ELEANOR
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was how quiet the mansion felt. It wasn’t the kind of quiet I had gotten used to since Armando locked himself in his room. This was different-heavier, like the silence had a weight to it.
I turned my head slightly towards the clock on the wall, and when I saw the time, my body jerked upright before I could even think.
9:30 AM.
“Crap,” I muttered, throwing the covers off and scrambling out of bed.
My heart raced as I tried to make sense of how I’d overslept because it felt like I’d only closed my eyes for a few minutes, but somehow, I’d lost hours.
I stood there for a moment staring at the clock again, as if the numbers might somehow change if I looked hard enough-although they never did.
Dragging myself to the dresser, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess-tangled from tossing and turning all night, my face was lined with faint creases from the pillow, and I looked… tired. The kind that a single night’s rest wouldn’t fix.
Still I couldn’t afford to waste any more time, so I shook off the temptation to crawl back into bed, and then headed right into the bathroom.
Once inside, I slowly slipped off my nightgown-tossing it onto the counter, my undergarments followed, and then I stepped into the shower-twisting the handle.
A sharp gasp escaped me as the cold water hit my skin, jolting me awake more effectively than any alarm clock could.
The water cascaded down my body-washing away the lingering grogginess-and I tilted my head back, letting it soak my hair and trail down my face.
But as the chill of the water seeped into my skin, my mind began to wander to the night Armando had brought that girl home.
Although I didn’t want to think about it, the memories pushed their way in anyway.
Every detail of that night-the way she’d moved, the sounds they made and the way Armando had looked at me afterward-flooded back in as though a movie was being replayed in my head.
I shut my eyes-squeezing them tight, but it only made the images sharper.
The harder I tried to push the thoughts away, the more vivid they became.
My breathing slowed-turning shallow-and I could feel the pressure building like something inside me was being pulled to the surface. My hands moved without my permission, trailing over my arms, my shoulders, and then down to my sides.
The water wasn’t cold anymore. Or maybe I just didn’t notice.
Every droplet felt like a spark against my skin-each one feeding the tension that was coiling tighter and tighter in my chest-and my breaths came out in slow, uneven gasps as my fingers traced paths I wasn’t fully aware of.
I didn’t want to think about that night, I didn’t want to feel this way, but it was like my body had its own memory. One that didn’t need my permission to resurface.
I leaned against the cool tile wall, letting the water pour over me-my hands gripping the edge of the shower for support.
I couldn’t stop it anymore, and somehow, I didn’t want to.
The pressure inside me broke free-washing over me like the water pooling at my feet, and I let myself get lost in it for a moment.
When I finally opened my eyes, the water was still running and my body felt a bit lighter, but my mind… my mind was a mess.
Even when I stepped out of the shower, Armando still occupied my mind.
It wasn’t just the memories of that night-though they clung to me like a shadow, it was something deeper, something I couldn’t explain yet.
I hated it, but at the same time, I couldn’t deny the sudden pull I felt toward him and I hated myself even more for that.
Wrapping the towel around me, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor as my thoughts spiraled. How had I gotten to this point? How could I let myself be affected so much by someone who had made it his mission to remind me just how powerless I was?
The memory of that night wasn’t even mine to hold. It was forced on me yet here I was, unable to shake it off.
I shook my head, trying to snap myself out of it.
No I wasn’t going to give in to these thoughts anymore. I had to get it together.
I grabbed my clothes, dressed quickly, and decided that I needed to keep busy. I had to keep my hands and mind occupied or else I’d spiral further into these ridiculous feelings.
Once I stepped out of my room, I wasted no time. I grabbed the cleaning supplies and immediately got to work.
The corridors came first, then the hallways.
I wiped down every surface, making sure there wasn’t a speck of dust left behind. The floors, the banisters-everything had to be spotless.
From there, I moved on to the balconies. The fresh air helped clear my head a little, and for a moment, I thought I was finally shaking off those lingering thoughts of him.
But then, I walked into the living room.
The second I pulled the curtains open-letting the sunlight stream in, my eyes landed on the empty driveway. Armando’s fleet of cars were gone.
That was when it hit me. No wonder the mansion felt so eerily quiet this morning. Armando wasn’t here.
For a moment, I stood there gripping the curtain in my hand, staring at the empty space where his cars usually sat.
Where had he gone? And why did I care? Since when did his comings and goings matter to me?
I let out a heavy sigh and turned away from the window. “Get it together, Eleanor,” I muttered under my breath.
I focused on cleaning the living room, scrubbing every surface until it practically shined. But no matter how hard I worked, no matter how much I tried to distract myself, my thoughts kept drifting back to him.
When I finally finished, I glanced at the clock on the wall. 12:30 PM.
It was still early, but I felt like I’d been running a marathon all morning. And after sitting down for a quick rest, I made my way to the kitchen.
Even though I wasn’t sure if Armando would be back for lunch, I figured I’d prepare something just in case-so he wouldn’t have any excuse to lash out at me.
The kitchen was quiet as I worked, the only sounds coming from the chopping of vegetables and the soft simmering of water on the stove. It was almost calming, but even as I moved through the familiar motions of cooking, I still couldn’t stop thinking about him.
By the time I had finished, the food was ready and the kitchen was back to its spotless state. I covered the dishes-leaving them on the counter-and headed right back into my room.
Once inside, I sat on the bed, letting out a deep breath. I’d done everything I was supposed to do today. The mansion was clean, lunch was ready, and I didn’t owe anyone anything else. This was my time now.
I lay back on the bed-hoping for some peace-but even as I closed my eyes, his face was still there, lingering in the corners of my mind.
Even in the quiet of my room, I couldn’t escape the thoughts of that night. I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to feel the way I was feeling, but it was like my body had its own will.
Staring at the ceiling, my hands betrayed me. They slid over my skin, grazing my arms, my stomach, and then lower. I felt warmth building between my thighs again and I gasped softly, letting my fingers trail just enough to tease myself. It wasn’t intentional, rather it was more like a need that I couldn’t suppress anymore.
My breaths quickened, and my right hand drifted lower, pressing into the source of the heat. My fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, sending small shocks of pleasure through me. I bit my lip, trying to keep my gasps quiet, but the room felt too silent. Too exposed.
The loud blare of sirens from the driveway snapped me out of it and my eyes shot open as I realized Armando was back.
“Shit,” I whispered, pulling my hand away like I’d been burned.
I scrambled off the bed-throwing on my bra and slipping back into my panties as my heart raced, not just from what l’d been doing but from the fact that I might not have had enough time to cover my tracks.
I smoothed out the bed as quickly as I could, trying to act like everything was perfectly normal.
Once I felt composed enough-or at least as composed as I could get, I stepped out of my room, and from the top of the stairs, I could see Armando in the living room surrounded by Matteo, Giuseppe, and a few of his other men. They were talking about something I couldn’t make out, but the intensity of their body language made it clear that whatever it was was important.
I leaned forward slightly-trying not to be obvious, and watched as Armando gestured for them to leave. His hand moved in a calm wave, and one by one, they nodded before exiting the room.
Then, his head tilted up.
I froze.
For a split second, our eyes locked-or at least I thought they did.
I couldn’t tell if he’d really seen me, but I didn’t want to take the chance either so I ducked back into my room, shutting the door quietly behind me.
My heart thudded in my chest as I leaned against the door, trying to calm myself down. “He probably didn’t see me,” | whispered to myself though I didn’t believe it.
I smoothed out my bed again, rearranged my pillow, and then tried to look as natural as possible. Soon after, there was a soft knock on my door.
It might as well have been a thunderclap with how fast my heart started racing.
I knew it was him, but before I could even respond, the door swung open.
Armando stepped in without hesitation, leaving the door ajar as he scanned the room-his eyes moving slowly like he was taking in the details of every corner.
He then shut the door behind him with a quiet click and I couldn’t help but feel trapped.
He walked towards me-his steps deliberate and unhurried-with his gaze heavy on me. It wasn’t just the way he looked at me; it was the way he carried himself-like a predator that knew his prey had nowhere to go.
When he finally stopped right in front of me, I couldn’t meet his eyes. I stared at the floor instead, trying to steady my breathing.
“Get up,” he said, his voice calm but firm.
I looked up at him, confused. “What?”
“I said, get up.” He repeated. His tone didn’t waver, but there was something almost… soft about it. Soft in a way that made me feel even more uneasy.
“Why?” | asked, my voice quieter than I intended.
His lips curved slightly, but it wasn’t a smile. It was like he was amused by how nervous I was.
“I have something for you,” he said simply, looking at me as though he knew exactly what l’d been doing before he arrived.
“What is it?” | asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You’ll see,” he said, stepping closer.
His presence was overwhelming, and I hated the way my body reacted. My chest felt tight, and my legs felt weak, but I didn’t move.