Soft Tides
1128 Words
(Aria)
Vincenzo pushed the door open to reveal a spacious room on the opposite side of the mansion. It looked nothing like the one Luca had originally put me in.
No looming shadows.
No proximity to Luca.
The curtains were light grey which was enough to let the sun in, but thick enough to dim out the night. A small reading nook sat by the window, and the walls were softer……it was warm with muted tones rather than the cold whites of the rest of the mansion.
It felt… livable.
“It’s perfect,” I whispered more to myself.
“Good,” Vincenzo said. “You’ll sleep better here.”
“How do you know I haven’t been sleeping?”
He gave me a sideways glance. “You have the look of someone who hasn’t rested in years.”
I swallowed hard. He was too accurate.
He walked in and opened the wardrobe, checking it like he was inspecting a crime scene.
“You’ll get your clothes later. Chiara is picking them out. She seems to like you.”
A small smile tugged at my lips. “I like her too.”
“She’s loyal,” he said. “And in this place, loyalty is…”
“Rare,” I finished for him.
He nodded in reply.
Silence slipped between us but it was not uncomfortable instead, it was heavy with unspoken things.
“Why does Luca trust you?” I asked before I could stop myself.
He didn’t hesitate before turning to me to answer. “Because he knows I’d die for him. I once took a bullet for him and I would do it over and over again”
The answer was simple and final. He had said so little but I understood it…..the mafia world la familiga.
“And you?” he asked suddenly. “Do you trust him?”
The question felt like a hand closing around my throat.
My mind immediately flashed back to that bloody night.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly.
Vincenzo didn’t press me further. Instead, he stepped back, letting me look around the room in peace.
“I’ll let you settle in,” he said. “If you need anything……anything at all, you come to me. Not Luca. Not Alessio. Me.”
I blinked. “Why?”
His gaze held mine, steady and unreadable.
“Because unlike Luca, I know how to protect something without trying to own it.”
My breath caught in my throat. I wasn’t expecting that answer.
Then he turned around and left.
The room felt too quiet after that, too still. I sank onto the bed and pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to slow down my thoughts.
Luca.
Vincenzo.
This house.
This life.
It was too much too fast.
A soft knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts. Before I could respond, Chiara peeked her head inside, her cheeks were flushed like she had been running.
“Oh good, you’re here,” she said breathlessly. “I brought you some more clothes to start with and—”
She paused, eyes widening as she scanned the room.
“You’re lucky,” she whispered dramatically. “This is one of the nicest rooms in the mansion. Only important guests stay here.”
I curled my knees to my chest. “I don’t feel important.”
“That’s because you’re overwhelmed,” she said, walking in and setting the clothes at the foot of the bed. “It’s normal. This place can feel… intimidating.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
She giggled at that, then sat beside me without hesitation.
“You know,” she said softly, “Vincenzo never offers to show anyone around. Ever. The fact that he walked you here? That he spoke to you?”
I glanced at her. “What does that mean?”
Chiara leaned in like she was sharing a secret.
“It means Luca isn’t the only one watching you.”
I didn’t know whether that comforted me or terrified me.
Maybe both.
Then she nudged my arm lightly. “Come on. I’ll show you the kitchen pantry. It’s where I hide when the house gets too loud. You’ll like it.”
And just like that, for the first time since stepping into the Moretti Mansion, I felt something unfamiliar loosen in my chest.
Not peace.
Not safety.
But… a small, fragile sense of belonging.
Something I hadn’t felt in years.
“Come on,” Chiara suddenly said. “Let’s do some more exploring,”
Chiara led me through the hallway again, her steps light and quick, like she was floating instead of walking. I followed her, hugging my arms to my body as my thoughts tangled together like a messy ball of thread.
The mansion felt different now…..it was still intimidating, still too large, still breathing danger from its walls but no longer entirely hostile. Maybe it was Chiara’s presence. Maybe Vincenzo’s strange gentleness. Maybe the room that didn’t feel like a prison.
Or maybe I was just desperate for anything that remotely resembled normal.
We took a turn into another corridor, narrower this time, with softer lighting.
“This part of the mansion is quieter,” Chiara explained. “Most of the staff rooms are around here. The others….the guards, the men…they stay toward the east wing.”
“So this is the… safe side?” I asked carefully.
She hesitated. “Well… safer.”
I decided not to dwell on what that meant.
She stopped in front of a small wooden door I would have easily overlooked.
“This,” she said proudly, “is my sanctuary.”
She pushed the door open, and I blinked in surprise.
The pantry was bigger than I expected, lined with shelves stacked with jars, spices, baskets of fruit, neatly arranged boxes, and enough pasta to feed an entire army. A warm, buttery smell hung in the air, probably from fresh bread stored nearby.
But what caught my eye was the little corner Chiara had made her own…a stool, a soft cushion, a small stack of romance novels, and a tiny lamp clipped to a shelf.
“You hide here?” I asked, stepping inside.
“Whenever the men start shouting,” she answered easily. “Or when Luca is in a mood. Or when I need a place to breathe.”
I touched the spine of one of the books. “Do they know?”
“Of course not.” She gasped dramatically. “This is top-secret headquarters and you are welcome to use it anytime.”
For the first time in days, a sincere smile crept onto my face and I knew in my heart that I had found a friend amidst the chaos.
- Writer
