I had been so wrapped up in causing trouble with April that I completely neglected to keep track of Romano's comings and goings. It's not like he was not extraordinarily stealthy; it's just that without April egging me on, I normally had enough time to pay attention to his whereabouts. Let's face it, most of his destination was probably Kate Hewitt's bedroom.
She was pregnant, not incapacitated, for Christ's sake. But what would I know? I had never carried a child in my womb before, never experienced what it felt like to be doing it while the man was sheltering another woman around.
But back to my point, it was because of April that I had missed most of Romano's movements and calls, and now I found myself utterly clueless about where we were moving to.
"Pack your things," he had said with a cold, monotonous voice, "we were leaving in ten."
I had finished packing and was now waiting. He fancied himself some kind of lord and master who dictated everything without diplomacy, didn't he? Hell, he was. He didn't tolerate opinions or opposition; he demanded immediate assent. I had learned to stop arguing, and recalling April's advice before she left, I had learned not to engage with him.
If we maintained our distance, maybe we could keep the peace. But honestly, I was only causing more harm to myself. It was twisted, really. I hadn't forgiven him for Kate and had no plans to do so in the near future, but at the same time, I wanted to stop hurting by forgiving him, knowing it would only lead to embracing him without putting an end to him and Kate.
He was the one in a mess here, not me.
He had said ten minutes, but it had already been fifteen by my count. To distract myself from the unanswered questions about our departure, I began to double-check my surroundings, making sure I hadn't forgotten anything. As I emerged from the bathroom, I found him encroaching on my space.
His demeanor towards me was curt, snapping his fingers and barely sparing me a glance. At least he didn't make me lug my box around; he ordered someone else to do it for me. Stepping into the hallway, I noticed it wasn't just a favor for me. Another man was holding Katie's carrier bag. She had only been here for three nights and already had belongings. Quite at home, I'd say.
I had thought she had come just to deliver news, but now she was trailing us like an eager shadow.
I tasted bile rising in my throat.
As we reached the car park, I noticed an extra car waiting. It was clear we couldn't all fit into one vehicle. Suddenly, I was eager to get into the car where Katie was already leaning.
I watched Romano walk towards the Audi driven by Max. They started a conversation, Romano's back turned to me while Max's attention was on him. It was my first and only chance to be alone with Katie, so I seized it.
Leaning against the car's trunk, I positioned myself closer to her. Though I was facing her and Max, the distance was just right on this end. She could hear me, but they couldn't.
It seemed she sensed the significance of my proximity because she spoke first. "Xenia."
It took everything in my willpower not to cuss at her. "Kate," I said simply, "you seem to be at getting comfortable around these ends. Hm? I leave you and him in Bologna, and you find your way down here to ruffle my feathers. Classic."
"I'm not interested in upsetting you," she shot back, her Italian accent so strong one might forget she wasn't even a documented citizen. "Don't beat yourself up. Don't hide when no one's chasing."
Oh, the audacity of her indifference, like a cat toying with its prey. Suppressing a scoff, I nodded, feigning acceptance. "Well, at least you're aware of my disdain for your presence."
"I'm well aware of your disposition, yes. That you're not exactly thrilled to have me around." She smirked and the subtle twist of her lips betrayed her amusement. "I'm not around because I want to, nothing about Sicily excites me particularly. I'm just doing what Romano says."
Now she had really gotten under my skin with that phrase: Doing what Romano says.
"Do you ever do what he doesn't say?" I spat out with bitterly. "I'm curious, you know. Or do you ever ignore his commands and do your own thing?"
Kate let out a small laugh. She usually wore either red lipstick or a very dark shade of brown, but today, she wasn't wearing any makeup, and she still looked beautiful. I couldn't deny that fact. I just resented it. I was jealous of her, how she had been able to keep him with her for years while I struggled to even hold his attention.
"Do what he doesn't say?" She appeared to ponder for a moment before responding, "Of course I do. He doesn't control every aspect of my life; I'm not his wife. But no, I don't often disagree with him." Sensing my next question, she clarified, "He's my boss, there would be consequences for that. But we have civil discussions; he listens to me and doesn't always dismiss my opinions."
That admission seemed contradictory to the side of Romano I had been facing. But I was consumed by so much jealousy that reaching my limit meant I couldn't even muster a reaction to her confession. I just clenched my jaw in response.
The silence was broken by the low murmurs of Max and Romano nearby. I turned my gaze to them and noticed the seriousness of their conversation intensifying.
Was I being foolish? Here I was, battling my jealousy and engaging in banter with my supposed rival like a child playing dress-up, while real men were trying to contain the fire I had ignited. He was still attempting to shield me from my own decisions, from the consequences of my stubbornness, and all I could do was resent him.
I wasn't naive enough to ignore the signs of trouble brewing, and from where I stood observing Romano and Max's demeanor, trouble seemed imminent. It was my problem that had them on edge, yet all I could do was let jealousy cloud my way of thinking.
"Worry less, Xenia," Kate's voice sliced through my thoughts as she drew closer and closer. Her whisper felt unnervingly loud. "I'm not interested in Romano, and he's not interested in me. We simply fuck. Now, if you'll please, you're standing in my way."
My God.
I felt like I was melting under the scorching sun but managed to step aside for her to open the door. The sound caught Romano's attention, and he locked eyes with me first, then followed Katie's gaze into the car before tapping Max on the back to dismiss him.
My mind was relentlessly replaying those words "we simply fuck" as Romano approached. I was so numb that when he reached where I stood, I couldn't muster the anger to lash out at hearing his devotee trump me.
"We're riding in that car," he informed me, gesturing towards the one Max had driven, "not this one."
Perhaps he suspected a clash between us, perhaps not. He was foolish to think separate cars would quell the animosity between me and Kate. He was being reckless again, attempting to appease us both with actions that only fueled my resentment.
I looked him up and down, held his gaze, and shook my head, suppressing a sigh of pain. "Whatever you do, Romano, just make sure she's kept away from me," I offered rudely before walking away.
$$$
I quietly made my way through the carpeted corridor of the ground floor of the villa, doing my best to block out the distant thud of music seeping from beneath Romano's door. Upon entering the unfamiliar bedroom designated to me hours ago, I shed my clothes in a haphazard trail leading to the bathroom.
Glancing at my reflection, I twisted the shower knob to hot and stepped inside.
The heat seared my skin.
I needed something to cleanse this memory from my mind. Today's encounter in the carpark had transported me back to the eve of Romano's marriage to Alfonso's daughter, where I last witnessed someone so openly using the f-word and Romano's name in unison.
The steaming water cascaded from the faucet, plastering my hair against my face and shoulders. In my mind's eye, it wasn't just water, but blood—flowing down my body and disappearing into the drain. If only it were as simple to wash away hate as it was to rinse away dye.
The crimson hue was merely the initial shedding of dye. My natural brunette strands had starting to emerge once more, evoking memories of my childhood self trapped within the confines of my past. I despised seeing myself as that vulnerable girl, the one who had been confronted with the echo of a gunshot from her father's bedroom and had witnessed him bathed in his own blood and matter. The same girl who had earlier learned that her mother had sacrificed her life in an attempt to give birth to her.
I had concealed the streaks once more, adopting the guise of an unruly and self aware woman. Technically, I wasn't, but you're what you think of yourself.
No one would tell you; this was why I loathed my true brunette shade. It made me appear weak, feel weak, and behave completely like a child.
After rinsing off the misplaced red dye for the third time, I towel-dried my hair and changed into fresh clothes. I hadn't bothered to unpack yet; only gone downstairs to the kitchen in search of scissors to tame my unruly locks. Until now, I still hadn't taken a proper look around the villa, but judging by its exterior, it must have been worth a small fortune for him.
It was finally revealed on me why we were here: Romano was holding the Keiths hostage. According to Renata's account, however, it was all a sham. He and I hadn't been on speaking terms lately, so I wasn't getting my information directly from him. In fact, I explicitly told him to stay away and even slammed the door in his face—and surprisingly, he had yielded.
The number of rooms in this place remained unknown to me, but I could infer there were plenty enough to Kate and Romano on a different floor from me. Renata and her son resided down this particular hallway, and two of the men were somewhere nearby. The villa was expansive enough to afford everyone their privacy, spacious enough to become lost in one's own troubling thoughts. At least Romano's choice of room for me didn't show favoritism by providing a mundane view. Instead, I faced the well-structured pool and the meticulously manicured garden nearby.
This became my new normal, constantly moving for safety reasons or simply out of inconvenience. I should have been more careful. If I hadn't acted as I did, Romano wouldn't have been able to track me down, and I'd be relaxing either in April's apartment or my own, enjoying some fries.
Speaking of fries, I found myself in the kitchen, searching through cabinets, the fridge, and the pantry. I was hungry, perhaps not specifically for fries, but certainly not for anything I could cook, though I persisted, bringing out ingredients, some of which I'd never used.
The kitchen was fully stocked.
With no music career, only writing to my name, I found myself humming and eventually singing along to the music emanating from Romano's door at the far end of the corridor if one stood at the kitchen threshold.
If the music was so loud all the way down here, I wondered if it was meant to drown out other sounds or if the intention was to deafen himself.
There was a sense of activity in the kitchen, though I couldn't quite identify what I was up to. I only knew there was spaghetti simmering on the stove and I was chopping some veggies to cook it with.
Then, a slip of the knife nicked my index finger, evoking a wave of nostalgia. It transported me back to my days at Ice Phantom, cooking countless meals for the men. They often praised my cooking, but deep down, I suspected it was because they had no other options. Like I'd normally do whenever I cut myself, I licked the blood off and continued.
"Next time, you should try rinsing it off," a voice interrupted, causing me to pause both my singing and my movements. If only I hadn't been singing, perhaps I would have heard her approach.
I didn't turn to acknowledge her presence. Instead, I carried on with what I was doing, sensing her footsteps drawing nearer. Why bother turning to face Kate of all people? I was avoiding her, not welcoming her company.
She perched herself on one of the stools by the kitchen island, briefly catching my eye. I noticed that her brown hair cascading down and her unflattering brown top oddly matched. I continued chopping vegetables until the mix lay neatly on the cutting board.
Turning away from her, I detected her persistent giggle that only sought to make my blood curdle. "Lost or something?" I asked casually, before transferring the chopped vegetables into a separate pot.
"I'm bored, I'd say."
"The kitchen is no circus." I paused again to face her. "Pass me the salt, will you?" She extended it to me, and I took it, surprised by her compliance. "You should check out the pool, or perhaps there's a sauna around here... although, would that be too harmful for the baby? If so, maybe Romano's bedroom would be more entertaining. Who knows what fun awaits there."
"You're being caustic with me. Oh, no! The all-too-sweet Xenia is biting back. Hmm. I'm shocked."
"Where's my sense of humor again?" I faked pondering and eventually laughed. "Oh, I know where. Trapped in the rubble of your pretentiousness."
She looked me down up. "Nice hair, by the way."
And my thank you didn't formulate in my head, let alone leave my throat.
Kate, with her perpetual smile, nervously rubbed the back of her neck, biting her lip as she picked up bottles of ingredients to fidget with their labels. I grew increasingly weary of her acting as though I had no reason to resent her presence.
I shifted my focus back to the pot of spaghetti, stirring it after adding salt. Attempting to distract myself, I hummed a tune, trying to be in sync with Romano's music that I had lost track of. However, her presence felt suffocating; I could sense her disapproving clicks of the tongue and muttered comments. It was as if her piercing green eyes were drilling into the back of my head.
She patiently waited for me to finish cooking, and as soon as I turned off the stove, she took the initiative to start clearing up after me. Suspicion gnawed at my chest, but I refrained from voicing it and simply worked alongside her.
However, the cooperation quickly turned into a chaotic mess as we inadvertently got in each other's way, exchanged occasional irritated glances, and eventually opted for separate tasks.
Her behavior resembled that of a conniving maid who was subtly trying to win over a woman's husband, all the while smiling and reassuring that she meant no harm. I refused to be duped by her facade.
"There isn't enough to go around," she protested, grabbing five plates. "You should consider that when cooking for a full house."
"You should also consider that I didn't factor in your appetite or anyone else's!"
"That's not very nice, is it?" She grabbed a spoon and began to dish out the food. At this point, I yielded to her, as she had suddenly taken charge of the task and claimed the entire space.
Her charade came to an abrupt halt when the pot emitted a hollow sound, signaling its emptiness after filling five plates. She had distributed the food evenly, disregarding whether I, the cook, desired more. Placing three plates on the island, she took two and departed.
I was left utterly bewildered, my emotions swirling...
Before I could even process the feelings taking their root in me, she dashed back in, and trailing behind her was...
Him, shirtless.
"Xenia cooked up a feast, didn't you?" she exclaimed, winking at me as if it had been our joint plan all along to cook and serve him. Her presumption infuriated me even further.
"Right," I muttered, gripping my plate tightly, considering fleeing to the car park to eat alone if possible, rather than joining them here like two happy wives and a delusional husband.
However, my assumption was wrong; Kate didn't stay. She grabbed her plate and departed, leaving us both to exchange glanced that were no different from pins and holes.
His eyes particularly lingered on my hair, almost passing a silent message. That was until I found the resolve take a step.
The fortitude came to take another, and I eventually left him standing there in the middle of the kitchen like he meant nothing but an inconvenient memory I was finally ready to leave behind.