All Chapters of Six months with the devil: Chapter 11 - Chapter 19

The navy blue dress was spread out on the bed, shimmering under the soft light of the candelabra. Sofia approached it slowly, like someone approaching a wild animal, uncertain whether she should touch it. Lena had already left to fetch the shoes, leaving her alone with the piece of silk that seemed to breathe with a life of its own. Sofia touched the fabric with her fingertips, feeling its softness, its fluidity. It was so different from the rough habit she had worn for four years. So different from everything she knew."It's just a dress," she whispered to herself, repeating Lena's words. "It's not a promise. It's not a vow."But as she slid the silk over her skin, Sofia felt something change inside her. The fabric adjusted to her body like a second skin, accentuating curves she herself didn't know she had. When she finally finished dressing, Sofia walked slowly to the gold-framed mirror that occupied the opposite wall. And she held her breath.The woman looking back at her was not t

The next morning dawned gray and silent, as if the sky itself hesitated to commit to the day. Sofia woke early, as she always did at the convent, but there was no bell to call her to prayer. Instead, there was only the silence of the mansion and the weight of the book that still rested on her nightstand. The Count of Monte Cristo was open to the page where she had stopped the night before, Tony's notes in the margins like small windows into his soul.She spent hours reading, devouring Dumas's words and the mobster's annotations. Some were cold, calculating Revenge is a dish best served cold, others surprisingly poetic "Love is the only force that can break the chains we forge for ourselves." There was a duality in Tony that fascinated and frightened her at the same time.A light touch on the door brought her back to the present."Miss?" It was Lena, with her soft voice. "Mr. Marino asks that you come down for breakfast. There is something he would like to discuss."Sofia dressed quick

The following week passed like a dream from which Sofia couldn't wake. She continued to read in the library, to pray in her room, to walk through the mansion's corridors with the strange feeling that she was being watched, not by cameras or security guards, but by Tony. He didn't bother her, didn't try to get close. He was just there. In the small gestures: a fresh flower on the breakfast table, a new book left in her favorite chair in the library, the chef preparing the dishes she had mentioned she liked.It was a silent, patient, almost respectful courtship, and that frightened her more than any threat. Tony also took her to the olive garden every afternoon. It was the only place where he seemed truly at ease, where his armor fell away and he became just a man, speaking of his grandmother, his childhood, his regrets. Sofia listened in silence, responding with stories of the convent, of the peace she had found in prayer, of the fears she had faced when leaving the world.That afternoo

Sofia didn't sleep that night. She lay in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, while the hours dragged slowly. The images of the east wing still burned in her mind Elena's photographs, the baby's room, Tony's face when he confessed his pain. There was something sacred in that pain, something that touched her deeply and left her restless.When the first rays of sun began to color the sky, Sofia got up. She dressed in silence, without calling Lena, and left the room. She needed a place to think. A place to pray.The library wasn't enough. Dumas's words and Tony's thoughts in the margins of the books distracted her. She needed silence. She needed God.She walked through the mansion's corridors aimlessly, her feet sliding over the Persian rugs, her eyes wandering over the walls covered in paintings. The mansion was a labyrinth, a place full of secrets and shadows. Sofia already knew the library, the terrace, the olive garden. But there were still corners she hadn't explored.That was when she

The days that followed the walk through the city were the lightest since Sofia arrived at the mansion.She and Tony established a silent routine. Breakfast together, he reading the newspaper, she flipping through a book. Afternoons on the terrace, among the olive trees, talking about everything and nothing. Nights in the library, each in their own armchair, reading in silence, but aware of each other's presence.Sofia began to forget she was a prisoner. She began to forget the walls, the debt, the fear. She began to forget that Tony Marino was a mobster.That was why the shock was so violent.That afternoon, Sofia was coming down the stairs toward the library when she heard voices. Raised voices, charged with tension. She stopped in the middle of the corridor, her heart racing."You think you can deceive me?" Tony's voice was cold, sharp as a blade. "You think I don't know what you did?"Sofia should have turned back. Should have gone upstairs, gone to her room, pretended she hadn't h