“Oh, um, thank you.” I’m seated in the bed now, and Lea does a few more stretches next to me.
“I see Leonessa has introduced herself.” After putting the clean towels in the bathroom, Sophia enters the bedroom again and picks Lea up. “Apologies, she tends to sleep anywhere she pleases, gattino viziato gatto! Spoiled kitty cat!
Watching the way she holds the cat, cuddling her, and seeing how Lea doesn’t fight back tells me all I need to know. “She’s your cat?”
“Yes. Now, you’ll find some underwear in the bags as well, I hope everything is to your liking. I’ll bring you breakfast soon!”
Before I can even open my mouth to respond, she leaves, locking the door once more behind her. I search through the bags to find dresses, underwear, jeans, and tops, all of which are new with tags and expensive as hell. They’re all from the kind of brands you see listed next to the celebrity pictures in People Magazine. I’m a little taken back by this at first, confused by the meaning of such a kind gesture, but then it hits me.
“I’m not just a prisoner, I’m his prisoner, aren’t I?” Even as the question leaves my mouth, I know the answer. I mean, he even got my size right. Poor Sophia must have been out late last night, buying these clothes. Then again, maybe they were delivered to the house. I did hear somewhere that top brands are very accommodating to mafia families since their women wear only the best of the best. I choose a pair of pretty black lace underwear with a matching bra, before slipping into the softest, most vibrant orange dress. It’s long and flowing, and so comfortable I could sleep in it. Well, I mean, I could. What else am I going to do?
* * *
The daylight has already floodedin through the windows and I can hear people talking out in the courtyard. A look outside, and all I see is a group of men gathered together, smoking. It reminds me of how the boys in school used to group up in one corner of the yard. A car pulls up to the front as I’m still looking, and the door flings open.
Out walks Antonio, with Vinnie and another guy I don’t recognize. Antonio is wearing the same shirt and pants he had on when he came to see me. I don’t hide the fact that I’m watching—in fact, I want him to look up to my window, to be reminded that I’m here, waiting, but he doesn’t even glance. He just enters the house with the expression of a man who’s had a bad night. A bit of a situation, Vinnie had said, whatever that means.
As if hoping to hear his voice from down the hall, to hear anything of what’s going on in this house, I run over to the door and listen. Nothing–the only sound my ears pick up is the distant hum of a vacuum cleaner. Then, that gets shut off and is replaced by the thudding of feet that get louder, along with a peculiar rattling of metal. I bend down and try to see something through the keyhole, but it’s blocked by what I’m guessing is the key.
Suddenly the sounds stop, and the door unlocks. I jump back and sit at the table, pretending as if I was there the whole time.
“Brought you some breakfast,” says the same maid who brought me the clothes, Sophia. She walks over to me and places a tray with a metal cloche covering the plate. Just as I wonder about how easy it might be to run out of the room right now, a man with a broad black blazer lets himself be seen at the doorway. I guess they’re not so naive.
“Mr. Moretti sends his apologies in advance,” Sophia informs me.
“His apologies?” I ask.
“Mr. Moretti has been called away on business,” the man in the doorway says as he steps in, his thick hands making wide gestures as he speaks. “He said that you aren’t to leave the room until his return.”
“Until his return? I just saw him enter the house.”
Sophia allows us to speak as she makes her exit past the man hastily. Clearly, she’s less chatty with the prisoner when these bodyguards are around.
“Yeah,” the man replies, taking a hold of the door handle. “As I said, Mr. Moretti sends his apologies.”
Then the door is shut, and the lock is turned. I suppose I better get used to that sound.
Whether it was his intention or not, I feel a hint of anger, no, jealousy rise up, almost as if I’ve been stood up on a date. As if him not wanting to come to me again is an offense instead of a blessing. Jesus, have I lost my mind? Have I had some kind of momentary lapse in my sanity?
The more I think about it, the more questioning my sanity seems to be the sanest thing I’ve done since I was brought here. How could I let myself get carried away by some perverse desire to be ravished by the man who took me from my house at gunpoint? This isn’t some kind of temporary solution until my father pays his debts because he’s not going to pay his debts. They’re too great, aren’t they? Too much that even if my papa robbed every store in our town, he would still be short on what he owed—and Antonio knows that doesn’t he? They all do.
I move back towards the window, and sure enough, Antonio soon leaves the house. Now he’s wearing a fitted black suit, the kind that still shows his muscular physique. God, why am I so attracted to him? This time he stops before getting into the car and turns to look up at me while unbuttoning his suit jacket. Even though our eyes lock, neither one of us gestures to each other. We just look, sharing something that I’m not completely positive I know how to explain. A driver opens the door for him, and he gets in. I guess he wasn’t lying about being absent.
The food they gave me is an egg white omelet, which smells good, though my appetite seems less than enthusiastic right now. The food will just end up getting cold, as I’m already getting the sense that my day will pass in a blur of mental imagery, more so with the fact that I don’t have any books, my phone, or anything in the room with me to act as a distraction.
Soon enough I’m proven right when it becomes a real struggle to divert my mind away from Antonio. The only relief I get is when I hear shouting from the courtyard outside. Quickly I go and open the window, which has security bars on the exterior– although elegant, they actively reinforce the fact that I’m held captive. I’m still able to open the window slightly, though, to be able to see and hear what’s happening outside.
The voice I hear is a girl out by the front door of the house. She has beautiful, long dark brown hair that’s been straightened perfectly, and is wearing a bright pink mini-dress, matching purse, and gorgeous heels. Wow, it’s not my style but I can respect her for rocking it so hard. In any case, she’s telling a couple of bald guys in leather jackets to stop following her.
“I told you, I don’t need you to protect me!”
The two guys shrug at the woman’s shouting as if this has happened before, and one of them says something about just following orders, but after that, his voice becomes hard to understand from my window. It’s almost like watching one of those shows on TV—you know the kind where everyone just ends up screaming at each other, not to say that I’m above all that because even now I try to reach my head out as far as the security bars allow. Apparently, it’s too far to still be inconspicuous because the girl, with a sudden glance up, points me out to the men.
“And who the fuck is that?! What, we’re a fucking prison now?!” The men follow her finger and look straight at me. “Fucking hell, just get me out of here, and I swear to God you two better make yourself invisible when we get there!”
A black SUV pulls round and takes the woman, along with her apparent bodyguards, away from the house. I guess it’s obvious enough, but she must be a Moretti too, possibly Antonio’s sister. I watch the car disappear out of view. With the window open, a gentle breeze enters the room, and it’s only then that I sit down and begin to pick at the food they gave me. To my surprise, it still tastes good. I take my time with each mouthful, wondering if tonight I’ll get another knock on the door.