Chapter 13 -
Nia followed her out of the study, her mind trying to figure out what the woman meant by the rest of them. Although she had hinted at people entering the mansion and not leaving, Nia didn’t want to think Rosa was actually being serious. With Leo DeSanto’s threat replaying in her head, she was more than certain that the woman knew more than she let on.
Back at the room she was kept hostage in, Rosa urged her to take a bath and mentioned that someone will come get her for breakfast, with no single word said after. The woman was trying so hard not to show it, but in her mannerisms—the way she spoke, and moved, it played on Nia that she was keeping her distance. And she had just lost the one ally she could have in the mansion. She was standing in the middle of the room, staring at the door Rosa had shut behind her. This morning took a turn from worse to worse, but at least she got to meet Gaby, and help him in the little way she could.
That aside, her mind was far from settled, and her thoughts kept spiraling as she moved to the bathroom. Rosa had insisted she take a bath and come down for breakfast, and honestly, she was too tired and hungry to argue or refuse. So, she tried to focus on the task at hand, like the cool water against her skin that washed some of her worries away and relaxed her muscles. After she was thoroughly cleaned, Nia proceeded to the closet, if by a miracle she would find something there to wear after digging through well enough.
Before she could open the closet door for her ultimate search, Nia saw a too familiar yellow duffel bag sitting on the king sized bed. Her eyes couldn’t be playing tricks on her because the bag had the same patch as the one she owned at home, the brown handle slightly worn out than the other body parts. Gripping the towel tighter around her body, she scanned the room, looking for the person who must have deposited the item in her room, but there was no one. So she gingerly took careful steps toward the bed inspecting the bag before proceeding to open it. Therein, she found some of her clothes and a few of her essentials. Someone went to her apartment and packed her things, including her underwear. Embarrassment crept onto her features as she pictured one of DeSanto’s men rummaging through her lace panties and padded bras.
Not wanting to dwell on that thought, she picked a yellow floral knee length dress and some undies to go, then changed into them, waiting for whoever Rosa said was going to accompany her to breakfast. And not too long after, a knock came. Her heart skipped as the knock echoed through her room. She was almost certain that it wasn’t Rosa because the woman would have just walked in without a care, and it couldn’t be Leo because they had gone at it this morning and things didn’t end up nice. The suspense was killing her, so she decided to open the door and find out anyway.
A tall man, muscular but lean, was wearing a black suit in the doorway. He reminded her of those men with guns she had seen surrounding the property. Just like those men, his demeanor screamed authority, and his expression looked calm but it was also at attention. And his brown eyes held an edge of disinterest, like escorting her to breakfast was a demotion in rank.
“Miss Wallace,” he said, his voice smooth like butter. “I am Matteo. The boss has assigned me as your guard to keep you in check.”
A guard to keep her in check? What was she? A five year old?
Nia was about saying something like fuck off, but Mateo wasn’t here to chat because he spoke, pausing whatever words she was trying to say in her throat.
“I will escort you to the dining room. Follow me,” then he was moving, his posture rigid, and his steps in precision—it all reminded her of a soldier on duty.
She took a deep breath because she would need it facing the madhouse members again. Nia followed Matteo who walked ahead of her in silence, they navigated through the endless hallways of the mansion, until she found herself at the same doors of yesterday night.
Unlike yesterday night when she was having second thoughts, which Rosa helped her through, Matteo on the other hand only held the door open for her—at least he was being gentlemanly when he didn’t need to.
“Thank you,” she muttered, eyeing him suspiciously while he nodded stiffly.
Strolling inside, she wasn’t even near the massive table that stretched across halfway of the room yet, when their eyes pierced hers, all except huge hazel ones.
Gaby was the only one smiling at her—well a genuine smile because Micheal also had one of his, but yesterday made her uneasy with him.
“Ah! There she is,” the youngest DeSanto said, his tone casual but with an edge common to his bloodline. He gestured to the chair to his right, “Here, sit.”
Nia hesitated, searching for a more suitable spot far from the maniac family, or even Leo who was at the head of the table. But she couldn’t get another DeSanto on her bad side, so she moved to the chair and sank into it. Nia couldn’t focus on anything aside from the smell of freshly cooked food filling the air as the chefs lined dish after dish on the table. No matter how she tried to hide it, to her dismay, she was hungry, more than usual, and that was okay—at least nothing would make her lose her appetite again.
“I trust you slept well,” Micheal leaned forward, whispering into her ears. She turned her neck to glance at him, their faces mere inches away from each other. She noticed how relaxed he appeared at their close proximity, so she craned her head to another direction, ignoring his question.
And that direction happened to be on Lucia, whose pretty face looked weary as she watched Gaby, her son beside her. The commotion of this morning cemented her assumption of the second DeSanto brother and his wife—they were miserable together. But for some reasons beyond her, Christian wasn’t intent on letting her go, nor would her father.
Truthfully, Nia didn’t care about the two adults, only the innocent child between them. Growing up in the shelter she had spent some of her early years in, she had been tasked to care for the younger ones, and it wasn’t much of a responsibility since she enjoyed doing it. They were all orphans, having no one else, so they made a family of themselves, calling one another siblings. And even though she never got adopted and moved from one foster home to another, Nia never let that compassion die.
Seeing Gaby in the midst of the chaos of his family, she didn’t like that. Her eyes remained on the boy, as he sat not so patiently watching his mother arrange his meal—a piece of pancakes, bacon and some eggs. Despite his complicated family, he was the only thing that sparkled with joy, and she only hoped he wouldn’t lose that spark. Her focus shifted momentarily as Christian slammed a glass of orange juice on the table, startling his son beside him which almost made Nia interfere.
“Let his nanny do the work,” Christian snapped, his voice cutting through the room. As her husband spoke, Lucia didn’t flinch for once, and Nia realized it was a habit.
The red haired woman, never the one to back down, retorted coldly. “Gaby’s mother is still well and alive enough to take care of him. Whilst the same cannot be said about his papa.”
Burn!
The table fell silent, the air thick with not only the aroma of food but heated tension. Christian’s hold on his glass was tightening by the second. Micheal, who appeared to be something of a diffuser, only leaned back, not wanting to get involved in the heated exchange between the two. And when it seemed as if the glass would shatter in Christian’s hands, Leo finally spoke up.
“Enough, both of you!” His voice sliced through the tense atmosphere like a knife, commanding the room. All eyes turned to him, including his nephew who was ecstatic about eating his pancakes.