Mafia, Take Me Home

Chapter 6–Il Diavola

[Amelia]

The dismissive way Vanessa disregarded me left me stunned. How can someone sound so genuinely concerned and nasty all at once?

“Of…of course not,” I stumble over my words as the maids begin to scoop my belongings off of the floor. “It’s just that, Lucas said I…”

“Bene,” she strides into my room without looking back, slamming the door in my face.

Exhaling, I clench my hands into fists, fighting the urge to knock down the door and pull her hair. I don’t even want to be here doing any of this, why should it matter if she takes my room?

And yet, as I stand there with my face hot and my pride bruised I realize that I do care. I care very much. Maybe it was because I didn’t have a lot growing up. Maybe it’s because growing up in the orphanage I needed to be scrappy in order to survive. Whatever the reason is, I have to temper the boiling rage steaming within my chest.

I do not have the luxury of being mad. This woman, this “female devil” is part of Lucas’ family, a family I need to impress because, like it or not, I’m stuck with them in this house until I can find a way to get my old life back.

Rolling my shoulders, I pick up my dress for the evening, rumpled after having been tossed out into the hall, and drape it over my arm. “Is there another room I can take,” I ask Lucia quietly, gritting my teeth as I try my best to get my anger under control.

She nods slowly, “Of course, Padrona, this way.”

Following Lucia’s lead, she guides me to a cozy room one floor below my old room. It isn’t as sunny, but it’s just as big and while it isn’t next to the kitchen as Vanessa suggested for me, it is closer to the library, which suits me fine. Although I haven’t always been the best at school, I’ve always found reading an escape.

Settling in, I hang the dress in the closet and instruct Lucia to bring my lunch to the rose garden. I need time to cool my head and clear my thoughts and the rose garden is one of the few places in the villa that gives me peace. I can see it from my bedroom, and sometimes Lucas and I will eat dinner out here when the weather is nice.

Taking a long sip of tea, I lean back in the plush lawn chairs and close my eyes, letting the sun kiss my face. It’s moments like these where I can forget for a moment that I’m trapped in a large villa near the beach. “Just another day in paradise,” I smile, letting the salt air convince me that I’m on vacation instead of in the center of a mob house.

Taking several deep breaths, I let my body relax, the tension easing from my body as I took a large bite of tuna sandwich. “I’m sure she’s only here for the party,” I try to convince myself. “After tonight she’ll go back to whatever hellhole she crawled out of and I’ll…”

The sound of a window squeaking open above my head is followed by a wet splash of something cold. Opening my eyes, I look up to see Vanessa smiling down, the vase of fresh cut flowers that always rests by my bedside upturned in her hand, its contents dripping from the fine, cut crystal.

“Perdona mi!” She apologizes as she lets the vase continue to drip. “I didn’t see you there. I was just taking out the trash. I thought you were the compost.”

Blinking up at her in outrage, I stand. “Those roses were not garbage. Lucas cut them for me last night,” I shout back, more than a little sad to see his sweet gesture on the ground. Lucas has been bringing me roses from this garden every night as an apology for lying. “They were fresh.”

“Really?” she raises an eyebrow in mock surprise as she covers her mouth with a perfectly manicured hand, “They were wilted. I thought they were dead. So sorry.”

Smirking, she shuts the window leaving me blinking up at where her face was a moment ago.

“What a b***h,” I grumble under my breath. She isn’t the first bully I’ve ever faced and she won’t be the last. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” I sneer up at the empty window.

Wiping my face with the back of my hand I pick up the remains of my tuna sandwich and fight the urge to cry. Such a waste. I know I have plenty of food now, but seeing my lunch destroyed ties my stomach into knots of worry. Leaving it for the maids to clean, I drag myself back to my new room to take a warm shower.

Thankfully Lucia has been busy while I tried to eat my lunch, and all of my clothes are hanging where they should be. Smiling, I find a cozy pair of sweats and head to my private bathroom. Lucia was also kind enough to replace all of my favorite soaps and lotions.

“Thank God for Lucia,” I grin as I step into the shower and turn on the water sighing as the warm water washes over me. At least here I can be alone and…

Suddenly the water goes from comfortably warm to cold. No, not just cold, frigid as if ice were dumped on me from above, freezing me in place. Screaming, I jump, falling into the shower door with a thud. My knee hits the glass and as I hope out of the shower, I see the beginnings of a bruise start to form.

Shivering with more than just cold, I reach for a towel but my hands come back empty. Looking over at the counter, I see a small stack of hand towels and nothing else. While those will do plenty fine to dry me off, it will take longer and leave me naked as I go in search of my clothing.

“Well that’s just mean,” I grumble, realizing what must have happened. Vanessa must have known I’d want to take a shower after she dumped that water on my head. She must have had the staff help prepare this little surprise for me. I know that most of them don’t like me, they’ve made no effort to hide the fact, and now that they have a leader, they are gladly following her instructions.

I almost expected my sweats to be gone as well when I made it back into the bedroom, but thankfully she hadn’t been that thorough with her plot to make me uncomfortable. Sighing in relief, I step into the warm, dry sweat pants. And head out to the hall in search of Lucia. With Vanessa up to these childish tricks, we need to come up with a strategy to get me to the party in one piece.

“Have you seen Lucia?” I asked the first person I passed. Her eyes opened wide as she scanned my face.

“No, Padrona,” she shakes her head, unable to tear her eyes away from my forehead.

“Is something wrong?”

She doesn’t answer. Curtseying, she rushes away. I turn towards another maid who openly gasps. Frowning, I rush swiftly over to the hall mirror to see what all the fuss is about.

When I see my reflection I almost start crying. Someone must have switched out my shampoo because my face, my hair, and my hands are all bright purple.

“Oh, that’s such a good color on you,” Vanessa laughs as she walks behind me, taking a quick picture as I turn to gasp. “So avant-garde! It’ll look perfect with your gown.”

Frozen in place, I watch il diavola retreat.

Why would she mention my gown?

No.

Racing to my room, I pull the sealed garment bag out of the closet. It feels far heavier than it should and as I place it flat on my bed, I notice purple oozing from the bottom of the zippered seam.

Opening it carefully I gasp. Large swatches of purple paint have been thrown on the dress with a heavy hand and across the bodice a message is scrawled in a long, flowing hand.

“Vattene Putana” it reads. Running it through the translator on my phone, my blood turning cold as ice.

“Leave, whore.”