Chapter 16: Resistance. Sounds Easy

I walk into the kitchen after my encounter with Salvatore and only see Ashley there.

“Was it a good walk?” she asks while chopping some fruit.

“Very good, and quite entertaining,” I reply as I walk over to the fridge and grab a bottle of water. I take a large gulp and let out a breath.

I glance from the door to Ashley, wondering if I should do what I’m thinking. “Where is Molly?”

“She’s in the laundry room. Today is linen day, so we started early,” she announces.

Perfect. I guess it will be easier then.

“Can I ask you a question?” I say in a low voice, and she nods. “Did you…? Did you know Salvatore’s first wife? Did you know Ginevra?”

She stops cutting and holds her gaze on the fruit for a few seconds before looking up at me.

“Yes, of course,” she replies in a casual tone, “I’ve been working here for three years.”

“So, you were here when she passed away?”

“Yes, a terrible accident. Mr. Salvatore had a really hard time back then.”

I can imagine.

“I see. But you don't know anything about the accident?”

She shakes her head. “It was really a topic the family preferred to keep private. I know the same as everyone else: she left that morning, and a short time later, they called with the fateful news.”

“I see. So, you don’t know if they were arguing or anything like that?”

She shakes her head again. “Mrs. Ginevra was very patient.” Her tone is almost exasperating. “She was kind, but she lived for and through her husband.”

I understand why Salvatore is the way he is. Maybe he thought I would be the same—a submissive woman only there to follow his orders.

Ashley cuts some fruit but stops as if thinking of something and sets the knife aside. “If you ask me, I found her to be a very gray woman. Yes, she was polite, condescending… too much for my taste.”

“You think so?” A figure appears in the kitchen doorway, and I see Aldo, so I completely change the subject. “So, tell me, Ashley, what are your long-term plans?” I inquire, leaning against the counter and playing with the water bottle. I give her a wink.

“Well, I’m in my last year of university.”

“That’s fantastic.”

“Yes, I’m going to graduate as an accountant.”

“You’ll undoubtedly have better opportunities. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to talk to me.”

She looks surprised by my words. “Thank you very much,” she smiles, a bit embarrassed.

“Are you done cutting the fruit, or are you going to keep chatting as if it were your day off?”

What a dreadful man.

“Hey, Aldo, can you take the stick out of your ass? You’re starting to annoy me,” I snap before considering my words, but I’m already fed up.

Ashley’s eyes widen in surprise, and Aldo straightens up, looking at me seriously.

“I apologize that my professionalism seems bothersome to you, but I must remind you that the staff has rules and duties they must comply with.”

“Fine, but in this case, I’m the one bothering Ashley. She’s only being polite by answering my curious questions about her life.”

“Ma’am,” he grinds the word out between his teeth, but instead of getting angry, I give him a smug smile.

“That’s right, I’m Salvatore’s wife. I suppose I have the same rights to discuss whatever I want with the staff who help us.”

“Allow me to differ, darling.” Evelina appears in the kitchen. “This is my house, and no one oversteps me. I have the final say.”

“It’s your house, but you’re not my owner, much less are you superior to me. Evelina, I think we can reach an agreement. To live in peace without having this discussion, this power struggle. Besides, I didn’t know I had to ask permission to speak with Ashley or Molly?”

“You’re wasting their time. Time they could use for more productive things.”

“What a great way to start the morning,” Salvatore walks in from the garden, still shirtless.

“On that, we agree, dear husband,” I retort sarcastically. I look at Ashley and wink. “Don’t forget to add a little extra bile to Evelina’s coffee.”

I leave mother and son in the kitchen and head upstairs to get ready this morning. I thought it would be a pleasant morning, but clearly, it’s not. Everyone in this cursed house loves to make my life miserable. I huff in frustration as I kick off my shoes. I pull off my top when the door opens and I stifle a curse, clutching the garment to my chest.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

He raises an eyebrow at my reaction and clears his throat. “Stop behaving the way you are. My mother…”

“Your mother loves to annoy me. If she doesn't change her attitude, I’m going to leave this place. Imagine what they’ll say if the bride abandons the house right before the wedding? Your family will be the talk of the town,” I continue. “I hope your parents can handle that.”

“I’m getting tired of your attitude.”

Now I’m the one with the bad attitude?

“Likewise. Now get out of the room. I need to get ready for work.”

“And what if I don’t feel like doing what you demand?”

I straighten up and press the top harder against my chest. “Salvatore, grow up and act like a man your age, alright?”

I watch his eyes ignite at my words.

“What did you just say?” he inquires in a low tone, closing the door behind him. I instinctively take a step back.

I take a deep breath and try to look bored, even though I feel trapped with him in the room, especially with his shirtless torso exposed.

“You heard me. You shouldn’t say so many stupid things,” I murmur, trying to sound normal.

His proximity makes my body react, even though my mind tells me he’s an idiot. I hate that this happens to me, especially when it’s Salvatore.

He takes another step, and this time, I refuse to back away. His hand grips my neck, and his breath sweeps across my face as his eyes dart from mine to my mouth. He holds the gaze for a few silent seconds, brings my face closer to his, and I close my eyes for an instant, thinking he’s going to kiss me, only to hear him laugh. I blink in confusion, and he shakes his head as he releases me and steps back.

“Don’t tell me you thought I would kiss you?” He clicks his tongue. “Act your age, woman. Wait, I forgot you’re nothing but a child.”

I’m going to kill him, that son of a bitch.

“Get out, now!” I shriek, furious with myself for letting him get that close.

“Have a good day,” he retorts instead, before walking out as if nothing happened.

I let my hands drop and count to ten before heading into the bathroom, where I shower quickly, replaying the scene over and over and thinking how stupid I looked in front of him.

Did I really expect him to kiss me? Of course not! Besides, I doubt he’d ever dare to do it; the last time, I nearly ripped his tongue out.

A smile pulls at my lips as I recall that unfortunate incident for him.

I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel to dry my hair in front of the sink. I try not to feel embarrassed about how my body reacts to the man. I focus on what I have to do.

Resistance. Sounds easy.

But it’s not! my conscience screams.

Maybe I should find some entertainment; that would help with this drought that is working against me.

“Stop thinking nonsense,” I scold myself.

I finish my hair and put it up in a high ponytail. I put on my makeup and choose my outfit for the day: a long-sleeved white satin blouse with a tie-neck bow, which I pair with a black leather skirt featuring a side slit, and matching black lace-up boots.

Satisfied with how I look, I decide to go down for breakfast. I should leave, but if they love to annoy me, I can annoy them with my presence too.

In the dining room, I find everyone eating breakfast, including Salvatore, who is now wearing a tailored suit, which surprises me, as the mark on his neck is still slightly visible. But it’s obvious he won’t endure a second day wearing a turtleneck.

He gives me an inscrutable look; nevertheless, I continue and take a seat in silence and do as they do—I ignore everyone. I pour myself some juice and take two squares of frittata from the tray.

“Are we just going to pretend nothing is wrong? Because it’s obvious that something is.”

Renzo’s words cut through the silence. I bite my tongue.

“It’s simple, brother,” Martina replies. “Mom put a certain person who thinks she has authority in this house in her place.”

“Was that really it? Or did you hit your head when my mare threw you to the ground?” I say sarcastically, and I see her flush with rage when she realizes I know what she did.

“The mare threw you?” Renzo inquires, chuckling under his breath.

“I’m not going to talk about it.”

“But I am,” I intervene in the calmest tone I can find. “I know it’s your house,” I look at everyone at the table, including Salvatore. “However, Freya has only had me—no one else rides her—and what you did was dangerous for both of you. You could have been hurt,” which I don't care about, but I keep that to myself to avoid another round of sparring, “or my mare could have been injured.”

Martina opens her mouth, and I brace myself for one of her retorts, supported by her mother.

“Helena is right about this,” Salvatore says before anyone else, and I look at him as if he’s grown a second head.

“What did you say?” I can’t help but ask.

He looks at me sidelong. “I said it’s obvious that Freya is a mare accustomed only to Helena,” he continues, but he looks at his sister. “Trying to ride her was wrong. You could have been hurt.”

“Listen to your brother, dear,” Evelina seconds, “Besides, there are many other horses you can ride.”

It's clear she only says this to look good in front of Salvatore.

“Speaking of something else,” Gianluca intervenes, drawing attention. “I heard you two are traveling to London this weekend.”

Yay! Thanks for reminding me of my misfortune, father-in-law.

“Manson and his wife invited Helena and me. Given that he’s about to give in and sell the property for the next project, it’s impossible to snub him.”

“Good, since you’re going together, we’ll say you went on a romantic getaway since you didn’t have a honeymoon,” Evelina blurts out casually. “They’re asking at the club why it didn't happen.”

This woman…

“It must be because we’re a sham,” I say before taking a sip of my juice.

“Regardless, they’re still asking. They want to know the juiciest details of your relationship.”

“Well, you can tell them that he tried to choke your bambino. That’s sure to give them plenty to talk about.”

She gives me a look of hatred. Beside me, Renzo chokes, while Gianluca and Martina look serious. Salvatore sighs and mutters under his breath.

“That’s enough, Helena. I think we’ve had enough disputes, and it’s not even ten o’clock.”

“Are we going to set an hourly limit for being nasty? I love it! That would save me from always having to be ready to attack.” I look around at everyone as I stand up. “Just pass me the schedule later.”

Without another word, I go up for my bag and briefcase to leave the villa.

Definitely, every day I adapt more to my duties in the position I share with Lorenzo. I have a list of things we can improve and review for the next meeting. The hotels have great potential, and I am certain we can make some changes to generate more profit from them. That would show a small but encouraging growth for the first quarter of next year.

“Do you have time to grab lunch with me?” Antonio enters my office since the door is open.

I check the time and my eyes widen. “The morning flew by,” I murmur as I stand up. “I’m sorry, Antonio, but I’m going to use my lunch break to pick up a few things. I’m traveling to London this weekend, and I need a couple of items of clothing.”

“Going back to visit friends? Your father didn’t mention anything.”

I grab my bag and close my laptop. “No, I’m going with Salvatore for the weekend.” Although it’s not an unreasonable idea, it would be nice to see my friends. After all, I can take advantage of the trip.

“Wow, I didn’t know everything was going so well between you two that you’re even traveling together.”

I give him a forced smile. “Well, he is my husband…”

“You don’t have to lie to me, we’re friends, and it’s clear why you got married, but I’m truly glad you’re getting along.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, a little flustered.

If he knew we’ve been close to killing each other, he wouldn’t say that.

I walk around the desk, and he follows me. “I won’t be long,” I tell Livia, who nods from her desk.

I reach the elevator and push the button to call it.

“Helena?” Antonio calls me, and I turn to look at him. “You know you can talk to me about anything. I’ll always be here for you.”

I smile softly at the man I’ve known since I was a child and for whom, at one point in my life, I felt a crush. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind,” I reply as the elevator doors open and I step inside. I press the corresponding button and the doors close, but not before allowing me to see the indecipherable look Antonio gives me.

I leave the hotel and walk the streets of Florence to Via de’ Calzaiuoli, where there are countless shops and places to eat. My goal is to find a new pair of shoes, some clothing, and a suitable dress for a dinner with the Roberts.

I start my search with shoes and find some blue Jimmy Choos that will look great with several outfits. I move through the store and find some beautiful Louis Vuitton ankle boots. They have a strap around the ankle with a golden LV adornment on the side. It’s elegant and my style.

I ask the saleswoman for my size, and she goes to fetch them. I walk through the store, looking at a sandal model when I see her on the other side.

Eva.

“Shopping?” she inquires, twisting her mouth.

“That’s right,” I murmur, trying to ignore her.

“Miss, can you bring these in a seven and a half?” she asks in a smug tone. “Red. My man loves how red looks on me,” she says with a huge smile.

“If you say so,” I mutter and keep walking until I see the saleswoman with my shoes. I approach and, ignoring Eva flitting around the store, grabbing shoes and demanding they find the right size, I try on mine.

The Jimmy Choos are fabulous, but the ankle boots win the prize.

“They look very good on you,” the saleswoman tells me.

“Thank you, I have a trip, and I’d love to take these,” I murmur.

“I want the red ones, are you deaf?” I hear Eva say acidly.

“I’ll take both,” I say as I take them off, and the saleswoman takes them to the register while I put my own boots back on. Eva sits next to me and slips on the red shoes.

“They’re perfect,” she murmurs conspiratorially. “You know what can take it up a notch?” I don't reply, but that doesn't stop her because she continues: “Some sexy lingerie.” She sighs dramatically. “I’m sure my man will love tearing it off me,” she concludes her monologue with a stupid giggle.

I finish adjusting the first boot before looking at her. “Congratulations,” I murmur with an indifferent tone because, really, what do I care?

“But not everything is perfect, because he’s married,” she makes a fake pout. I continue with the other boot and start tying the laces. Right now, I regret wearing these this morning.

Can’t she just shut up?

“I’m sorry,” I say indifferently as I finish my boot, stand up, and look at her. She has a look of amusement.

“I’m sorry for his wife. He wants me, and he won’t even touch her. He detests her,” she sighs. “He only married her for convenience.” She stands up and laughs. “She can have the ring,” she whispers, “but I have the rest.”

She winks at me.

“Good luck with your trip,” she says, walking away toward a full-length mirror.

Why do I feel like she’s mocking me? My eyes widen as the idea crosses my mind. Could it be?

I’ll chop off your dick and feed it to you in pieces, Salvatore.

Well, I suppose that’s something I need to find out.