I notice the way the blue of his eyes sparkles. The bright smile on his face, though, is something foreign to me.
“These are all truly amazing,” I say.
“They are. I guess Massimo must have thought you’d be more at home inside here. He came in here early to finish setting up the room for you,” she answers.
My mouth goes dry. “What? He set up the room for me?” I stare at her in disbelief. She nods.
“It was more of a storage room. He never invites anyone in here. But he brought those in the other day, and I helped him clean the place up.”
She points to the corner of the room. I turn to see a stack of boxes and an easel set up by the large archway overlooking the beach.
The boxes look familiar. I move to them and gasp when I recognize them. They’re mine. My boxes I packed my paintings in, and all my art supplies. Everything I was going to take with me to Florence. The realization makes me rush right over. The boxes are open and set up so I can finish arranging the contents. Candace has a bright smile on her face. An uncontrollable tear tracks down my cheek as I rasp out a ragged breath.
I didn’t realize just how much I missed my art. Having my clothes was nice and eased my mind. But… this calms my soul.
“Hey, there,” Candace says when I wipe away the tear with the heel of my hand. “You okay, Emelia?”
“No,” I answer because that’s the truth. I’m not okay.
This act of kindness has placed me in a tailspin, a whirlwind of flux. I don’t know right from wrong, or who to trust. It would be easier to hate Massim
o if he behaved like the monster I met in my father’s office. The same monster who locked me in that room and chained me to the bed. Naked, to teach me a lesson. It would be easier if he were truly awful. Him doing this for me makes me wonder how I’m supposed to feel.
“Be strong, Emelia. Be strong and listen to your heart.”
“I don’t know about that, Candace. Listening to my heart would make me betray my father.” God…I’ve probably said too much.
She shakes her head. “Think of yourself. Nobody else. In the end, that’s what you have to do to survive this game. You can’t think of anybody else. The moment you do, you lose yourself.” She taps my shoulder and gives me a reassuring smile. “I’ll leave you to get reacquainted with your stuff.”
She gives me a curt nod. I get that sensation again that she’s leaving because she doesn’t want to say more.
I watch her go. The door closes, and I’m left to my thoughts and the beauty of the art surrounding me.
Pulling in a deep breath, I decide to look around at the paintings on the walls. I want to see what kind of woman Massimo’s mother was before I dive into my own painting.
I walk to the painting Candace showed me earlier and find myself staring at Massimo, at his eyes. I can tell from the way his mother painted that she worked with emotion. It’s embedded in the brushstrokes of the painting. The hues and gradients she used in the background texture all work together to create its own story. This was a happy day she painted.
Massimo said my father made sure his family lost everything. This was a day before that happened to them.
What must my father have really done? What cruel thing did he do? The more I think about it, the more I realize I don’t know him. And I don’t know who the monsters are in this story.
I thought it was my husband-to-be.
Now I’m not so sure.
I really am the princess in the tower if I continue to pretend that I think my father is a saint. I know he got his hands dirty. I know he did bad things.
He must have committed pure evil, however, for Massimo and his family to hate us so much.
In the deepest corner of my heart, there’s a place that doesn’t want him to hate me.
Chapter Nineteen
Massimo
I walk into the hall and see her.
I was right. She looks at home in here. The same way Ma’s paintings look like they belong.