Page 39 of Vicious Heir

Chapter 12

Lucy

Ialmost forget where I am. Unfamiliar light streams through strange windows and sends shadows across a ceiling I’ve never seen before.

Then the dreams come back. A building shaking, women screaming, men shoving me along.

Slowly, I sit up in bed and look around at Adriano’s room.

It all happened. The car bomb, the fire. Adriano hurrying me out of there like I was the only person in the world that mattered. Then later, taking a shower, putting on strange clothes that are just a little bit too tight. Kennedy’s text, saying she’s alright, thanks to Adriano’s men. Grandmother’s ominous silence. But I’m sure she’s fine too. I doubt I’m lucky enough for her to have died in that attack.

The bed beside me is cold and untouched.

Adriano slept somewhere else last night.

I get up and use the bathroom. I’m in a pair of tight sweats and a little t-shirt that clings to my breasts. Bianca is a size smaller than me, and her stuff just barely fits.

It occurs to me, almost as an afterthought, that I’m married.

After cleaning up, I step out into the hallway. The massive house is silent. It’s an old mansion deep in the heart of South Philadelphia, in an area Grandmother would’ve calledItalian trash. From the glimpse I got on the outside, it takes up nearly this whole block and is set back from the sidewalks by a tall fence with modern security features like cameras and electronic gates.

I should be safe here.

But safe from whom?

Not sure what else to do, I go looking for my husband. I make it down the stairs when I almost run right into an older woman carrying a big laundry bag filled with clothes. She lets out a surprised grunt, and I apologize a billion times when she drops it all on the floor.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I’m not watching where I’m going.”

I get down and help her pick things up. I shove men’s clothing back into the bag. “Sorry, I should’ve been louder. I just don’t know where I’m going, honestly.”

The woman stops and stares at me. She’s got dark hair and dark eyes with little smile crinkles around her eyes. “You’re Adriano’s wife.”

“Lucy,” I say, shoving a pair of underwear away.

“My name’s Donatella. I’m Adriano’s father’s aide. My, you really are pretty. Lucky Adriano. And here he was, worried aboutthe whole arrangement. Seems to have worked out nicely for him.”

I blush a little, not sure how to take that. “He was worried?”

“That man worries about everything, not that he’ll ever let you know it. Thank you for helping, dear.” She hefts the bag up.

“Do you know where he is right now?”

“In his office, I’d expect. If you’re hungry, head into the kitchen. I can come by and fix you something if you’d like.”

“No, that’s totally okay. You don’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense. I more or less manage the house these days.” She sighs and looks back over her shoulder. “Not much I can do about poor Salvatore, except keep him company. He sleeps most of the day away.”

“I’ll just go find Adriano.”

“Suit yourself. Come to the kitchen when you like.” She gives me directions to Adriano’s office, shoots me a warm smile, and walks off.

I watch her go, happy that at least one person in this strange house seems nice enough. I walk down a few more halls, staring at the opulence and the sheer display of wealth around me. I’m from a well-off family, but even I find this place a little over the top. Grandmother would be losing her mind. She’d scowl at everything and make these little clucking noises like a judgmental hen. I can even hear her now:tacky people build tacky things.

Adriano’s office is tucked in the back corner of the house. The door is left slightly ajar, and I can hear a soft voice inside. Iknock lightly, then push it open, and I find him sitting behind a large executive desk, a phone glued to the side of his face.

He looks exhausted. His eyes are red-rimmed and bag-lined. He’s still in the same suit from the wedding, though the jacket’s been discarded and his top two buttons are undone, showing off a splash of black tattoo ink and a muscular chest. I have no idea why, but I find him even more attractive right now. There’s something about how rumpled he is, how worn down, how vulnerable. Like he’s an actual man, but one that works hard.

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