Page 17 of Wicked Vows
Rats.The drawers are locked.I feel around under the middle drawer for a key.Bingo.I slide the magnetic cover back, and the key falls into my awaiting palm.The first drawer holds nothing other than some financial records for one of his offshore accounts.I already knew Nico was loaded, but seeing those numbers is jarring.
He has more money than God.
I close the door carefully to leave his papers how I found them.
There are some contracts.Lease agreements.Shipping details.
But the folder that captures my attention is the one containing surveillance photos of Marco meeting with Frankie.There’s no notes.Nothing telling me why they were together or why Nico has these photographs.The whispers start up again.I glance around the room, wondering if Catherine’s ghost is hiding behind one of the shelves.Is it her eyes I feel on me?I put the folder back in place.In the last drawer, I find a picture frame lying face down.I flip it over, and it’s her.Catherine.She’s sitting on the bench in the garden.The one near her grave.
She was beautiful.Long curly dark hair.Skin smooth and fair as porcelain.She’s dressed in a red dress similar to the one I wore to dinner.In the background, there’s a man out of frame.I can’t make out his face, but I think it’s Marco based on his height and hair color.
“This was Catherine’s favorite room,” a male voice says.
I glance up to find Marco leaning against the doorway watching me.How long has he been standing there?“Were the two of you close?”
He shrugs.“You could say that.”
“You must miss her,” I say, slipping the frame under a stack of papers.
“Nico left her alone too much.”He pulls out a lighter and flicks the flame off and on, repeating the motion.
Does he know I went to the east Ttower?Did he start the fire?
“They fought a lot.She grew lonely.Started spending time with me.Nico grew jealous…,” he trails off.
I know what he’s implying.That he had an affair with Catherine or Nico suspected it.Killed her in a rage of passion.Is he warning the same will happen to me?
“I should get to bed.”
“My brother is a busy man with a wandering eye and a jealous streak.You should be careful.I’d hate for something to happen to you.Beautiful women disappear around him.”
“Thanks for the warning, brother.”
“You ever get lonely, sister?My room is on the second floor.”He reads my disgusted expression and chuckles.
He’s testing me.Seeing if I’m loyal to Nico.
“Noted.”I try to slip past him, but he grabs me by the wrist, jerking me against his body.I pull away and shove against his chest.
“You’re a feisty little thing.”
“Never put your hands on me again.”
“That’s what they all say at first,” he calls out after me as I make a run for my room.
I lock the door behind me and sink down to the floor.Is Marco implying that he was having an affair with Catherine?Were they in love?I have more questions than I started with.
The shadows offer no answers.My heartbeat is the only measure of time.The beats thump in my ears, nearly covering the sound of those dreaded whispers that mock me and leave me restless.I think back to my last moments with Nico before he left for the city.
He pressed his mouth to mine — hot, deliberate, and demanding.He kissed me as though he didn’t want to let me go or as though he was afraid it was for the last time.But which one?
I won’t find any solace or the answers I seek sitting here on the floor.I retreat to the bed, hiding under my blankets.Closing my eyes, I pray for sleep.Eventually, the house goes quiet, and my eyes flutter on the verge of entering dreamland.Then I hear it tickling the back of my mind.A soft thread of a whisper.I hold my breath, as though doing so will help me hear better.I imagine the humming sound belongs to Catherine.Well, her ghost.
Is she watching me?Is she trying to warn me or scare me?
I awaken alone and freezing.At some point, I must have kicked all my covers to the floor.I suffered another night of fitful sleep.My legs ache with restlessness.Nico’s absence is pressing down on me heavily in a way I wasn’t expecting.I wasn’t prepared to miss his presence this greatly.Our marriage is meant to be a transaction.Two names signed on the appropriate lines.All the boxes checked.We both come from a world founded on tradition.
One weighted by expectations, duty, and honor.Is it wrong to want my husband to want me?Is it wrong to crave his touch?To dream of his kiss?
