Hate Me, Love Me (Ongoing)

Chapter 8

Anastasia's POV
My mind is hazy when I awake. Getting out of bed, I rub away the sleep from my eyes. When they finally adjust to the sunlight pouring in through my window, everything comes back to my memory.

This is not my bed. This is not my home. I'm betrothed to an Italian mob boss, whom I saw kill a man without a second thought. That same man shot my grandfather.

I have to check on him. See how he's doing. I snatch my phone off the nightstand and check my messages. Desperation and fear washes over me when I see that I've received a text from Ingrid. I'm quick to open up the message and read over it.

Ingrid: Your grandfather's fine.

Tears flood my eyes and blur my vision as they begin to spill. I'm relieved. I exhale a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. Those three words were all I needed to hear. They forced air back into my lungs.

He's okay.

After getting dressed for the day, I follow the delicious smell of breakfast foods all the way into the kitchen.

Carla greeted me from in the kitchen. She smiled big. "Buongiorno (Good Morning)."

I flashed a smile her way and took a seat at the dining table. Bane, who had been chowing away at the food in his bowl, walked over to me and laid by my feet.

I reached down to scratch behind his ears. He licked my hand in greeting, his stubby little tail wagging.

Carla brought over plates of food, having created a feast. Omelets. Sausage. Belgian Waffles. Fruit. Blueberry muffins. The way she had everything splayed out on the table had me questioning what day it was.

Surely she couldn't have cooked all this for me. My eyes slowly drifted around the home, wondering where Mateo was. He and I haven't had a real interaction yet. Not that I care. If I never have to see his face ever again, I'd be the happiest woman in the world.

Carla must have caught the searching look in my eyes because she answered, "Mr. Lucci is not here. He's out handling business."

Does he not eat breakfast? I thought.

I felt bad for Carla. She cooked all of this amazing food, and he couldn't even stay long enough to appreciate it.

Carla notices my sympathetic expression. "Oh, don't feel bad for me. Mr. Lucci is a busy man. Besides, when he's not around, I cook and clean less."

She chuckled, and I joined her. Carla is such a sweet, caring woman. I wondered if she had a family. She's not a live-in maid, so surely she had a family to go home to. I bet they're all just as amazing as she is.

She's made this whole arrangement a little easier to bear. I don't feel so lonely with her here. Although, I still miss Ingrid. I even miss those knuckleheads Boris and Rurik.

The smile on my face fades. My eyes fall down to my plate as I lazily push around the fruit with my fork.

Carla clears her throat and steps away to do the dishes. She can tell I'm unhappy here. Not even this delicious breakfast is enough to raise my spirits. I miss my family. I need to see them.

Losing my appetite, I stand to my feet and exit the dinner table. Bane follows as I head for my room and shut the door. I leap onto my bed, Bane joining me. He whines softly while nudging my hand.

I take that as his way of trying to comfort me and get pets at the same time. I indulge him, a small smile forming as I run my hand over his furry head.

I still can't believe I had been so afraid of him before. He's the sweetest pup ever. At least to the people he likes, according to Carla.

****

The day drags on slowly. And when night rolls around, Carla prepares dinner, then we say our goodbyes.

I wish she could have stayed longer. But like I had guessed, she had a family to get home to. If I could go with her, I would. I have a strong feeling that her home doesn't feel cold and lonely like this one.

Once I've finished my dinner, I wash my dishes, dry them, and put them away in their respective places.

The house is so big yet so empty that you can hear the clank of the dishes clearly. It echoes throughout the house, emphasizing how homeless it feels.

I don't feel cozy and warm. I feel imprisoned. My grandfather's house is a fortress filled with armed men. And still, I feel way more at home than I do here.

After showering and getting dressed for bed, Bane and I slip under the covers. It was nice having him beside me while I slept. The nightmares aren't as frequent.

My eyes close, and eventually, sleep takes over.

****

I don't know what time it is when I awake, but the darkness outside tells me it's pretty late.

Unable to fall back asleep, I get out of bed and head into the kitchen. I open up the refrigerator and grab a water bottle. Taking a seat at the dining table, the cap is twisted off, and the bottle raised to my mouth. I take a sip, feeling the cool liquid coat my throat.

A whine from Bane draws my attention. He's standing in front of the glass sliding door leading into the backyard.

Realizing he probably has to use the bathroom, I get up from my chair and open the door for him. I watch as he sniffs the grass and wanders over to a bush to pee on.

Stepping outside with him, I'm immediately met with a cool breeze. I should have grabbed a blanket. I'm standing outside with a white tank top and a pair of striped gray and white pajama pants.

I fold my arms over my chest and rub some warmth into them with my hands. Bane continues to explore, sniffing every bush and blade of grass there is.

When he's finally done, I follow him back inside, where it's warmer. Bane perks up with excitement and races out into the foyer. I thought maybe he had the zoomies until I found him with Mateo.

Bane leaped up onto his owner, covering his face in kisses and wagging his tail. Mateo was crouched down to Bane's height, dressed in a black suit tailored to his tall, lean frame. It was obvious he just got home from whatever business he's always handling.

Mateo doesn't seem to notice my presence, focused on the excited fur ball. He doesn't smile or show any ounce of happiness towards seeing his dog. But he doesn't look like a mob boss or a killer either. He looks like a normal person. It's kind of cute.

I find myself wanting to smile and catch it before I do. Mateo looks up. His facial expression remains just as unimpressed as ever. What's it going to take to get him to smile? Seeing a bunch of baby rabbits get run over by a lawn mower? Getting coal for Christmas?

I don't know why I care. Or why it frustrates me so much. I hate the man and everything he stands for. It was people like him who took my parents away from me.

That reminder erased any sliver of cuteness I felt a moment ago seeing him with his dog.

He rises to his full height, his amber eyes giving me a once over. His gaze is heated, and suddenly I'm wanting to go back outside to cool down.

Thankfully, he averts his gaze and shifts past me without a word. I turn just in time to see him disappear upstairs.