The Devil's Collateral

Chapter 05 : Walls

Until noon.

Not because she was scared. Not because she was embarrassed. And absolutely not because she could still feel something on her lips from that morning.

She just needed time.

That was all.

She lay on her back staring at the ceiling, hands folded over her stomach, letting her thoughts spin anger, frustration, and something else she refused to name. Her hand drifted to her neck on its own, fingers brushing the mark that still felt warm.

She pulled it away.

Enough.

A knock at the door.

"Miss Odette?" Marcello's voice, from the other side.

"What." Not a question.

"It's noon. Would you like lunch in your room or downstairs?"

"Room."

A brief silence from the other side of the door. Then "Very well. Oh, and Mr. Dante has also chosen to eat in his room today."

Odette frowned at the ceiling.

"I didn't ask."

"I know." Marcello's voice was perfectly flat from the other side. Too flat. "I was simply reporting today's weather. Which happens to be... cold."

"Go away, Marcello."

"Already gone, Miss."

His footsteps faded down the hall. Odette stared at the ceiling.

Weather, she thought. He said weather.

A knock came again not long after.

"Miss Odette, your food is ready."

Odette got up and opened the door —

Marcello was already standing in the doorway, tray in hand. Soup, bread, orange juice.

She took the tray straight from him without a word.

Marcello released it without comment. Stayed in the doorway, hands behind his back, expression perfectly neutral.

"Marcello."

"Yes, Miss?"

Odette looked down at her soup. "Is Dante always... like that?"

"Like what, Miss?" Marcello's tone was entirely innocent. Too innocent.

"You know what I mean."

"I'm not sure I do, Miss. Mr. Dante is a complex individual. You could be referring to the way he speaks, the way he stands, the way he drinks his coffee, or the way he "

"Marcello."

"Yes?"

"Stop talking."

"Of course, Miss." He gave a polite nod. "Enjoy your lunch."

"Marcello."

He paused in the doorway, one hand already on the handle. "Yes?"

"You're insufferable."

The corner of Marcello's mouth twitched barely before settling back into place.

"Thank you, Miss. That's the finest review I've received all week."

Odette threw a small pillow at him.

Marcello stepped aside calmly as though he'd seen it coming and pulled the door shut from the outside.

Odette stared at the closed door.

Then, without meaning to, the corner of her mouth curved up.

She wiped it off immediately.

***

By late afternoon, Odette finally came out.

She made her footsteps deliberate not tiptoeing, not careful. She refused to look like someone hiding in another person's house.

This isn't my home, she reminded herself. And I'm not going to pretend it is.

She found a small library at the end of the second-floor corridor.

Tall wooden shelves packed with books in a dozen different languages. The door was half open.

Odette walked in and pulled a book at random not caring what it was then settled into the chair by the window.

Five quiet minutes passed.

Then footsteps in the corridor.

Odette straightened instinctively eyes dropping to the book in her hands.

"You're reading?"

Dante.

"This is a library." Odette didn't look up.

"People tend to read in libraries."

"The book is upside down."

Odette looked at it. It was.

She closed it calmly as if that had been intentional set it aside, and still didn't look up at him.

Dante stepped inside. Stopped in front of the bookshelf, his back to her.

"You're free to go anywhere in the mansion," he said. "Except the basement and my study."

"Fine."

"The wedding is next month. You'll need a dress. Marcello will take you tomorrow."

"I don't need—"

"Odette."

Her name came out differently. Not a command. Not a threat. Just her name two syllables that sounded too human coming from someone like him.

Odette pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek. Her eyes stayed fixed somewhere neutral his shoulder, the wall behind him, anywhere but his face.

"I'm not asking you to be happy," Dante said quietly. "I'm only asking you not to make things harder than they need to be."

"What's the difference?" Odette asked, just as quietly.

Dante didn't answer.

He turned and left leaving Odette alone with an upside-down book and air that somehow felt lighter once he was gone.

Odette exhaled slowly.

A breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding since the moment he walked in.

Out in the corridor, Marcello passed Dante coming the other way.

They held eye contact for exactly one second. Dante said nothing and walked straight past him.

Marcello waited until his footsteps disappeared. Then he leaned toward the library doorway toward Odette, still sitting alone, still not looking up, still holding the upside-down book.

"Remarkable," he murmured.

"The two most stubborn people in Italy, under the same roof."

This was going to be a very long road.

Inside the library, Odette tossed the book onto the sofa.

Why did he say just me.

The thought came back uninvited.

Odette pulled her knees to her chest and stared out the window. Outside, the mansion's garden was too perfect. Too controlled.

Just like its owner.

But today she noticed one flower in the corner of the garden, growing slightly crooked. Not neat. Not in line with the rest.

Odette stared at it for a long moment.

Interesting.

***

After leaving the library, he returned to his study and settled into the chair in front of his laptop.

He pulled open the desk drawer and took out a cigarette, lighting it without any particular hurry. The smoke curled up slowly he drew from it and exhaled like it was the only reliable way to clear his head.

A knock at the door.

"Come in."

Marcello opened the door, closed it behind him, and crossed the room toward Dante, who was still working through his cigarette.

"I've received a report from the Milan casino, sir. A man has won big several times and the staff are struggling to keep up. They suspect cheating."

Dante gave a slow nod, exhaling smoke.

"If we let it go he'll only get bolder. Pull his records, find the proof, then come back to me."

"Understood, sir." Marcello nodded. "Also the financials improved today, following the... incident yesterday."

"Still not enough." Dante stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray.

"He's already embezzled from us. Get it resolved as quickly as possible."

"Yes, sir. I'll take my leave."

Marcello stepped out and pulled the door shut.

The room settled back into silence.

Dante looked at his desk at the photograph sitting there. A woman. The tension that lived permanently in his expression softened, almost imperceptibly. Just barely.

The corner of his mouth moved up.