We spend some time with the guests, when suddenly we're being rushed and locked inside a room.
"What..." I look around at the barren room, a single bed with white linens in the center.
"I assume they expect us to consummate the marriage." Enzo says slowly, quirking an eyebrow at me.
"Yeah, no," I put my hand up, "that's not happening, mister." I take my shoes off, throwing them on the floor and I lay on the bed, confused.
The entire thing had been a whirlwind affair that I hadn't even had the time to come to grips with what's happening.
I'm married. To him.
I look at him from the corner of my eye. He's propped with his back against the door, watching me intently.
"Why did you do it?" I raise myself up on my elbows.
"I told you. I don't like to be indebted to anyone. This marriage will ensure your safety."
"Nothing else?" I ask, skeptical. In the time I've known Enzo, which albeit isn't much, I've come to realize he does nothing without an ulterior motive.
"What else? You took a bullet for me, I took a vow for you." He sheds his jacket, discarding it on the floor before joining me on the bed.
I scramble to move away from him, but he pins me on the spot.
"Where are you running to? We have a wedding night to consummate, cara." His voice holds his usual charm, and I roll my eyes at him.
"You don't want this any more than I do, so let's drop the charade."
"And you know what I want, how?" Raising an eyebrow at me, he catches a stray strand of hair, tugging until my entire updo collapses, my hair flowing freely down my back.
I turn fully towards him.
"You may be a handsome devil, Enzo Agosti, but you don't fool me." I say, looking into his eyes. His pupils dilate, his unusually light eyes becoming darker. "I can see the emptiness inside of you. You put on a mask and keep everyone at arm's length. You flirt, play games and push the limits, but it's all for show."
"And you're suddenly an expert on me?" All amusement is gone from his voice, and I think I catch the first glimpse of the real Enzo.
"No. I'm not. But I'm an expert on me." I lean into him, our faces inches apart. I'm merely playing his game, and for once it feels good to be the one in control. "And I'm just as empty as you are. That's why I know we can never be. Two voids do not make one whole."
"No," his mouth pulls up slightly, "they make an abyss. What do you say, little tigress? How about we let go? Succumb to a free fall?" His hand is still playing with my hair, his eyes no longer on me.
"No." I shake my head lightly. "Falling is losing. And I don't plan to lose. Never again." For once, I'm going to prove my parents wrong. I'll make the best out of these circumstances... Somehow.
"Then we're in agreement." He chuckles, his features relaxing, and I realize he had no intention of consummating the marriage.
He doesn't see you as a woman.
A tiny voice inside of me just won't shut up. I try to mute it, because it can only mean I'm disappointed he doesn't find me attractive. And that's certainly not the case.
He turns on his back, staring at the ceiling.
"We can be partners."
"Partners?" I echo his words, the notion entirely foreign.
"We may not be able to fill the void in each other. But we can make sure it doesn't get bigger."
I lean into the pillow, staring at the same ceiling he seems to find so interesting.
"Ok." I agree.
I'll be fine.
As long as my happiness does not depend on him, I'll never have to worry about my mother's words.
And for the first time, maybe I'll be free.
PART II
He was so intoxicatingly beautiful, but so sinfully wicked. I rue the day I trusted him with my fate.
-From the diary of Allegra
Chapter Eight
LOOKING OUT THE PLANE window, I can barely believe that I'm about to cross an ocean and head to a city I'd only read about.
After the wedding night, we hadn't lingered. Enzo had presented sheets stained with fake blood, and we'd made ourselves scarce among the shouts of congratulations and other lewd words from the crowed. I hadn't even spoken to my parents, but Enzo had assured me he'd had words with them and they wouldn't be a problem anymore.
But knowing my parents... it's not exactly reassuring.
I get a few hours of sleep before I'm woken up by Enzo, who lets me know we've arrived. We pass through immigration and then we're soon out of the gates and towards a black SUV waiting for us.
It's almost evening by the time we pull in front of a large, opulent mansion. Enzo guides me inside, but I can't help but stare in awe at the architecture — it's like living in art.
"Close that mouth, little tigress. The worst has just begun." Enzo comments as he opens the entrance door, leading me down the double doors and into a huge marble foyer. It's unlike anything I've ever seen. Even his palazzo in Gozo pales in comparison. Every corner of the house is intricately constructed in a fashion reminiscent of Baroque art. The gilded statues, as well as the staircase, confirm my thoughts that the house is decorated in a Baroque style.
"Ana, please call my parents." Enzo's voice startles me, and I try to ground myself.
We sit in the middle of the hall until a middle-aged couple comes down the stairs. I plaster a smile on my face, hoping to make a good impression.
"Enzo, what is the meaning of this?" The cultured voice of a woman asks when they reach the landing. She's dressed in a cream dress that seems entirely too luxurious to be worn at home. One hand holds a glass of alcohol while the other is intertwined with the older gentleman, who I'm guessing is Enzo's father.
The couple's gaze is fixed on my small luggage, and they both scowl. They both slowly raise their eyes to look at me, their scrutiny a little unsettling.
"Mother, father. Meet my new wife, Allegra Marchesi." Enzo is quick to make the introductions.
"Pleased to meet you," I try my best to answer in English, since that seems to be their preferred language. But since I've never actually spoken the language out loud, my accent is quite simply awful.
For good measure, I widen my smile, hoping they will like me.
"Her?" Enzo's mother asks in disbelief, her tone curt. She swings her gaze back to me, and for a minute she doesn't speak as she looks at me closely. Then she just bursts out in laughter. "Her?" She repeats, laughing. Even Enzo's father joins in, chuckling.
"Is this supposed to be a joke, son?"
I turn to Enzo, and even though his face doesn't show it, he's not happy. His fists are clenched, and he forces his words out.
"No. It isn't a joke, father. Allegra is my official wife. We were wed yesterday in Milena."
His parents start laughing, seemingly understanding it's not a joke. But the expression they settle on doesn't warm me. No, they look at me as if I'm the most contemptible thing on earth.
"You're married. To her?" His mother asks again, a look of shock on her face. "Good gracious!" She exclaims before turning her back and leaving towards the kitchen.
"Rocco." Enzo's father introduces himself with a nod, motioning Enzo towards another area of the house.
"Ana, take Allegra to my room." Enzo says before leaving with his father.
Ana leads me up the stairs to a big bedroom on the first floor. She leaves my meager belongings on the floor before leaving.
I stare at the room, so unfamiliar, and I can't shake this feeling of unease. I didn't expect his parents to welcome me with open arms, but neither did I expect this type of reaction.
Before I lose my courage, I open the door and go back downstairs, turning to the right where I'd seen Rocco and Enzo go. When I'm on a narrow corridor, I just follow the sound of voices, until I'm in front of an ajar door. The space is big enough to allow me to snoop, but small enough so they can't see me.
In any other circumstances I might have felt guilty for eavesdropping, but this is my life, and I need to know e
xactly what I'm dealing with. Especially since Enzo's been extremely tight lipped regarding his parents.
A loud noise resembling a slap brings me to attention. I take a step forward and I see Enzo's head turned to the side. My eyes widen, and I bring my hand to my mouth.
"Do you fucking understand what you've done?" Rocco yells at him, pacing around the room. "I was due to sign the marriage contract tomorrow. And you went and married some village slut without my approval. Do you realize what you've done? You ruined our chances..."
"Father," Enzo starts, interrupting him, "Allegra is not some village slut. She's a Marchesi, and you should respect that."
Rocco scoffs, almost laughing. "Respect a Marchesi? Are you mad, son? Did too much sun addle your brains? How the fuck did you end up shackled with that girl? Did you knock her up? For fuck's sake, you could have paid her to have an abortion, you didn't have to marry her!"
I almost gasp at the way he's talking about me, but I hold myself in check.
They can't know I'm here!
"No, she's not pregnant."
"Then why..."
Again, Enzo doesn't let Rocco finish as he continues.
"I was attacked on my way to a delivery. Three times." He starts describing his encounters with those dangerous people, and a smile threatens to overwhelm me. He's going to tell him how I saved him. Maybe then they'll see I'm not that bad.
"Do you know why they wanted to kill me?" Enzo pauses for dramatic effect. "Because of your understanding with Guerra. And who would want to make sure Guerra stays isolated?"
"DeVille." Rocco coughs, almost reluctantly agreeing.
"Indeed. It seems they aren't above killing a future capo to ensure the Guerras have no connections. Don't you see what would have happened if I married Gianna? I would have had to sleep with an eye open on the lookout for DeVille and their goons. And they would have never stopped until they separated us from Guerra again. Now tell me, would you still have me go through with the contract?"
Enzo's voice hasn't betrayed any emotion so far. He's using logic to make his father see reason, but even though I admire his methods, I can't help but feel blindsided.
He never told me any of that.
He'd made it seem like he was marrying me to pay a debt, when in fact, he'd been doing everything to benefit his own self.
"And the only way for you to get out of this arrangement is for me to be already married. You can easily say you didn't know. That I did it behind your back. I don't know, make something up. But as it stands, I've solved two problems. I got rid of the DeVille target off our backs, and I got married. Does it really matter that it's not Gianna?"
"Son, I understand why you did what you did." Rocco says eventually. "But really, couldn't you have chosen someone less... hideous?"
I gasp, but before I can hear Enzo's reply, a hand latches onto my hair, dragging me backwards. I stumble, falling to the ground, only to see Enzo's mother looking at me with murder in her eyes. I yelp in pain, but she doesn't stop as she keeps on dragging me by my hair.
"Stop, it hurts!" I burst out, trying to get her hand out of my hair.
"Is that why you came here? To spy on us? Fucking cow!"
I feel a blinding pain at my scalp as she keeps on pulling on my hair and tears threaten to spill out of my eyes.
"No, I just..."
"Fucking whore! I don't know how you managed to latch on to my son, but I won't have it. How could he exchange someone angelic like Gianna for someone like you?" She flings me forward, the shiny floor making me slide down until I'm on my belly. I groan in pain, but she doesn't stop.
She kneels in front of me, and taking me by the nape, she forces me to look at her.
"My perfect son would never stoop so low to be with someone like you." She spits out the word someone, as if I were the wretch of the earth.
"Let me go, please." I try to reason with her, but there's something in her eyes that makes me doubt she's going to release me.
"Tell me, did you slide on his dick just to get pregnant? Is that it?"
She doesn't even let me reply as she stands up, coming to my side and kicking me hard in the stomach. I gasp, and there's a moment where I feel like I can't breathe anymore, the force of her foot against my torso making me bite my tongue in pain.
"I'll teach you pregnant, you fucking slut." The tip of her shoe catches me right between my ribs, and the pain is almost too much.
"Not. Pregnant." I barely manage the words out, whizzing from having the air knocked out of me repeatedly.
This seems to make her stop, and out of the blue, she comes down on her knees in front of me, stroking my hair and murmuring soft words.
"What happened?" Enzo's voice booms from behind.
"Poor thing, she tripped and fell. Here, let me help you." She grabs my arms, holding me up. All the while, I can only stare in shock at the act she's putting on.
"No, let me." Enzo says, pushing his mother aside and taking me in his arms.
"Take care of her, will you, Enzo? I'll ask Ana to bring her some tea." His mother continues to talk, and as Enzo carries me up the stairs, I can see her smirk down at me.
Dear God, what did I get myself into?
Enzo kicks open the door to the room and deposits me on the bed.
"Are you ok? Where are you hurt?" He asks, and maybe if I hadn't overheard what I did, or if his mother hadn't gone all psycho on me, I might have found it sweet.
"I don't need your pity! Can we just go back to hating each other?" I say, resentment clawing at my insides. He played me. All to save his own skin.
And what do I get? Nothing. No family to turn to — not that I ever had one — and no one to lean on.
A sudden rage explodes in my chest, and as I look down into his face, I only get more frustrated.
"It's all your fault!" I burst out, my clenched fists knocking into his chest. The tears are finally flowing. For all I'd tried to keep my bravado when his mother had attempted to make me miscarry a non-existent child, it all spills out.
"Why me? Why did you have to involve me in your damn problems? Why? What did I ever do to you?" I wail as I keep hitting him. My cries soon turn to hiccups, but I don't slow down, and he doesn't stop me.
No, he just lays there, taking it all, but his inaction is only spurring my own.
"Why?" I yell at him, holding on to the lapels of his shirt and shaking him. "Why did you have to ruin me?" Worn down, I finally stop, my palms spreading over his chest, my hiccups an unrelenting echo.
"Shh, little tigress, shh." His hand comes around my waist, and he tugs me to his chest. "I understand it's all very foreign. But give it time. You'll get used to everything." His fingers gently caress my hair, and I'm reminded of what his mother tried to do.
"Why me?" I ask again, my voice hoarse from screaming. Why did he have to mess with my life?
"I don't know what you think you heard, little tigress, but let me make one thing clear." He grabs my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. "You're mine. You'll carry my name, live in my house, and bear my children. There's no way out. You stopped having a choice the moment you put yourself in front of that bullet for me." He says, his tone serious.
"I don't understand..." I whisper, raising my tear streaked eyes towards him. "Should I have just let you die?" I ask, bewildered.
"You should have. At least then you would have had a choice. Now..." A cruel smile appears on his face.
"You said we'd be partners, or was that a lie too?" A lot of things are suddenly becoming clear, and I find myself in a worse situation than before — if that's even possible.
"It's good if you keep believing that. But make no mistake, there's no going back," his hand moves lower in a soft caress, "you're mine. Till death do us apart."
"So that's it... you're just using me." I say, deadpan. Why didn't I see this before? It was staring me right in the face. "I'm just a toy for you to do as you please with."
"Sweetheart," he starts, his voice a twisted
melody that tugs at my heart, painfully squeezing it, "if I were using you, I would have already fucked you and discarded you... used you like a common whore, no?" Every single word he utters stuns me even more... How is this the same man who took care of me when I was sick?
But he needed me then, didn't he? Now he doesn't anymore. He can show me who he truly is.
"Why haven't you? I think that would complete the humiliation; wouldn't you say? Go on, finish what you started." I push myself up and start tearing at my clothes until I'm standing naked in front of him. "Come on! Do it! Isn't that what you men do? You take and take until there's nothing left. Come, take me and make me hate you even more than I already do." I shout, my voice coming out in painful spurts.
A hand wraps itself around my throat and I'm thrust on the bed, my back hitting the clean sheets.
"Is that what you want? You want me to take you like a fucking whore?" His voice cracks, the first real emotion I've seen of him all day.
His body on top of mine, he starts unbuckling his pants.
This is it... This is where I lose myself.
I turn my head to the side, not wanting to see him, not wanting to feel anything. My tears fall down my face, staining the sheet. And I just lay there, awaiting the pain... the humiliation... the feeling of being used and discarded.
But it doesn't come. Just as fast, he's off me and out the door, slamming it behind him.
I can only turn on my side and curl into a fetal position, finally letting go. My entire body is hurting, but there is one place that eclipses that pain — my chest.
Why did I let myself believe in him? Because I must have, at some point, if I'm hurting this much. But the pain also brings with it a new type of lucidity. I look back on his behavior, the way he'd treated me at the palazzo and how he'd ensured I didn't make it to my wedding.
He'd planned everything from the beginning.
Morally Decadent (Morally Questionable Book 3) Page 10