Page 75 of The Bonventi Secret
I nod, blinking back tears. Even Antonio, who's shown me nothing but kindness since I arrived, has his limits when it comes to Enzo's commands.
"Thank you. Also, could you tell Marcella I'm not hungry tonight?"
"My dear, you can't skip dinner. It's not good for you," Antonio says.
I shrug, "Well, I'm not hungry, and I don't want to waste it."
Antonio's face turns to concern. "Are you sure? It's only 2 o'clock, how about I come ask you in a few hours?"
I shake my head. "No, that's okay."
He sighs and walks out.
I wrap my hands around the warm cup, grateful for this small kindness.
Taking a sip, the tea scalds my tongue, but I welcome the pain. It's better than this emptiness, this waiting. I've never felt more alone, more trapped. The guards, the servants, the whole mansion seems to be holding its breath, waiting for Enzo's verdict.
What hurts most is knowing he's here, somewhere in these walls. Close enough to touch, yet further away than ever.
I take another sip of tea, letting the hot liquid burn away the lump in my throat.
I reach for my phone, but there are no missed calls, no messages. I decide to dial Megan's number again, pacing as it rings.
"Come on, Megan," I mutter. "Pick up, pick up, pick up."
But once again, it goes to voicemail. I hang up without leaving a message. What would I say anyway? Hey, Megan, I've royally screwed up my arranged marriage to a mafia don by snooping through his family secrets, and now he won't even look at me. Any advice?
I finish my tea, the warmth doing little to soothe the ache in my chest. I decide to let the tea take any effect it can on me and make my way to our bedroom so I can take a nap.
As I approach the door, I hear movement inside. My heart leaps, thinking it might be Enzo, but when I push the door open, I'm greeted by an unfamiliar sight.
A young woman in a black uniform, one of the household staff I've seen around but never spoken to, is methodically folding my clothes and placing them in an open suitcase on the bed. My chest tightens as I watch her pack away my life here, piece by piece.
"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice sounding accusatory.
The woman jumps slightly, obviously not expecting me. "Oh, Miss Falcone," she says, her eyes darting nervously between me and the suitcase. "I'm just following orders."
"Orders? Whose orders?" I say, but I already know the answer.
She hesitates, her hands still holding onto my blouse. "Mr. Bonventi's, ma'am."
Even though I know, hearing her say it makes the room spin, and something snaps inside of me.
"So this is his decision? He's throwing me out without even facing me?" I march to the bed, yanking the blouse from her hands. "What a fucking coward."
The maid steps back, eyes wide. "Miss, I—I don't know anything. I'm just following orders."
"Of course you are." I say, gripping my blouse tightly. "Everyone in this goddamn house just follows orders." I grab my skull pendant, squeezing until the edges dig into my palm. "Tell your boss if he wants to get rid of me, he can look me in the eyes and do it himself."
The woman looks terrified, and a small part of me feels guilty for yelling at her.
"I'm sorry," I say, not sure if I'm apologizing to her or to myself. "I can't, I can't be here right now."
I can't breathe. Can't think. I storm out of the room and down the stairs and nearly collide with Alex in the hallway.
"Take me somewhere," I demand. "Anywhere. I don't care where."
Alex's expression remains neutral. "I can take you to the library or back to your room. Those are my only authorized destinations."
