My Bug looks so out of place in this driveway.
I squint at Paolo’s house, if it can even be called that. What’s a fancier word for house? Estate? Whatever. Point is, it’s huge, upscale, and someplace I do not belong.
My sweaty grip on the steering wheel loosens, but I don’t get out of the car, and I don’t stop staring at the three-story brick building. Flower beds I’m sure I’ll never be allowed to touch line the perimeter, and at the left of the property, there’s one of those warrior statues you only see on a public walkway. Vines crawl over the man, and I wonder if it’s supposed to symbolize something. Maybe the vines are ropes. Maybe the warrior is Paolo’s prisoner.
Just like me.
It seems impossible to think that in less than a month’s time, this will be my prison.
There’s an SUV parked next to me that’s running, and I can feel the stare of whoever is in the driver’s seat. The windows are too tinted to see anyone inside, so I stopped looking a few minutes ago. I can’t work up the courage to go knock on the door.
Another few minutes go by before my future husband appears, stepping outside and storming to my car. He swings the car door open and slaps his hand on the frame. He leans down to see me. I flinch and bring my hands to my lap.
“What the hell are you doing?” he snaps. “I told you to be here a half hour ago.”
I open my mouth, but before words come out, I decide against telling him I’ve been here for ten minutes. Only twenty minutes late.
He stares at me, waiting for an explanation, and when I close my mouth, he bristles and shakes his head. “Get the fuck out of the car,” he sneers before standing straight and taking a step back.
I climb out of the car on shaky legs and swallow as I stand in front of him.
He’s never asked me to come to his house before. He’s never asked me to bealonewith him before. This is the first time he’s showing me my new home, and I don’t guess it’s a welcoming gesture. But I also don’t know what it is he wants, and that makes this all the more nerve wracking. I had to leave my class at the Art Institute to be here, and he knows my schedule. So, either he doesn’t care about it, or this is something that can’t wait.
Paolo grabs my arm and drags me toward the waiting SUV.
“Wait.” I jerk from his hold and back up a step. “What are we doing?”
“Does it matter?” He huffs and looks me up and down. “You’re so fucking insubordinate, you know that? Show up on time, do what I say, and please, for the love of God, be quiet.”
I narrow my eyes and back up another step. “I don’t know what kind of deal you made with my father, but I’m not your property, Paolo. I’m a person. I had to leave my class for this, so if anyone is inconvenienced here, it’s me.” I speak with confidence I don’t feel inside.
In reality, we both know I’m wrong. Iamhis property. He could beat me. Rape me.Killme. All while wearing his wedding ring. That’s the way it works in this world. Laws mean nothing. The police department is a joke. The familia is the one who writes the laws in this world, and they say anything goes.
To my absolute amazement, Paolo’s anger gradually deflates into his usual irritation. He runs his hand through his hair and looks up while taking a deep breath. He drops his hand and meets my eyes.
“Do you want me to be perfectly honest with you, Alexa?”
I hesitate, my heart stuttering. After a few moments, I nod.
“You’re nothing to me. I’m sure you’re a person with hopes and dreams, but I just can’t bring myself to care. I’m sorry, I’ve tried to, but I just… don’t. I don’t want to be in this marriage any more than you do, but here we are.” Paolo steps up to me, and I resist the urge to move back. He cups my chin and squeezes, digging his fingers into my jaw hard enough that I wince. “So why don’t we make a deal, hm?”
When I respond only with a glare, he continues.
“You play the part of the obedient wife. Do whatever I ask, without question. And in return, I’ll leave you alone. You can keep going to your classes, talk to your family, whatever it is you want to do. And if you don’t…” His tone turns menacing, and his grip tightens. I whimper and grab his hand, but he doesn’t ease up. “Then you will not leave your room. You won’t have a phone or visit anyone you used to know. There will be no remnants of your past life.” He takes another breath and flicks his gaze from my jaw to my eyes. “You’ll be the victim you believe you already are.”
He lets go, and my hands fly to my face. I massage my jaw in an attempt to rub the pain away. It doesn’t work, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as Paolo’s words.
“What do you think?” he asks.
My eyes are on the ground, and I don’t look up as I nod. Tears well in my eyes, and it’s like I’m finding out for the first time that my freedom is expiring. It never gets old.
“Fine,” I grit.
“Splendid.”
Paolo grabs my arm, and I don’t fight him as he drags me to the SUV. He opens the door, and I climb in. The man in the driver’s seat says nothing and doesn’t make eye contact with me when I look at him in the rearview mirror. He’s Italian, probably in his forties. Tattooed barbed wire weaves up his neck. I bet he’s as dangerous as the rest of these gangsters.
Paolo walks around the SUV, and I expect him to get into the passenger seat, but to my surprise he climbs in next to me.