THE ITALIAN'S MISTAKEN REVENGE

Chapter 3: Obedience

Obedience

A ray of sunlight slips through the curtains, signaling that a new day has arrived.

This was supposed to be my first morning as a newlywed, but Salvatore never showed up. I don't know whether to feel relieved or humiliated.

So I sit on the bed still wearing last night's dress. My phone rings, and I frown, reaching out and stifling a yawn before answering.

"Hello?"

"I want you in the office in an hour."

Dad.

"Good morning to you too," I whisper as I stand up and stretch.

He clears his throat.

"How was your night? I mean, you know, are you with your husband?"

I snort.

"No, Salvatore decided to have a party of his own," I say sarcastically and hear my father choke.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Just joking," I lie, "but we didn't share a bed." I hesitate a bit, "I'm at the Portrait Firenze."

"I'll send the driver. I expect you in an hour," he repeats before hanging up.

I let the phone drop onto the bed, look around the room, and snort. I shuffle away and head to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

I check my travel bag and breathe a sigh of relief to have a second outfit; I had packed a faux leather skirt and a long-sleeved satin blouse with a V-neck. I keep the sandals I wore yesterday. In front of the bathroom mirror, I fix my brown hair and apply makeup to highlight my blue eyes and barely put on some lipstick.

I spray on some perfume, gather everything, and put it in the bag I brought with me yesterday just as there's a knock at the door. I walk over and open it curiously, and a waiter appears in front of me pushing a cart.

"Mr. Di Sante ordered breakfast to be brought to you, he hopes to join you in a few minutes," he announces as I step aside and he pushes the cart inside.

"Excuse me," he murmurs, leaving the room.

"So the magnanimous Di Sante is going to deign to have breakfast with me?" I ask no one. Of course.

I move through the room, grab the bag and my phone before leaving the room.

"Enjoy your breakfast, husband," I murmur, walking down the hallway and getting into the elevator.

In the lobby, I feel the staff's eyes on me; however, I keep my gaze forward until I reach the exit where my father's driver is already waiting, opening the back door, and I get in. The familiar morning drive through the streets of Florence makes me feel at home. The driver skillfully avoids traffic, and when he parks outside the Rossetti hotel, the valet opens the door, and I get out, leaving my travel bag in the car.

Once inside, I head to the offices, and my father's assistant stands up behind her desk as she greets me.

"Mr. Rossetti is expecting you."

"Thank you," I reply curtly and open the door to his office to find him sitting in his chair, looking out the windows that light up the room.

"For someone who's just married, you don't look very happy," he murmurs, watching me as I take a seat in front of him.

"I didn't realize you had a sense of humor, Dad."

He gives a forced smile.

"Your mother will send your things to the Di Sante mansion this afternoon, so I'll patiently wait for your news about my grandchild."

"I've already told you what I think, and I'm not planning to have a child just to be a pawn for you or the Di Santes."

"They will pay for our deaths, and they'll do it from within; that's your mission for the family."

"I got married, the Ferrettis have lost a potential ally, isn't that enough?"

He slams the table.

"No! Don't mess it up, Helena. I need you to dominate Salvatore and make him do whatever you want. Mold the man like clay in your hands," he raises his eyebrows, and I glare at him. "That and a child will be our crown jewel."

"As if it were that easy to take him down," I retort, "do you think Salvatore is an i***t?"

Dad traces his finger over the glass of the desk and gives me a mocking look.

"Come on, Helena. Use your feminine charms."

"So you're telling me to use s*x as a bargaining chip, right?"

It's not a question.

"I gave you the best education at the finest schools and university," he continues in a deceptively soft tone, "you're an intelligent and very beautiful woman. Use that to your advantage."

"I'm not promising anything," I clear my throat and ignore his gleaming gaze. "I suppose you didn't call me here to find out how my wedding night was, did you?"

"No, I called you because I want you to join me in managing the hotels. It's time for you to dedicate yourself to your inheritance. I need you here, at least in the mornings."

My father's ways are strange; sometimes he says things that can be interpreted as sexist, but at the same time, he's groomed me to take control of the business. I'm his only daughter, and he has never placed me below the men in the family.

The door opens, and a head of dark hair appears.

"Uncle, did you call for me?"

"Come in, Lorenzo," he says with a gesture. "You arrive just in time because I was talking to Helena about her future in the company."

He nods at me and gives me a somewhat forced smile.

"I thought that now being Di Sante's wife, you wouldn't..."

"You're wrong because no one will stop me from claiming what's rightfully mine," I interrupt him.

"Of course, dear cousin, no less."

Lorenzo had been orphaned amid the family dispute, being the son of Dad's younger brother. He took him in as a second son and gave him everything he could, including love and time while I was sent away for years.

"Besides," Dad continues, pulling me out of my thoughts as Lorenzo takes a seat in the free chair next to me, "we need to carry out the business merger with the Di Santes."

"Don't get me wrong, Uncle, but taking on the construction of the hotel in Inverness and partnering with that family, who are a bunch of criminals, is a disaster waiting to happen."

"Well, I called you to let you know that Helena will be part of the board. Not for you to give me unsolicited advice."

*Ouch.

Lorenzo thought that partnering on that project with the Di Sante was a bad idea; however, they ultimately decided to do it as another show of peace between the Rossetti and Di Sante families.

*That and both families had disputed that land for years, or at least that's what my mom told me once when she came to see me in London.

"Show her the office at the back, the one next to the meeting room, and make sure human resources gets her an assistant as soon as possible."

"That's how you save money, uncle," he murmurs.

I stand up and Lorenzo does the same.

"By the way, I wanted to make sure that Freya will also arrive this afternoon with my belongings."

My purebred mare had been a gift, and I had brought her with me from London. She was my baby, and I knew the Di Sante had stables, so I could have her with me, which was not negotiable.

"I told Gianluca, and he's already aware that Freya is yours."

"Perfect," I give him a passive smile. "I'll check out the office and then I'll leave."

He nods, and I leave his office with Lorenzo close on my heels.

"I hope we can work together, Lorenzo, "I say, trying to make him feel good about my presence.

"Well, that depends on how productive you are for the business," he says, opening the door to the office at the back.

"Of course," my tone is serious as I observe the spacious and well-lit place. It needs some paint and good decoration, I note.

"I'll give you the number of the person in charge of those details, and you can choose what you think is best," he replies in a nonchalant tone.

"Thanks," I murmur. "I guess I'll head out and wait for you to send me the number, I say, walking down the hallway when a door opens and a tall figure appears."

"Helena?"

"Antonio," I reply, feeling a smile form on my lips.

Antonio Morelli was the son of close friends. The man had always been an innate charmer who made me nervous. My silly fourteen-year-old self dreamed of being his wife.

I was so naive and full of dreams.

"I didn't know you worked here?"

"I'm the financial consultant for the hotels."

"That's fantastic."

*And surprising.

"I must go, I'll leave you in good hands, my cousin comments before walking away down the hallway, leaving me in Antonio's company."

"Are you going to grace us with your presence?"

I smile.

A genuine smile.

"Yeah, I toss my hair back, and he nods as he looks at my hand."

"I heard about the wedding."

"Well, it was bound to happen, you know how things are."

Antonio was about ten years older than me and knew the families' history. Well, there was no one in Florence who didn't know it.

"I'm heading out, but I'd love to grab a coffee with you sometime."

"I can invite you to my office once it's set up," I say, pointing behind me. "I'm heading down too."

"Then I'll come with you," he murmurs, quickly grabbing his phone, and we move to the elevator, and I press the button to call it.

When the doors open, we step inside, and they close after we select the lobby floor.

"How long have you been working here?"

"Two years." He replies, studying me with his eyes flecked with green.

"I suppose it's good for you to be back home again."

"It is," I murmur.

«I'm not back home; I'll be in a nest of vipers that hate me.»

We reach the lobby, and the doors open. He gestures for me to step out beside him, and I do.

Truly a gentleman in every sense of the word.

«Unlike the beast Salvatore.»

I stop that thought abruptly because, why should I care about him?

We step outside and pause on the sidewalk, where my father's driver waits patiently.

"So we're going to work together," he comments flirtatiously, making me laugh.

"I hope I'm not a burden to you."

"Not at all," he scoffs, "you've always been a smart girl." He winks, "I'll be happy to have you."

"What lovely words."

Salvatore's cold voice makes me turn around, and my smile vanishes.

"What are you doing here?"

"Watching my errant wife try to embarrass me in front of others."

"What?" My face is one of total confusion. "Really...?"

"Get in the car now."

He cuts off my words, I lift my chin and speak in a calm tone,

"I'm leaving with the driver who brought me."

"Get in the damn car, or I'll put you in by force."

"Hey, man, don't treat her like that."

Salvatore just raises an eyebrow and looks at Antonio as if he were scum.

"Who's going to stop me, you? I'd love to see you try."

His face doesn't show his anger, but I can see in his eyes that he's very upset.

"Antonio, I have to go, but it's been nice reconnecting with you," I say. He nods, glaring at Salvatore, who returns a cold smile.

I take the travel bag from my father's car and walk over with dignity to Salvatore's car. I get in, and he slams the door shut before walking around the car and climbing in.

"Who do you think you are?" I hiss as he climbs in.

"Don't tell me I interrupted your flirting."

"Flirting? Right, the thief thinks everyone steals."

He gives me a nasty look.

"I went to the suite, and you weren't there like I ordered."

"Go to hell, I'm not your circus clown waiting for your show."

He puts on sunglasses and starts the car.

I look at his outfit and see he's wearing one of his tailored suits.

"You were with your lover."

"It's none of your business."

Anger burns within me, and I clench my hands into fists.

"You're an i***t. Tell me if this is how it's going to be," I say seriously, "so I can do the same."

"If you want to die, go ahead," his icy tone and words leave me speechless.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"Try me, I won't be made to look like a fool, especially not by a damn brat who can't keep her legs closed."

I can't hold back and hit him in the side.

"Enough!" he shouts as I breathe heavily.

"You're a bastard, did you know that?"

"Tell me something I don't know."

I stay silent for the rest of the drive, and as we enter the Di Sante villa, it feels like I'm walking into my prison. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I want to run.

He stops abruptly, gets out, walks around the car, and opens my door.

"Get out."

"Screw you, Salvatore. I'm already sick of you, and we haven't even been married a full day. That's got to be a record."

He takes off his sunglasses and grabs my arm, his grip hurts me, but he doesn't stop when I scream for him to let go.

Aldo holds the main door open with a stoic expression as we stumble in.

"Let me go, you brute! That's no way to treat a lady."

"Then act like one," he growls through gritted teeth.

I look to one side of the lobby and see the Di Sante family watching me.

The smile on Martina and her mother's faces infuriates me more, while the satisfaction on Gianluca's face makes me want to kick him.

Salvatore drags me up the stairs, and I dig my nails into his hand, but he doesn't release me.

"Now you're a Di Sante, and you'll act like one: Shut up, watch, and smile," he commands.

"I'm a Rossetti, and I'm not your trophy wife," my eyes fill with tears as he squeezes harder.

"You'll learn to obey."

"I'm not a child! Let go of me, you're hurting me."

He opens the door to the room I used to change last night and pushes me inside. I rub my arm, which hurts like hell, and glare at him with contempt, fighting back tears.

"I told you, I'm not playing," he says. "You won't make a fool of me. You'll learn to obey, or this is just the beginning," he declares before closing the door, and I hear the lock click from the outside.

In shock, I run to the door and try to open it, but it won't budge.

"Salvatore!" I bang on the door. "Open the damn door," I sob, "you can't lock me in, I'm not your prisoner!"

No response.

I pound on the door until I slide down it, consumed by rage.