And then I open my door and nearly run into Annette, and all of it flies out of my head.
“What are you doing up here?” I ask, a little more harshly than I mean to. “There’s plenty of bathrooms on the first and second floors.”
“I’m sorry.” She smiles at me in a way that doesn’t seem nearly as apologetic as it ought to. “I think I got lost. Went up one flight of stairs too many. You know how it can be in these huge houses. You grew up in one, after all.”
“Didn’t you?” I look at her curiously.
“No.” That insincere smile is still plastered across her mouth. “My family was a lesser one. I was very fortunate that my husband crossed paths with me, and fell so madly in love with me.”
“And are you still? Madly in love?” I know it’s not a polite question, but I can’t help but ask. Everything about Annette feels forced, from her presence in my home to the slightest bit of pleasantness.
“Aren’t we all?” The smile on her mouth doesn’t waver, but it also doesn’t reach her eyes. “Again, I’m sorry for losing my way.”
“It’s alright.” I motion towards the stairs, and she leads the way as I follow, falling a little behind as we head down the staircase. It’s not until I’ve almost reached the back door that leads out to the hot tub that I realize she’s not with me any longer.
She hadn’t changed yet, so I assume she must have gone to do that in one of the downstairs bathrooms. The other wives are already in the hot tub, a spread of snacks and champagne and sparkling water laid out to one side, and I shake off the uneasy feeling. After all, I can’t imagine that all of the wives are entirely fooled by my demeanor. They must know I’m not entirely happy, and just ignore it for the sake of ‘how things are.’
It takes another fifteen minutes, at least, for Annette to join us. She slips into the hot tub, murmuring that she’s once again sorry that she got so turned around, but I can’t help feeling that it rings false. I tell myself that I’m just being paranoid, that Annette might not be friendly, but that doesn’t mean she’s lying to me about anything.
Until all the wives finally leave in the late afternoon, and I go back up to my room. I know immediately that something is off. I can’t putmy finger on what—but I’ve always been a habitual person. I always leave my things in the same places. Celeste has been cognizant of that, replacing my toiletries, makeup bag, and jewelry dish exactly where they were before when she cleans, along with any other items. It takes me a moment to figure it out—until I realize that my makeup bag is sitting very close to the edge of the vanity, not next to the mirror where I usually tuck it.
My heart is pounding as I go to unzip it, fear spreading through me before I even have a chance to dig through it to the bottom. I already know what I’ll find before my fingers brush the surface, a terrible certainty settling over me.
The pills are gone.
16
ANDRE
“Ithought we’d planned to meet later this week.” I settle into a chair in Don Gaeta’s study, accepting the glass of cognac that he hands me. “Are the others not here yet?”
“This is a private meeting.” Gaeta sits down in the chair opposite me, his expression smooth. “There’s something we need to speak about that I thought it would be better for the others not to hear.”
Apprehension curls in my stomach. Out of all of my newfound allies, I feel the most uncertain about Gaeta. The others will follow Amalfi, I feel certain of that—and Amalfi’s loyalty is without question. He might not feel that he owes it to me, but he certainly feels that he owes it to my father and my father’s memory, and that’s enough. But Gaeta has always seemed to be waiting, watching for a crack in my plans. Something that he could exploit and prove that I’m not as capable of achieving my ends as the others have been convinced that I am. I’m not sure why, exactly—he stands to benefit more from my success than my failure, especially since he’s allied himself with me. But I can’t shake the feeling.
“What could that be?” I offer him a relaxed smile, as if there’s nothing in the world that could possibly be wrong. Truthfully, I’m not sure what itcouldbe. I don’t have any idea what he might know thatcould cause such dramatics, and that I would want to keep the others from knowing.
“Your wife is very precious to you, isn’t she?” Gaeta smiles, but to my eyes, it looks almost predatory. As if he’s baited a trap and is waiting for me to walk into it. “After all, Lucia Fontana—I’m sorry,Leone—is the reason that you’ve been able to leverage these connections. Having her as your wife has enabled you to build an alliance against her father that you never would have been able to on your own.”
“My marriage is a very fortunate one, yes. What is your point, Gaeta?” I narrow my eyes at him. I wonder, for a moment, if he’s uncovered something about the circumstances of my marriage. If that’s the case, I’m not all that concerned. It matters very little nowhowI married Lucia, only that I have.
“If she doesn’t give you an heir, that marriage is less valuable, though, isn’t it?” Gaeta raises an eyebrow. “Without someone to follow you, all that you’re doing will be handed over to someone else, in the end. And if your wife fails to produce an heir soon, your allies may begin to question the wisdom of turning against the established leader.”
“I am certainly doing my best.” I smirk at him, tilting my glass towards his in a faux toast. “But I’m told these things can take time.”
“Of course. Although—it’s a bit more difficult when your own wife is actively preventing you from conceiving.”
It takes everything in me to keep my expression neutral. “That’s quite an accusation, Gaeta. And an unfounded one. I’m sure you can imagine that I keep a close eye on my wife—”
“Not close enough. Annette?”
As if waiting for her husband to call her in, the doors open, and Gaeta’s tall, painfully thin wife walks in. Her brown hair is loose around her face, and she looks pale, but she steps into the study and closes the door. Nothing about her is appealing to me, and I wonder what it was that made Gaeta marry her. She wasn’t from a good family. Butsomethingmade him choose her, and as I look at her thin face and nervous expression, I have an inkling as to what it might be.
This is a woman that he managed to exert power over. He took her out of a lesser family and made her into something better, and I would bet that he holds that knowledge over her head every day of their lives. That she does whatever he wishes, because of what she owes him.
At least I married up.I keep the thought to myself as I look at Gaeta and his wife, letting my annoyance show through just a little.
“I hope that you’re going to tell me what’s going on, and not simply waste my time,” I tell him coolly. “Is there something that your wife has to tell me that you can’t?”