Page 37 of Veil of Vengeance

“Basement. Now!” I shout, my voice loud enough to echo. We watch them as they all scatter to go down the spiral staircase. Everyone follows the order, and Romiro laughs as he shakes his head.

“It never ceases to amaze me how they all scram like fucking rats, but always have shit to say behind the family’s back.”

CHAPTER 11

VALENTINA

I’m lying on the bed, trying to summon an ounce of sleep. I toss to my left and then to my right. Huffing, I roll onto my back. My chest constricts as I think of Mom, Violette, Marcello, and Monica. I really hope Dad hasn’t taken out his anger on them. My eyes begin to sting, and I rub them with the heel of my palms. Sighing, I sit up and throw the covers off. I’ve showered, changed the clothes I had on from Doctor Callahan, and I still can’t sleep.

I look over to the balcony window, debating whether I should go out there. My curiosity gets the best of me, and I slide the balcony glass doors open. A cool breeze drifts in, cooling my hot cheeks. It smells like rain, but it hasn’t rained today, which means the clouds are brimming with rain droplets. I step out onto the cool surface of the glass balcony. I can see that the garden is an array of lush oranges, browns, and reds, even in the middle of fall, when everything is dying and nothing seems to be as beautiful. Resting my elbows on the rod of the balcony, I wonder if I’ll ever get this sense of peace ever again. Even if I am in enemy territory.

My hand snaps to my cheek as I feel a singular wet droplet land on my cheek. I’m not crying again, am I? I feel my other cheek to see if I have started to cry without realizing it, but my cheek feels dry. I look up, and once I do, it begins to drizzle light rain. I don’t go back inside. I stay out on the balcony and let the sensation of feeling rain cascade down my body. The smell of grass in my lungs and my hair sticks to the sides of my face. Rain begins to pound on the ground harder, soaking the garden, and slowly a mist forms in the air. I take that as my cue to go back inside. A shiver slithers down my back and goosebumps pepper my arms. I rub my palms over them, trying to make them go away. When it doesn’t work, I decide to go take another shower. Afterwards, I slip back into the bed, the bed creaking as I readjust for the third time, but sleep continues to evade me even as I close my eyes and count to three hundred. I give up, trying to fall asleep when I notice the first rays of sunshine peeking through the balcony doors. Looking at the bedside table that has an alarm clock on it, it reads six-thirty in the morning.

Sitting up, I rub my palms over my face and groan loudly. Frustration doesn’t even cover the level of pissed off I am. I quietly tread toward the door and flip the lock open. The door is silent as I carefully lower the door handle and open it an inch. “Go back inside, miss.” Fuck. That asshole was serious when he said he’ll put a security guard outside. Shutting the door with a thud, I turn the lock. I lean against it before walking to the small armchair and coffee table in the corner.

It’s not until around seven-thirty that there is a knock on the door.

“Hey, Valentina, it’s me, Mariana. I’m here to check on you and to see if you’d like to come down for breakfast,” Mariana says. I hesitate to open the door when I reach it, but my hesitation quickly dissolves when my stomach growls and I feel a dull pain in my lower abdomen. Mariana stands a couple of steps away from the door with a small smile gracing her face.

“Morning, how did you sleep?” she asks, and I plaster on a smile.

“Well, thank you.” The lie comes out smoothly, and a flicker of guilt nags me before I douse it. I can see the bodyguard at my door, standing in the far corner of the hallway with his eyes on us, unwavering. It sends an uneasy feeling settling into the pit of my stomach. I shake it off when an arm loops through my own and drags me toward the staircase.

“I didn’t know what kind of food you like to eat for breakfast, so I had the chef make some pancakes, eggs, sausage, a fruit salad, and some other things.” She waves her hand around as she tells me what to expect at breakfast. Mara, and another woman, and two other young men are sitting at the dining table. They seem to be engaged in a conversation.

“No, I don’t think that’s fair because you guys can do whatever you want, and when I try to go out with my friends, you guys flip your shit.” Mara spears her pancakes after she finishes her statement. Mariana clears her throat.

“This is Valentina. Valentina, that's my sister, Clarissa, and those two are Matteo and Lucio, my sons. You’ve already met Mara, I suppose.” She points at the woman on the right of Mara and the two boys who sit on the opposite side of the table.

I nod at everyone and mutter, “Hello.” Mariana all but drags me toward the two empty seats beside Mara. She motions for me to take the seat between her and Mara.

There is a beat of silence before it is broken by the voice of one of the boys.

“So, are you going to be a part of the family?”

I look up with my eyes darting between them. Only one of them is looking at me, and he’s the one with the long lashes and strong jaw. His eyes are eager and teasing. I deflate a little when I see that he’s just messing with me.

“No, I’d rather be burned alive than join the Camorra.” I bite my tongue as soon as I realize how ungrateful I sound to the women around me. When my eyes dart to Mariana, I find that she’s just giving me a sad smile. I open my mouth to apologize, but she just shakes her head.

“No, I understand why you said what you just did. You have a right. My son hasn’t exactly brought you here out of your own will.”

I nod and give her a grim smile. The air feels so thick I can cut it with a knife.

The woman, Clarissa, speaks up, “I heard you’ll be able to come to the picnic today. Do you have any allergies we should be aware of?” A small smile graces her lips.

“No, I don’t, but thank you for asking.”

The rest of the morning is spent finishing breakfast and avoiding talk that might tread near sensitive topics.

* * *

My hands shakeas I debate whether to go outside and see the garden. Instead of doing the right thing and heading back upstairs, I slide the glass doors open and step outside. A light fall breeze drifts over me and the sound of leaves rustling fills my ears. I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear as I make my way toward the huge greenhouse. It’s made up of glass and foliage snaking the sides of the building, adding a beautiful edge to it. I peek my head in through the open door, the inside just as breathtaking as the outside. The floor is a mosaic of greens, blues, yellows, and oranges. When I step inside, the humidity feels like a layer on my skin and the earthy smell of the dirt fills my lungs. In the middle of the room, a water fountain with a marble bench, and a spiral staircase to the far back of the greenhouse.

“What are you doing in here?” a deep voice asks. I press my lips together, wincing before I turn around to face an infuriated Emiliano. “I asked you a question, Valentina. I expect an answer.” He’s standing by the door, watching through narrowed eyes, his fist clenched around what looks like gloves. He’s wearing some joggers and a wife beater; it’s kind of weird to see him in casual clothes.

“I…I just wanted to get some air.” I almost wince at the stupid explanation. Of course, I shouldn’t be exploring. This isn’t some friend's house. Emiliano cocks his head to the right as he regards me before he sighs and makes his way past me to the spiral staircase. He stops at the foot of the stairs and turns to look at me.

“Are you just going to stand there like an idiot, or are you going to follow me?” he asks condescendingly. I give him the finger before making my way toward him. He takes the stairs two at a time, and I have to bend my head as I make my way up because of the dangling lavender flowerpots. Emiliano is standing near the top of the stairs with his arms crossed over his chest when I finally approach.

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