I pout. Does he really plan to ignore me for the rest of our lives? I could kick myself for believing he ever cared about me on a real level. How could he have if he could so easily avoid me like I never existed?
Sure, I’m avoiding him, but that’s different. I didn’t threaten him with a gun, for fuck’s sake. It’s plain stupidity to want to see him after all of that. It’s bad enough I’m still under his roof, letting him provide shelter for me. I already know I have no pride. But to want him, to hope he pays me a visit in the night. It’s fucked up, so fucked up.
By Sunday morning,I can’t stand it any longer. I don’t feel like going out to pick up breakfast yet again, and I’m going stir-crazy. I’ll scream if I have to stare at these walls for another minute.
That’s what forces me out of the room and how I find myself tiptoeing across the house. Gianni’s usually in his office every day of the week. I doubt he’ll know I left the wing. That’s if he even cares.
The sunny kitchen is a tremendous improvement, and the aroma of coffee lightens my mood. I go to the cabinet and grab a mug. I’m about to pour myself a cup when the pantry door opens, and I nearly drop the carafe.
It’s only Sheryl, the family cook, who looks as surprised as I am.
“Oh! I imagined you’d left by now,” she says with a soft laugh. “I was checking to make sure the pantry is stocked with Miss Tatiana’s favorites.”
“No, I’m still here. I’ve been spending a lot of time alone.”
She arches her eyebrow. “Have you been eating?”
“I pick things up here and there,” I offer with a shrug.
She scowls, but I don’t think she means it harshly. “A young person like you should save your money, not waste it on cheap junk and overpriced coffee.”
I laugh. “You sound like my dad.”
“Your father is a wise man. Now, there’s no way I’m going to let you leave this kitchen without fixing you something to eat. What would you like?”
“Scrambled eggs, maybe? I’m simple and don’t want to be a pain.”
“Nonsense. It’s what I’m here for, and with Miss Tatiana on her trip, and Mr. Rossetti in and out at all times of the day, I don’t have nearly enough work to keep me busy.”
“Okay. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take it back to my room.” Because even now, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m taking a colossal risk. He could come strolling in any second, or I might run into him on my way back. Why was it such a big deal for me to come out here? I can’t even remember anymore.
How long does it take to cook eggs, for god’s sake?
By the time she slides the plate my way, I’m ready to run. “Thank you so much,” I murmur with a tight smile before turning away and starting out for my room. This is ridiculous. I can’t believe how my heart’s racing, and my skin’s flushed and sweaty, all because I didn’t want to spend the entire weekend behind a locked door.
These had better be some damn good eggs to make it worthwhile if he finds me out here.
“Caterina.”
It’s not Gianni’s voice calling out from across the central hall that separates the two wings, thank god. Otherwise, I’d drop my breakfast all over the floor and maybe pee myself.
How can I still want him, even though the idea of running into him terrifies me? I need help.
Roger is at the other end of the hall. I wouldn’t say we’re friends, but I’ve always seen him as a decent guy. I know he’s just as bad as Gianni—the only difference is he’s never been mean or threatened me, and he looks friendly enough as he approaches. It’s Tatiana he has a problem with, not me.
“How are things going?” he asks, eyeing the plate in my hand before meeting my gaze. “Is there anything you need?”
Interesting. I’m not surprised he sent Roger to do his dirty work. I don’t know if I’m flattered or hurt that he wouldn’t come to me himself. It’s clear he cares enough to want to know if I’m doing okay. I don’t know why I’m complaining. His presence would only overwhelm me. Distance is good. At least I can think clearly when he isn’t around.
“Why can’t he ask me himself?” I whisper, looking around him, expecting to find his boss lurking in the shadows.
“He’s very busy.”
“Sure.” I sigh. “Let him know I’m fine, and everything will be in place when Tatiana returns home in a few days.”
His scowl keeps me from walking away like I want to. “She’s not coming home. I assumed she told you.”
“What? Why?” I whine, sounding like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum. I’ve been practically counting the minutes.
He rolls his eyes, smirking the way he usually does when she’s involved. “Christopher wants to stop off in Milan to visit with family, and they’re going to swing through Rome. Her words when she spoke to Gianni earlier today.”
And she didn’t call me. What if she somehow found out, and she’s mad at me? Maybe that’s why she’s avoiding coming home, because of me.
My chest hurts, and my appetite is a distant memory now. “I’ll have to call her.”
“I don’t know. She might be too busy running around the world with Daddy footing the bill.” He blinks rapidly, the lines between his brows smoothing out. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay.” Compared to some things I’ve witnessed him saying to her, that’s nothing.
“You’d better go and eat your eggs while they’re still hot.” He offers a tight grin before backing away.
A door further down the hall swings open, and this time a familiar, breathless voice rings out. “Roger? I want to check the—”
Shit.He stares at me, his gaze cold, but there’s a trickle of something else there. My heart doesn’t freeze, as I had expected. It feels like it’s about to split open.
I only thought I knew how much I missed seeing him and hearing his deep voice. All it takes is a glimpse of his sculpted body, dressed in sweat-soaked workout clothes, and I’m imagining throwing myself at his feet and begging him to forgive me. Touch me. Want me.
Why do you hate me? What did I do?
Rather than beg him for answers, I waste no time running away from that look in his eyes. Whatever I did, he can’t forgive it.
And I have no idea how much longer it will be before Tatianacomes back. There’s nobody to rescue me. I’ll spend the rest of my day going through rental listings. Right now, I’d be happy to take four walls and a ceiling that doesn’t leak. Anything, so long as it means never seeing that look in his eyes again.
A look that makes me think he wishes he’d gone through with killing me.