Page 58 of The One
“All seems in order,” Rom tells me, stepping up next to me and bringing me back to the present.
“Great. Can you call by the club and make sure everything arrives there? I’m going home. I need to catch up on a ton of emails.”
When I get home, though, I’m restless. My fingers tap against the desk, my eyes skimming over the screen without absorbing a single word.
A sense of unease coils in my gut. I rub my thumb over my lips, back and forth. Something isn’t right.
What if it’s Mariella? But Antonio has returned to Sicily. She’s safe here.
Still, the unease lingers.
Fuck it. I’ll just check on her.
As I wander through the house, my gaze instinctively searches for her. But she’s not in the garden, by the pool, or in the library, the places I know she likes to spend her time.
I could check her room, but if she’s there, what the hell would I even say?
Instead, I head to the kitchen. If anyone knows where Mariella is, it’s Giulia.
She looks up surprised, when I enter her domain.
“Signor De Marco, I didn’t expect you until later. Would you like an espresso with a slice oftorta della nonna?” she asks with a warm smile. “It’s fresh out of the oven.”
“Thank you. Perhaps later. Do you know where Mariella is?” I keep my tone casual, like it’s just a passing question, nothing more. The last thing I want is to alert Giulia, or anyone else, to my rising interest in the girl.
“Mariella? Oh, she’s not here. Do you need her for something?”
“What do you mean, she’s not here?”
“I sent her sightseeing in Rome this morning,” Giulia replies. “She’s been cooped up in the house since she arrived, and she always sounded so excited about exploring the old monuments.”
Her words hang in the air, twisting my stomach.
Fuck!
It’s not safe for her to be out there alone.
What if her father has men watching, waiting for her to step outside these walls so they can drag her back to Sicily? Or worse, what if our enemies are lurking nearby? They don’t spare women in this war we’ve entered.
A chill rushes through me. I have to find her.
“Has something happened?” Giulia asks, her voice edged with worry.
It better not have. Or there’ll be hell to pay.
I ignore her question.
“Who took her into the city?” I demand, my voice clipped now.
“Gustavo.”
I turn to leave the kitchen, not catching anything else Giulia is saying.
Frustration simmers beneath the surface. It’s not her fault.
I never gave her any instructions about Mariella. She thought she was doing her a favor. But I should have been clearer, should have made it known that Mariella needed to stay close, given the circumstances.
On my way to the office, I call Gustavo. He picks up after the fourth ring.
