time I’ve ever seen him smile, and it doesn’t look friendly at all.
“You look different from all the times I’ve seen you,” he says, leaning off the wall to step toward me. “You look like there’s a lot going on in your mind… in your life.”
I bristle but stay rooted, unsure if I should run or speak, wondering where he’s heading.
“You think you’re the first girl we’ve broken in?”
My breath stops. Ice crawls up my spine. Anger and humiliation burn my cheeks.
“You won’t be the last,” he continues, his voice low and unhurried. “They like to ruin soft things here. This house… our world… it doesn’t allow happy endings.”
I force a nervous laugh, but it sounds wrong even to me. “I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He smirks, taking another step forward to stand right before me. Then I feel it, his amusement at my fear.
“You think any of this is a coincidence? That you’re still alive because someone up there gives a damn?”
I stare at him, my lips parted, but no sound comes out.
“You’re still breathing because they both intervened to keep you alive. Separately. For their own personal interests… their own fucking games.”
His lips curl up even more. “You think my father would spare the daughter of a traitor for two years out of mercy?”
His voice drops to a dangerous tone. “You’re not a guest here. You’re here for a purpose. And it’s certainly not to be passed around by brothers like some floozy. You’re leverage. A prize. A fuse. Don’t complicate or worsen things by making the mistake of thinking you matter.”
With that, he walks away, leaving me stunned beyond words.
