Ch 9

Rue’s POV

The silence in the mansion was getting on my nerves, the kind of silence that pressed against your ears and moved slowly under your skin. I woke with it surrounding me like a second blanket. The bed was too soft. The sheets were far too smooth, and expensive, so that they smelled like him.

But he was gone, maybe he never even wanted to come into my room. He has not tried to talk to me after the stupid wedding, and it just makes me really furious.

The space beside me was cold and untouched, like he hadn’t even looked back after laying me here.

I sat up slowly. My head ached from a kind of emotional whiplash I wasn’t used to, married in a moment, and stripped of control the next. Everything about last night had felt like a fever dream. The fact that I am in his room as his wife is still the craziest thing to me. I still cannot believe a man like Alessandro Vanilli could have any interest in a girl like me. This was far from expecting a payment on return.

A man like this does not marry their debtors. He didn't even let my father be present at my own wedding.

I looked around the lavish bedroom, I don't see my bag or my phone around me, I could use any of those right now. I need to speak with my father! I need to talk to John from work! He had only given me a few days off, I was going to be spending more than a few days.

I doubt Alessandro would just let me go back to the bar like nothing.

I slipped out of bed, my bare feet meeting marble, and the hem of the ivory silk nightgown someone had put me in brushing against my knees. I didn’t remember changing, or maybe I was too numb to recall.

No phone, no way of getting through to my father except I ask Alessandro for it and I sure as hell am not asking that uncivilized man for anything.

I crossed the room and tried the door. It opened easily and silently. There were no locks but the second I stepped into the corridor, I understood why there didn’t need to be any.

Endless halls stretched out before me, high ceilings, antique vases, heavy wooden doors, and gold-framed mirrors that reflected a version of me I barely recognized.

Every corner had a camera.

Not obvious, if you were not looking for them, but they were there, watching and recording.

My heart thudded faster as I walked, turning one corner, then another, only to be met with more of the same. It was more like a maze. A beautiful prison.

I whispered his name under my breath “Alessandro” like it would summon him. Like I hadn’t already given too much of myself to a man who never truly said what he wanted.

Eventually, I found the kitchen.

It was huge, polished to the point of absurdity. But it didn’t feel like a place where people actually ate. The fridge wouldn’t open. The cabinets were locked. I fumbled with a drawer only to find it empty.

Two women in uniform moved silently through the room. A man stood sharpening a knife at the far end of the island, ignoring me completely.

“Excuse me?” I said.

Nothing.

I stepped closer. “Do you. . . can I get some water?”

One of the women passed by, not even flinching. The man kept working, slow and methodical.

I wasn’t invisible. They just wouldn't acknowledge me. Alessandro keeps treating me like property.

I left the kitchen with a dry throat and a burning knot in my stomach.

By the time I found another sitting room, I sank into the velvet couch, trembling from hunger, nerves, and a humiliation I couldn’t begin to name.

And then I heard footsteps behind me, I turned and it was Luca.

Broad shoulders and stone-faced like his boss, dressed in black like he was the shadow of this house itself. I don't know why I thought he was better than his boss. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed with his jaw drawn tight.

“He is on his way back,” he said. His voice was cool, almost bored, like the first time I met him.

My chest tightened. “Why are you telling me?”

“You should clean up,” he said, ignoring the question. “You don’t want to look like that when he sees you.”

I stood, fists clenched at my sides. “Like what exactly?”

His eyes didn’t flicker. “Like someone who doesn’t belong here.”

That one stung, but I didn’t let him see it.

Instead, I gave him the coldest glare I could manage and turned my back on him, walking out of the room like it didn’t feel like the floor was crumbling beneath my feet.

When I returned to the bedroom, a black silk slip dress had been laid out on the bed. My size.

I changed. Slowly and carefully. I didn’t want to look like a mess. I wanted to look like a challenge.

I braided my hair, smoothed it down, and sat at the window as twilight darkened into night.

Hours passed. I didn’t move.

And then, in the silence, I heard the low purr of tires on gravel.

My heart skipped as I stood, every muscle locked in anticipation. Why am I anticipating his return?

Then I hear footsteps followed by the door opening.

And then the devil appeared.

Backlit by the hallway lights, tall and sharp in a dark wool coat, his face unreadable. His eyes found mine, those fathomless eyes, and for a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe, I felt warmth pass through my entire body. The feeling that makes me want to jump on him and hug him for so long.

But he wasn’t alone.

The woman who stepped in behind him was the kind of beautiful that made other women go silent.

She is Blonde. Elegantly dressed in tailored cream silk, with heels that clicked like punctuation marks. Her smile was poised, but predatory.

And it was meant for me. She scanned the room and then locked her gaze on mine. “Well,” she said. “So this is your new wife.”

I froze.

She stepped forward, not waiting for an invitation. “You’re… Rue, right?”

I didn’t answer.

I looked to Alessandro to give me an explanation to what’s happening. His expression hadn’t changed, and he simply didn't say a word.

She laughed softly. “You’re not very talkative. That’s fine. He likes them quiet.”

Likes them quiet? I clenched my jaw. “Who are you?”

She arched one perfect brow. “I’m Celeste.”

Like I should have known the name.

She reached into her clutch and pulled out a small silver ring, all those kinds you would expect to see in a box from a luxury jeweler. She tossed it on the dresser carelessly. “That used to be mine. Thought I would come say goodbye to it in person.”

My pulse pounded. What the fuck is happening!

I turned to Alessandro. “What is this?”

He still didn't say a word.

The silence he gave was worse than shouting, worse than rage.

Celeste stepped closer, close enough that I could smell her perfume, jasmine mixed with venom.

“He doesn’t explain himself to people like you,” she said sweetly. “But don’t worry. I’m not here to stay. I just wanted to see what kind of stray girl managed to slip her way into his bed.”

Stray.

Something inside me snapped. “Funny. You don’t look like someone who left voluntarily.”

Her smile cracked for half a second. Just a second.

Behind her, Alessandro’s jaw ticked, I wondered if it was a chuckle I heard.

Celeste leaned in, whispering near my ear. “He will get tired of you.”

I smiled back. “That’s even better because then you can have his silence all to yourself.”

We both turned toward Alessandro at the same time, waiting for him to say anything.

But he only walked to the minibar, poured himself a drink, and sat on the edge of the bed like this was just another ordinary night.

No acknowledgment, no explanation. He just keeps looking for ways to make me feel small.

And for the first time since I stepped into his world, I didn’t feel fear, I felt truly angry.

“Why did you bring her here?” I asked, finally.

His eyes met mine. Still silent.

But something flickered in them. A crack or guilt or worse, nothing at all.

Celeste laughed “Good luck, darling. You’ll need it.”

I walked close to him, “You humiliate me,” I whispered. “And you don’t even flinch.”

He looked up at me. His voice was low when he finally spoke. “This world isn’t kind. Don’t expect me to be.”

“Then why marry me?”

He stood. Close enough that I had to tilt my chin to meet his gaze.

His fingers brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, deceptively gentle. “Because you make me feel something. And I need to know if it’s real.”

I blinked. “You’re testing me?”

He didn’t deny it. The silence in his eyes was louder than any answer he could ever give. And I hated how much I still wanted him.