I think that settles it. She won't die.
When I check on her later, she's sleeping again, a peaceful expression on her face. Oh, if only she were like this always...
I shake my head at the thought — there would be no fun in that.
I go about my day, spending most of the time on phone calls with contacts from New York and from Sicily, and I manage to glean what the Marchesi have planned for Allegra. The wedding, ten days from now, is the culmination of Marchesi's decade long aspiration of getting into North European markets. With the current leadership, I'm surprised it's even a viable option. Leonardo Marchesi is known for his spendthrift habits, not for his foresight. And the careful planning of the nuptials leads me to believe there might be a hidden player — the brain behind the operation.
It's easy to see what they've done, even without an account from Allegra. They must have known about Franzè's penchant for children, and they'd resolved to keep her looking like one by limiting her intake of food. My guess is that they've also tried to keep her isolated.
When I'd questioned my contact about Allegra specifically, he hadn't even known who she was. He'd only met her sister, Chiara, who, in his own words, was the apple of her parents' eyes.
It seems I wasn't far off in my assessment — she's just a sacrificial lamb.
But you know what they say, one man's trash is another man's treasure. I'll just have to erase the misguided sense of duty she has towards her family from her mind. And the easiest way? Make her miss her own wedding.
"How is she, doctor?" I ask when the man exists her room. I'd found another doctor willing to look after her for the duration of our stay here, mainly because I needed a more unethical one.
"The wound is doing better than I expected. She should be fine as long as she takes care of herself."
"What about the thing I asked you before?" I tap my foot, anxious to hear his opinion.
"It shouldn't be too harmful. Sleep is beneficial at this point as it helps her heal." I nod and give my thanks. Now my plan can officially go ahead.
I return to the room late at night. Allegra is deep asleep at this point. Stepping closer to the bed, I lower the sheet down her body and I brush my hand across her forehead.
Warm... Too warm.
She releases a soft moan, stretching her body so that the sheet completely falls away. The entire bed is soaked, her wet clothes clinging to her skin. She thrashes a little when the breeze hits the damp skin, a shiver enveloping her body.
Shit!
This is exactly what the doctor had warned against. I open the drawer with the medicine, and I take the pills he'd prescribed.
"Easy, little tigress," I whisper, helping her up so she can swallow the pills. She's not protesting this time, and when her eyes open they are dull with pain.
"Cold," she says on whimper that breaks my heart. I quickly take a pair of scissors and cut the shirt off her body, avoiding the injured area to the best of my ability. Then I take off her pants, leaving only her underwear on.
Heading to the bathroom, I fill a basin with water and bring it to her side, using a cloth to gently wipe the sweat off her skin.
"No... no, please no." Her hand pushes at me, her skin covered in goosebumps from the cold. My eyes glaze over her pretty tits, her nipples erect and standing to attention.
Damn...
I swallow. Hard.
"Please..." I deposit the basin on the floor, leaving the cloth inside. Standing up, I strip, remaining only in my underwear, and join her on the bed.
Skin to skin contact is the best way to warm someone up, supposedly. In this case, I'll take that as truth.
I turn her on her good side and bring her close to my skin. My arm sneaks around her waist to keep her flush against me. Her nipples brush against my naked chest and I close my eyes, willing myself to calm down.
"Oh," she moans softly, still shivering. She burrows closer into me, and she throws her leg over my body.
Fuck!
That sudden movement just brought her center into contact with my already rigid cock, and I have to grit my teeth in frustration.
This is what I get for trying to be helpful.
She seems to have found her position, and soon she's fast asleep. I hold on to her, and at some point I drift off too.
It's morning when I'm woken up by a female shriek. I open my eyes to a terrified Allegra clutching the sheet to her chest, her eyes full of tears.
"Please tell me you didn't..." She trails off, and any attempt I might have made at a joke is quickly forgotten. She looks so heartbroken that I can't find it in me to taunt her even more.
"Nothing happened," I stand up, "you were running a fever, and I warmed you up."
"Naked?" She raises an eyebrow at me, but I don't miss the way her eyes dip low down my body before coming right up.
"Sure, what better way to heal you than with my godly body?" I give her a lopsided smile and the sadness seems to melt away from her eyes, replaced with pure anger.
I think I prefer the anger.
"Get out!" She yells at me, throwing a pillow at my retreating figure.
It seems that she's finally on her way to recovery. And the best time to put my plan into motion.
Chapter Seven
I MAY HAVE MISJUDGED the devil. Maybe he feels guilty because I took a bullet meant for him, but he's been on his best behavior.
After my initial period of convalescence, the pain in my arm has subsided to a bearable amount. I'd even made the courage to look at the wound, and while the doctor had stitched it well, it will leave a scar.
One side effect of the healing process, though, has been that I'm always sleepy. I don't know how many hours a day I sleep, but I've started losing track of time, every day blending into the other.
After the bed incident, Enzo hasn't tried to take advantage of me again. He still brings me soup every day, and helps me with my medicine, but he's asked an older woman on his staff to help me with bathing and dressing. Even his taunts have stopped, and I don't know if I should be worried or not.
"The doctor is here to remove your stitches." His words bring me back to reality. I'm wearing only a tank top, so the doctor has easy access to my shoulder.
Enzo remains in the room, watching the doctor's every move.
The process is pretty swift and not as painful as I imagined.
"Continue to keep the area clean," the doctor advises as he leaves, stopping outside the door to have a few more words with Enzo.
I'm already sleepy, even though I woke up a couple hours ago. I head back to the bed, asleep the moment my head hits the pillow.
"IT CAN'T BE..." MY mouth drops open at Enzo's words. Surely not...
"You've been out of it for a good portion of time." He points out, but I'm still in shock.
Because if what he's saying is true, then... I look again at the date, stunned.
My wedding was supposed to be yesterday.
I missed the wedding.
"You don't understand..." I start, but I can't even find the words to explain what will happen to me because of this. And Lia, is she even still alive?
"Shh, little tigress. Everything will be ok. I'll take you back to your parents and explain everything. They'll know it's not your fault. Besides, they should be happy their daughter is alive, right?"
I shake my head. He doesn't get it... doesn't realize what will happen to me. The mere fact that I've been alone with a man...
"Trust me," he continues, using his finger to lift my chin up so I'm looking him in the eyes, "I know your parents and they will believe what I tell them."
I want to protest, to tell him that it won't matter, but he seems so sure of himself, that even I have a moment's doubt. Is it possible that he's right?
For the first time, I decide to put my trust in him. Because, really, what's the alternative?
We leave at first daylight, and instead of going to the port, we go to the airport where a private jet awaits us. In less than
half an hour we're landing back home. A black car stops at the landing strip, and we are welcomed inside.
Maybe Enzo is someone important, and maybe he will convince my parents. We don't really talk as we drive towards my village, but every second we get closer I can't help but feel a void in my stomach — like I know I'm going towards the execution block.
"Don't worry. I have it all under control." Enzo reassures me once more and I just nod.
Stopping in front of my house, the guards take one look at me and Enzo and they communicate something through their comms.
The anxiety is killing me as we're given the green light to go inside. We don't make it past the main yard before my father and my mother are running outside.
"M..." the word doesn't even come out of my mouth as my mother slaps me, the force of it thrusting me backwards. I close my eyes and wait for the rest to come, since I know what to expect. But it doesn't.
"You don't hit her," Enzo's stern voice surprises me, but not as much as the look of awe on my parents' faces.
"You..." my father sputters, his hand immediately going to the gun he keeps in the waist of his pants.
"I don't think you want to do that." Enzo comments arrogantly, and I whip my head around to give him a look.
Is this how he planned to help me explain the situation to my parents?
"You don't know what you've done, stupid girl!" My mother yells at me, her body language telling me she'd like nothing better than drag me by my hair and beat me until I can't stand up. I see the contempt in her eyes, and I know exactly what it means. Once Enzo's gone, I'm dead.
"We had to give your sister to Franzè. Your sister!" She emphasizes the word as if I don't know what my sister means to them. "My sweet Chiara! And it's all your fault!" She charges towards me again.
I can't even muster the fear anymore. Now that I have the confirmation for what awaits me, it's only a matter of when. If this affected Chiara, then there will be hell to pay — by me.
"Did I not make myself clear?" Enzo steps from behind, placing his body in front of me so that he's shielding me from any potential attack. "You don't touch her. You don't yell at her. Are we clear?"
"And who do you think you are to tell me what to do? You think you have any influence around here?" My mother says smugly, but Enzo shrugs, seemingly unbothered.
He takes my hand into his, holding it tightly and raising it in front of my parents. "Her future husband."
"I won't allow that!" Father exclaims, his gun out and pointed at Enzo.
"Really?" Enzo drawls, and my eyes widen at his nonchalance. He's outnumbered, and all the guards are focused on us, ready to take out their weapons too. "Everyone else thinks you've already allowed it," Enzo continues, telling my father to check his phone.
"You..." he looks shocked at whatever he sees on his phone, and he can only shake his head. "You planned this, didn't you? Why?" I'm confused about the exchange between the two of them, but I'm even more surprised when my father begrudgingly accepts Enzo's claim.
"Mario, call the priest!" He shouts at the guard. "We have a wedding to celebrate," he adds, not in the least happy.
"See, I told you." Enzo lowers his head to whisper in my ear as we're guided towards the living room.
"Is that your solution? To marry me?" I grit my teeth, the enormity of the situation dawning on me. But why would he even want to marry me? So I ask him just that. "Why?"
"I'm repaying a debt. You saved my life, and now I save yours." His face is expressionless and I realize he couldn't care less about marrying me.
Dazed, I try to keep my head in the game. Everyone is extremely tense as we head inside the house, and my parents make no secret of their disdain towards me.
"Allegra, go to Cecilia to help you dress. If we're doing this, we're doing it right. You're not embarrassing us again." I nod, and I leave the room, not bothering to look at Enzo. At least I can confirm that Lia is fine.
But she's not. Not really.
When I reach the landing of the stairs, I see the purple bruises on her face and stretching down her neck, into the confines of her clothes.
Oh, Lia!
"Miss!" She comes running towards me, hugging me to her chest.
"I'm so sorry, Lia. It's all my fault." The tears are finally spilling down my cheeks. This is on me. I knew there was no way my parents were going to let her be... That she's still alive is a small mercy.
"Shh, none of that. I heard the news. I'm so happy for you, my child. You won't have to marry that brute of a man."
"But Chiara..." I trail off, worried about my sister. We may not have the best relationship, but she's still family.
"She'll manage. She's managed her entire life to be the one on top." Lia raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to contradict her and knowing I can't.
Chiara's always been my parents' favorite. I'd been told countless times that I'd almost killed my mother at birth, and that in their superstitious mind it meant I was bad luck.
"I should have aborted you the moment I knew I was carrying you too." My mother had spat at me countless of times. By some twist of fate, not long after my birth, she'd been diagnosed with breast cancer and had undergone a double mastectomy. To this day she persists that the only reason she'd gotten ill had been because I'd done something to her body when I'd been born. I'm not a doctor, but I doubt the two are connected. Still, that had meant that I'd been the receiver of such barbs my entire life.
My sister? She was the perfect child. She was the skinny, obedient and pretty sister. She was everything I wasn't and because of that; she was the one they took everywhere with them. The only one worthy of public display.
I can't say that my relationship with Chiara had suffered because of that, since it's never been great to begin with. Even as a child, she'd been malicious and envious. She would always find ways to make herself the victim, and I'd end up the villain. The number of beatings I took for Chiara's wrongful accusations had almost destroyed all the sisterly love that I had for her. But that didn't mean I wanted her to suffer.
"Better her than you." Lia whispers in my ear as she takes me to my room. "You've been punished your entire life for sins that were not yours. And don't make Chiara the victim, since her poisonous tongue harmed you more times than not. I don't even know how you are related to these people." She shakes her head, her voice still low.
Sometimes, I don't know either.
Lia goes to my closet and takes out a simple white dress.
"It's nothing special, since Chiara had to wear your wedding dress. But you'll look beautiful in it." The genuine smile on her face lets me know she's not lying just to make me feel better.
"Thank you." My voice is filled with emotion. I take off my clothes and Lia is horrified when she sees my wound. I shake my head at her, now not the time to get into details.
I slip the dress on and then let Lia fix my hair. Just as she's pinning the last strand to my updo, my mother walks through the door.
"You must be proud of yourself." She jeers at me, closing the door behind her. "But you chose the wrong man, my dear." She gives a fake laugh, hostility coating her words. "I don't know how you embroiled him in this, but make no mistake, he's just using you. You'll be the ugly, unassuming peasant wife raising his kids at home while he's having fun with his whores."
My eyes widen at her words, but she just continues.
"When you see his string of mistresses, every single one prettier, younger," she looks me up and down, "skinnier than you, you'll die a little inside." Mother smirks, crossing her arms in front of her. "And I'll have a front seat at the spectacle that will be your unhappiness."
"I don't care." I push my chin up, trying to show some strength, even though her words hit their mark.
"You may not care now, but we'll see. Remember my words. You thought to sabotage your sister and you'll pay. And there's nothing worse than hope that turns into despair." She doesn't wait for my reply as she exits the room.
"Don
't mind her, miss." Lia tries to comfort me.
While I've at times entertained my idealistic side, I am, most of all, a realist. And though I know she said all that to hurt me, I'm not ignorant. I know he'll have mistresses. I know I don't matter to him.
I can only hope he won't matter to me too.
With one last look in the mirror, I decide I won't let my mother win. If I have to close my heart to everything, then so be it.
But I won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me suffer.
I'll be happy. Even if it kills me inside.
When we're done, we go downstairs, and I take my place next to Enzo. He hasn't looked at me yet, his attention focused wholly on my father and whatever they're discussing.
But I'm surprised when I feel his hand on top of mine, moving it to intertwine our fingers. I accept the touch, trying to put the conversation with my mother out of my mind.
When the priest arrives, we're led in the courtyard where villagers are boisterously laughing and singing, celebrating the wedding. There's food and drink for everyone.
"Is this..." I ask, amazed at the display.
"I had to force your father's hand somehow. A public announcement was the best way, since he values his image too much." Enzo replies, tugging me closer to him and leading me to the priest.
The religious ceremony is short, and the moment we say I do, music starts blasting from the street, the villagers shouting congratulations at us.
"Come." Enzo leads me to an open carriage, helping me up. "We need to give them a show."
The horses neigh, and Enzo takes the reins, leading them forward. We start at a slow trot, and as we move down the street, everyone is outside their house, clapping and shouting words of congratulations, health and love.
"When did you manage this?" I'm in awe. This isn't something that's spontaneously planned.
"I may have whispered in the ear of the village gossip a while ago. It didn't take long for everyone to follow along. After all, there's free food and wine." He winks at me and I don't know whether to be scandalized or impressed.
After we take a turn around the village, we're back at the house. My parents are trying their best to entertain the guests with fake smiles, pretending they'd known about this secondary wedding all along. They'd just wanted to marry their eldest before proceeding with the youngest — or so their excuse goes.
Morally Decadent (Morally Questionable Book 3) Page 9