CHAPTER 9

Ann’s POV

 

My stomach churned with the thought of Vince being a bad man. This is what everyone seems to be portraying him as.

 

Not everyone, though.

 

Just that woman.

 

Maybe she is doing this to get me worked up over nothing and start having doubts about this thing between Vince and me so she could have her way with him.

 

I have no reason to doubt him.

 

So far, he has been only good to me. Too busy to do anything suspicious.

 

Despite the assurance, I can't ignore the inner turmoil and curiosity. It directs my mind back to the first time we met. He unexpectedly showed up to save me, accompanied by numerous men.

 

The tattoos all over his body speak volumes of words. 

 

The men were all dressed in black, like some sort of cult member loyal to their boss.

 

I didn't see any weapons, but I was sure they came with one. I was in a vulnerable state to notice every single thing about them.

 

Suddenly, I jolt upright as a knock comes to the door, interrupting my thoughts and reminding me of how I have been unable to reach Tessa.

 

I drop the phone in my hand and stroll to the door.

 

When I pull it open, I see Christiana, the head maid, at the door with the usual smile on her face.

 

Her smile is contagious, because I find myself smiling back.

 

“Would you like to come downstairs for the fittings?” She asks me, her smile not fading one bit as she speaks. It makes me wonder if she knows who I am, or if she is curious about my relationship with Vince.

 

None of the domestic staff are surprised by my presence, and it makes me wonder if I am not the first woman Vince has brought home.

 

“Should I ask them to come upstairs to your room instead?” The second question pulls me back to life.

 

“Fittings?” I ask in confusion. 

 

“Yes,” she utters, stepping aside and signaling for me to follow. I close the door quietly and follow behind until we get to the landing, and I spot two women standing close to two different clothes hangers.

 

My brows hitch up.

 

When we are downstairs and I approach the living room where they are waiting, I notice another woman, dressed in a suit and gray skirt, with a professional smile on her face.

 

“Good morning, Mrs. Di’Alberto, we are here to help me choose your type of clothing…”

 

“What?!” Shock is written on my face, I am sure of that. I can't believe she just called me Di’Alberto. Did Vince tell them already that we are married? Is this why everyone treats me with great respect?

 

I can't believe that name just pushed me back to the reality of my situation. Whether it was accidental or not, I am his wife. Whether we get an annulment later or not, I am still his wife until it happens.

 

I am tempted to tell them that I was Ms. Vasquez, but what good would come out of that?

 

I really don't want to get on Vince's bad side, not when I still don't know who he really is.

 

For a moment, I contemplate questioning Christiana, but I doubt if she would want to give her boss away. She might not be able to satisfy my curiosity, not when she seems to be a loyal worker.

 

“Are you okay, ma’am?” Christiana swiftly appears in front of me, her face in a deep frown.

 

I jerk back and nod quickly. Her eyes narrow on me, and a bubble of laughter escapes me.

 

“I'm so sorry.” I apologize quickly. “Let's get to it.”

 

I figured it out already. Vince wants me to get some clothes. If I refuse to do this, these women will be curious to know what is happening between the two newlyweds. 

 

It's better I play along for now, and when he comes back, we can discuss this.

 

I don't want to say Vince is avoiding me. I just want to believe he is extremely busy.

 

More reason why I want Tessa to be here soon.

 

I take a seat and watch the two women get to work, bringing out different clothes and asking me which I prefer.

 

I allow them to do the selection most of the time, until my eyes catch sight of a red lavender gown.

 

Then it hits.

 

The party.

 

Vince mentioned we needed to attend a party tonight, and I didn't even think about what dress to wear.

 

Maybe that is why he is doing this. To ensure I get a nice dress for tonight and even afterwards.

 

Even though that is understandable, I don't want to look like an opportunist. I don't want to create doubt in his heart and make him think all of this wasn't just a coincidence.

 

Excitement throbs inside of me as I point at the dress. One of the women brings it out for me to admire. 

   

"La Signora," says a gruff voice, interrupting my conversation with one of the women. Christiana swirls around, and a gasp leaves her mouth.

 

“Matteo, Francesco,” she mutters, opening her arms for the two men. 

 

They are also dressed in black suits, and I have a feeling there are black tattoos beneath those suits.

 

I watch them give Christiana a brief hug, and they converse in Italian, making the doubt in my heart about Vince increase tenfold.

 

Is this what I need to face? Coming across different strange, intimidating men?

 

“Arrivederci, Signora,” the tall guy mutters, and I figure he is saying his goodbye as Christiana begins to wave at them.

 

“Alla Prossima,” the shorter guy says, grabbing a dark, square-shaped box from the ground and disappearing through the exit.

 

I make sure to lock eyes with Christiana, who darts her eyes away quickly. Suddenly, I lose interest in the whole dress discussion.

 

I rise to my feet. “You two are amazing with fashion. Just give me anything you think will look good on me. Christiana will handle the rest.”

 

I move away without waiting for their responses. And without checking to see the expression on Christiana’s face either.

 

Something's wrong somewhere. Something seems off. Everything is starting to look suspicious to me. 

 

I hate this side of me. It makes me question every single damn thing that happens. 

 

If I don't get to the root of this, I won't stop doubting Vince.

 

When I am upstairs and close to my door, I turn around slowly to be sure Christiana isn't behind me. She isn't, so I turn to the left and make for Vince's bedroom, hoping it won't be locked.

 

I turn the doorknob quickly, and it opens. I rush inside, scared that one of the domestic staff would see me.

 

I need to find something. Something to prove that Vince is just a businessman and nothing more.

 

I need to prove to that lady that I know Vince well enough. If I don't do it this way, I will never find out who he really is, because Vince is never ready to tell me about himself.

 

Not when we barely talk. Not when he seems like someone whose utterances are being counted. Or whose words in a day have a limit.

 

I glance around the room, and once my eyes lock on a door, I walk closer. I try to turn the doorknob like I did with the front door, but it won't budge. I continue for a minute before giving up and moving towards Vince’s massive bed.

 

There is complete darkness throughout the room. The paintings have a gloomy tone. He uses black sheets. The floor is painted black, as are the doors.

 

What the hell?

 

I kneel down beside his drawers with urgency, dragging each one open until I reach the last, locked one.

 

Shit!

 

I'm about to give up and leave when I spot a tiny key at the top of the drawer. To open the drawer, I grab it and insert it.

 

Fortunately, it opens, and I drag it out.

 

There is nothing special about this, just piles of papers.

 

I begin to swallow all my questions down. Vince is not who he thinks he is. Vince is not a wicked man. 

 

I can't find anything. 

 

I don't want to think about searching somewhere else. 

 

This is it. I won't doubt him anymore.

 

When something shiny catches my attention, I forcefully push the drawer back in anger. I narrow my gaze and squat down again to pull the drawer out fully.

 

There is an object under the papers. It looks like the papers are just there to hide the object.

 

For a moment, I find myself just staring, without attempting to touch or see what it is. 

 

I know what I was looking for, and I have a feeling this is it.

 

After a long inhalation, I push the papers away to see a shiny, black gun lying in the drawer.

 

I stiffen, and my eyes dart to the door with wild panic.