ELEANOR
I couldn’t seem to find any sleep because each time I closed my eyes, the images came rushing back-sharp and unforgiving-like shards of glass cutting through my mind.
I sat up on the edge of my bed staring at the shadows dancing across the wall. Sleep wasn’t just far, it felt impossible. My body felt too heavy, my mind too restless, and I couldn’t even lie down properly all night.
After Armando had gone upstairs last night, I forced myself to mop the living room floor just like he’d asked, even though my hands wouldn’t stop trembling. The cold seeped into my bones, and my clothes stuck to my skin as I worked, but I still pushed through. When I finally dragged myself upstairs, my room was exactly as I’d left it-cold and silent.
Don Salvatore’s words haunted me. His threats still hung over me like a storm cloud even though I was now miles away from him-wherever he was.
Still, I couldn’t dwell on it now. If Armando sensed even the slightest shift in my behavior, he’d know something was off. He was sharp-always watching-and so if he started keeping an eye on me, I’d lose any chance I had to figure this out.
I arranged my hair in front of the mirror and smoothed down my dress, deciding to focus on what I could control-keeping up appearances. If I went about my usual chores like normal, maybe he wouldn’t notice anything.
Just as I was about to reach for the door, there was a soft knock.
I froze.
Knocking? That wasn’t like him.
Armando never knocked. He barged in whenever he wanted, his presence always sudden and overwhelming. I’d grown used to it, even though it irritated me. But this? This was different.
My heart pounded as I stared at the door. Why was he here? Why now?
Although I had heard the knock, Armando didn’t wait for me to tell him to come in. The door handle twisted, and just like that, he already was inside-calm and unbothered as if the act of knocking had been nothing more than a courtesy he didn’t really mean to follow through on.
I stood there frozen, staring at him. My thoughts raced, trying to piece together why he’d even bothered to knock in the first place because this wasn’t like him.
He looked… different. There was no mistaking that he had somehow been affected by Enzo’s passing-although he probably wouldn’t admit to it.
For a moment, he didn’t say anything. His dark eyes scanned me, lingering a little longer than I was comfortable with.
“What’s with the look?” He asked as his sharp gaze caught mine, his tone casual but edged with something I couldn’t quite place.
I swallowed hard, my voice shaky as I replied, “It’s nothing… It’s just… you’ve never knocked before. This is the first time.”
“Relax,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You always look like I’m about to bite your head off.”
A faint smirk tugged at his lips, but it wasn’t warm. It was full of that pride he carried around like some sort of armor. “Don’t get used to it,” he said, brushing off my comment with a wave of his hand.
“This is my house. I’ll still walk into any room whenever I feel like it. Whether you’re dressed or not makes no difference to me. Don’t forget…” His voice lowered, the words heavier now. “I own you.”
The reminder hit me like a punch to the gut. I didn’t need him to say it-I already knew. Every second in this house was a reminder of how trapped I was.
I bit the inside of my cheek, pushing the anger down as far as I could. “Did you… need something?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady and as polite as possible. “Is there something you want me to do for you sir?”
He shook his head. “Forget that for now. I just came to check on you.”
The words threw me off completely. Check on me? Since when did Armando check on anyone? Especially me?
I blinked at him, struggling to make sense of it. “Are you joking?” I asked before I could stop myself.
His face hardened instantly. “Do I look like a clown to you?” he snapped, his voice sharp. “Do you see makeup on my face? Or am I wearing a wig?”
My eyes widened-panic bubbling up-as I shook my head quickly, waving my hands slightly as if to wave off my own words. “No, no, that’s not what I meant,” I stammered. “It’s just… you knocked. And now you’re asking how I’m doing. It’s just not like you sir. That’s all. That’s why I-”
“Enough,” he cut me off. His tone was cold and final, “Just answer the question. Are you okay or not?”
I instinctively dipped my head, avoiding his piercing gaze as I curtseyed slightly. “Yes. I’m fine,” I said softly, though my voice betrayed my nerves.
His eyes stayed on me, unblinking. “Did you sleep?”
I hesitated. My body stiffened as I considered how much to say. “I… I didn’t sleep,” I admitted, my words almost a whisper.
“Why not?”
“It’s nothing,” I said quickly. “I just… couldn’t sleep.”
For a moment, he just stared at me with that same unreadable expression of his. Then he asked, “The rain. Did it bother you?”
My stomach clenched. The truth sat heavy in my chest-I hadn’t stopped shivering since last night. The cold had penetrated deep into my bones and I could feel the beginnings of a fever, but I couldn’t let him know that.
“No,” I lied. “I was fine.”
He tilted his head slightly, studying me in that way that always made me feel like he could see right through me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said quickly, forcing myself to stand straighter. “I’m sure.”
The silence stretched between us, and I could feel his eyes still on me, as if he didn’t entirely believe me but wasn’t in the mood to push.
Armando didn’t move, but his sharp gaze stayed locked on me. It felt as though he was dissecting every word I’d just said, every movement I’d made.
I tried to keep my expression neutral, but something about the way his brow twitched made it clear that he wasn’t buying it.
Without a word, he stepped closer in an instant-covering up the space between us in the mere blink of an eye-and before I could react, his hand was on my neck. The back of his hand was cold-so cold against the heat of my skin that I flinched. His touch wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t harsh either, more like he was testing me, testing the truth of my words.
“You said you were fine,” he muttered, his voice low and cutting. “But this? This feels like a fever. I wonder…” His tone shifted into something sarcastic, mocking. “…what could possibly have caused it?”
I couldn’t respond. My teeth chattered softly, betraying me further and my heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. I knew I couldn’t let him see how nervous I was, but my body wasn’t cooperating.
Armando pulled his hand away slowly, and the absence of his touch startled me again. My body jerked slightly without meaning to, and I hated how obvious it must’ve looked.
His footsteps were slow and deliberate, and I didn’t have to look to know he was circling me.
I stood as still as I could-my hands pressed tightly to my sides-but I could feel him behind me, engulfed by the weight of his aura.
He leaned in, his voice a soft whisper near my ear. “I wonder,” he said, drawing out the words, “what else you’re lying about.”
A cold chill ran down my spine even though my skin still burned with fever. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “I… I don’t understand,” I stammered, my voice breaking. “What do you mean?”
But he didn’t answer. The silence was deafening, with each passing second dragging out into an eternity. I couldn’t move, neither could I even turn my head to look at him. My whole body was frozen even though every fiber of my being wanted me to do something.
I could feel Armando’s eyes boring into the back of my skin as the room began to fade into nothing-leaving only the sound of my racing heartbeat in my ears.
Finally, his voice tore through the tension. “Change your clothes,” he said, his tone flat but commanding.
“W-what?” I managed, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
“I said,” he repeated, his voice sharper this time, “change your clothes. Whatever you think you’re wearing now, change it into something else.”
I turned my head slightly in an attempt to try gauging his expression, but he was already on his way walking towards the door. He stopped just before reaching it-his hand resting on the frame. “We’re going out,” he added without looking back.
And with that, he was gone.
The door clicked shut behind him, but the tension in the room stayed, thick and suffocating.
My legs trembled beneath me as my mind raced, but I still couldn’t pin down a single coherent thought. What was happening? Where were we going? And why now?
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, my knees weak as I sank onto the edge of the bed.
For all the fear I carried about what Armando might do, it was the moments like this-when he was unpredictable, throwing me off balance-that scared me the most.
The only thing I knew for sure was that I didn’t have a choice.