Chapter 33: THIRTY THREE

CELESTIA

My emotions were haywire as I made my way back to the room like an unwanted soul. I felt punished for a reason. It seemed like someone drove me to the highest of the cliff only to push me off it, and like an idiot, I believed him so.

On my way back, came Raffaele's floor.

I didn't know what I thought as I mindlessly loitered towards his room and stood frozen for a second. Somehow luck was on my side because, in his frenzied quest of me, he had previously left the door open. The servants or staffs of the household were too timid to wander into his room. Therefore, nobody bothered about the unsecured status.

Slowly and unsurely, I pushed at the door, and the decorated perfection came into view. It wasn't the first time I had been into the room, but it was undoubtedly the first-ever instance where I took notice of the decor. From the curtains to the paintings, the luxurious and finery of his possessions to the immaculate order of the things—it was sheer perfection.

But everything seemed to be a lie. A representation of his fakery. An epitome of falseness. Just like his lies.

He lit a fire under my skin only to drown me in the coldness of his fury and then watch me writhe and struggle for his mercy.

And it was not only Raffaele alone. My mother was equally heartless.

There was so much anger bottled up within me, I didn't know it would come forth in the form of a destroyer.

Absently, I picked up the pretty vase lying in front of the mosaic framed mirror in his room and smashed it with every ounce of force and hatred reeling inside of me. And the moment those icy shards rained around me, the irreplaceable crack centred on the mirror and distorted my already-broken image, I knew I have already gone far.

And that's the thing about madness. The consequences were too damned to care.

In the next few minutes, I reduced his ever-perfect room to a wrecked space as I unleashed a fury oblivious to me till date. I upended the cushions and covers on the couch, broke every possible glass item, shredded his curtains and beautiful silks into ribbons and ravaged his king-size bed.

To me, the room represented Raffaele. Destroying it meant taking out on him somehow. However, it might have been a little naive but wholly practical. When I was done, a sense of satisfaction prevailed like a warm blanket.

Grabbing the sticky notepad nestled in his bedside drawers, I wrote the words I wished I had a little courage to yell at his face. But I was glad that my anger gave me the courage to lay better damage to his pretty little possessions.

Once the rage in me abated somewhat, I glanced around the room for the final time.

And I smiled.

I smiled as wickedly as he dragged me like an animal, without a fault of mine, and subjected me to cruelty I didn't deserve.

By the time I returned to the room earlier assigned to me, the clock read two am. The body was starting to give in, and I felt like a bundle of tired muscles and flailing bones. As a result, when I fell against the mattress, sleep engulfed me within a minute and erased every thought of the consequences I'd have to face come the next morning.

It was a dreamless sleep, but surely a wholesome one. And I must have slept soundly as well because when the faint knocking floated into my conscience, it was way past the crack of dawn. The sunlight has already forced its way into the room, and since I didn't bother to shut the curtains last night, the room was brightly lit.

And the incessant knock grew louder.

"Coming, "I slurred as I swiped the covers away and slung my legs to the edge of the bed.

The muscles still ached, but the throb was gone.

Dragging myself off the bed, as I slowly opened the door and found the least expected person greeting me in the morning.

"Lila." I blinked at her until I saw straight. "What are you doing here?"

"Why didn't you come down for breakfast?" There was a mix of concern and shock in her voice. Lila was dressed in her usual staff attire, which meant that she started working again.

"I…I just woke up. Come in."

"I can see that," she said as she walked past me and stood in the centre of the room. "Are you feeling unwell?" It was the first of her many inquiries.

"I am fine, Lila, I swear. There's nothing wrong with me or anything else," I assured and lowered myself on the edge of the bed with my hands clasped between my knees.

"Oh! Thank god then," she sighed and took place beside mine.

"How are you doing?" I asked, whipping my head around. "Couldn't you have taken a break today?"

Lila gave me a slow, meaningful nod. "I thought I would, but the head of staff sent for me. Apparently, most of the maids didn't want the serving duty."

"Why is that?" I queried.

"The word around is that sir is in a bad mood. A maid on his floor stumbled into across room to change the sheets and almost had a heart attack. It was completely wrecked. He must have been terribly mad last night to smash things like that."

I bit the inside of my cheeks and contemplated whether I should tell Lila or not. Given the fact that Raffaele didn't—yet—react, it was a little strange.

Before falling asleep last night, I contemplated that he would probably storm inside my room and take out his well-meaning anger on me, but he kind of put me at a stalemate situation.

Was he aware of the condition of the room at all?

"Celestia!" A finger snapped before my face, interrupting my disconcerted state of mind.

"Yes, yes…I am listening," I said distractedly. "Umm…has Raffaele seen his room? I mean, where did he sleep last night?"

"Someone said he stayed in his brother's room."

Did my entire effort go down the drain?

"And did he see his room, I mean, the condition of his room?" I restlessly inquired.

Lila gave me a muddled expression. "What are you saying? He is the one who wrecked the room!"

"Of course, he didn't!" I almost growled out in frustration. Goddamnit! "He loves his luxurious sanctuary way too much to destroy it."

She stared back at me, puzzled, with a frown settled between her creased brows. But when I fixed her with a significant look, it finally dawned upon her. Lila gasped in shock, too horrified to speak and it felt like her pretty eyeballs would just pop out.

"You…you…Oh, my God!"

"Breathe, Lila, please," I tried to soothe but to no avail.

"Do you have any idea what…Oh, my God! What have you done!" she didn't frame it as a question as her hands flew to her mouth.

"I know what I have done," I said calmly. "You just don't know what he has done."

"That's beside the point. You wrecked his entire room?" she asked slowly, accentuating every word as if she still couldn't come to terms with the truth.

And I tried not to smile. If Lila was this shell-shocked, what would Raffaele do? I mean, wouldn't he screech like a banshee? And precisely, I wanted him to feel the sting. I was already deep down the rabbit hole to care about the repercussions.

"Yes, I did."

"Celestia, I am not trying to be your enemy here, but he is not going to let this one go," she said nervously and with genuine concern. "What happened last night? After you left my room?"

For the next ten minutes, I narrated the incidents of last night and spared no detail. From spending time with Amadeo to the emergence of Raffaele and my mother's call, I recounted every fold of the story for her to know. The good thing about Lila was, she never judged. And she would never sugar-coat the truth either.

"I don't know, Lila, but I was so mad at him and my mother that I took it out on his room. And truth be told, I am not sorry. Raffaele deserves it."

She listened to me intently and exhaled a deep breath. "Maybe he deserves it, but that's not before he takes his anger out on you." She closed her eyes and whispered, "Even the thought of it gives me prickles."

I touched her wrist and squeezed. "I will be fine."

I was certain that Raffaele wouldn't kill me because that would defeat the entire deal he made with my mother. But I knew that he would most definitely make me pay.

And as if the devil was conjured by the thought of him, there was a tap on the door. Lila and I glanced at each other before staring that way.

"No, you sit," she said when I was about to get it. If it was Raffaele, it wouldn't matter who opens the door.

But it wasn't him. It was Cesar, the devil's personal messenger.

From the threshold, he looked over Lila's shoulder and addressed me directly. "Miss, you need to come with me." His voice was unusually hard and clipped.

"Where are you taking her?" Lila asked.

Cesar scowled at her. "If you can't stay in your room, Lila, go back to the kitchen."

She was about to protest, but I cut her off. "It's ok, Lila." My eyes flew to Cesar. "I will go with you, but before that, I need some time to get fresh."

"I am sorry, Miss. But you have to come—"

"I am not going anywhere until I am ready," I said with finality. "If your boss has any other demands, tell him he knows where to find me."

What do you think will happen next? I am excited to know your thoughts.