Chapter 17 -
Nia felt her eyes sting. "I don't know if I'm the best teacher," she said with a shaky laugh. "I'm kind of winging it here."
"Maybe that's exactly what I need," Lucia said, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile.
They talked for hours after that. Lucia told Nia about her life before the marriage, about the dreams she had once had, the places she had wanted to see. She talked about Gabriel, about how much she loved him and how terrified she was of failing him. And Nia listened, really listened, because she understood. She understood what it felt like to be powerless, to be at the mercy of forces beyond your control.
In turn, Nia told Lucia about Alex, about the betrayal and the heartbreak, about how she had ended up in this nightmare. She told her about Isa, her best friend who must be losing her mind with worry. And Lucia nodded, her expression sympathetic, her hand occasionally reaching out to squeeze Nia's.
By the time Lucia finally stood to leave, the moon was high in the sky, casting silver light through the windows.
"Thank you," Lucia said softly, her hand on the door handle. "For listening. For understanding."
"Thank you," Nia said, her voice thick with emotion. "For reminding me I'm not alone."
Lucia smiled, and for a moment, she looked lighter, freer. "Goodnight, Nia."
"Goodnight, Lucia."
The door closed with a soft click, and Nia was alone again. But the room did not feel as empty as it had before. She lay back on the bed, staring up at the chandelier, and let herself feel something she had not felt in days.
Hope.
But outside her door, in the shadowed hallway, Matteo stood rigid, his hand resting on the weapon at his side. He had heard everything. And as he pulled out his phone to send a message, his expression was grim.
The boss needed to know about this.
The next morning arrived with deceptive calm. Sunlight poured through the tall windows of Nia's room, painting golden stripes across the polished floor. She had barely finished braiding her hair when a soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in," she called, expecting Rosa or perhaps Matteo with another escort duty.
The door swung open to reveal Lucia, dressed in a flowing emerald dress that made her red hair look like it was on fire. She carried herself with that same quiet authority Nia had witnessed the night before, but this morning there was something lighter about her. Almost playful.
"Good morning," Lucia said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "Did you sleep well?"
Nia shrugged, tugging at the end of her braid. "As well as anyone can sleep knowing they are a prisoner in a mansion full of armed men."
Lucia's lips twitched into a smile. "Fair point." She moved closer, her amber eyes sparkling with something that looked suspiciously like mischief. "I was thinking. If you are going to be stuck here for who knows how long, you should at least know your way around. This place is huge. You could get lost for days."
Nia raised an eyebrow. "Are you offering to give me a tour?"
"Exactly that." Lucia clasped her hands together, looking almost excited. "What do you say? Better than staring at these four walls all day."
Nia glanced toward the door, lowering her voice. "What about Matteo? He is practically glued to that spot outside. I am pretty sure Leo gave him strict orders to keep me locked in here."
Lucia waved a dismissive hand. "Matteo is loyal, but he is also predictable. Give me five minutes, and I will have him distracted."
"How?"
"You will see." Lucia winked and slipped back out of the room before Nia could ask more questions.
Nia stood there for a moment, torn between curiosity and caution. This could be a trap. Or it could be exactly what it seemed like: a chance to learn the layout of this labyrinth, to understand the places she might need to know if she ever got the chance to run.
She pressed her ear against the door, listening. Lucia's voice drifted through, sweet as honey.
"Matteo, would you be a dear and help me? One of the maids said there is a problem with the lock on Gabriel's bedroom door. I would ask Christian, but he is in one of his moods again. You know how he gets."
There was a pause, then Matteo's deep, reluctant voice. "Ma'am, I am supposed to stay here and watch Miss Wallace."
"It will only take a minute," Lucia insisted. "She is not going anywhere. The door is locked from the outside, is it not?"
Another pause. Nia held her breath.
"Fine," Matteo finally said. "But I will be quick."
Footsteps retreated down the hallway. A moment later, the door cracked open and Lucia poked her head inside, grinning like a child who had just stolen cookies from the kitchen.
"See? Predictable."
Nia could not help but laugh. "You are devious."
'And she asks me to teach her, I need lessons from her' Nia laughed to herself
"Survival skill." Lucia beckoned her forward. "Come on, we do not have much time."
Nia slipped out into the hallway, her heart thumping with a strange mix of fear and excitement. The corridor stretched in both directions, lined with closed doors and expensive artwork that probably cost more than Nia's entire apartment building.
"Stay close," Lucia whispered, leading the way with the kind of confidence that came from years of navigating these halls. "And try to look like you are supposed to be here."
They moved quickly but not frantically, passing through the mansion like ghosts. Nia tried to memorize every turn, every staircase, every doorway. The place was even bigger than she had thought. Endless rooms branching off endless hallways, each one more lavish than the last.
Lucia pointed as they walked, keeping her voice low. "That is the main sitting room. No one uses it except when the Don visits. Down that hallway are the guest quarters. Mostly empty unless we have business associates staying over, which, thank God, does not happen often."
"Why not?"
"Because business associates in this world usually means people you would rather not have sleeping under your roof." Lucia shot her a wry look. "Trust me."
They descended a wide staircase, and the smell of fresh bread and roasted garlic hit Nia like a warm wave. Her stomach growled loudly, and Lucia glanced back with an amused smile.
"Hungry?"
"Starving," Nia admitted. "I did not eat much at breakfast."
"Let me guess. Leo was being his usual charming self?"
"Something like that."
They reached the bottom of the stairs and turned down another corridor. The sounds of clattering pots and rapid Spanish filled the air. Lucia pushed open a swinging door, and they stepped into the largest kitchen Nia had ever seen.
It was pure chaos. Chefs in white uniforms moved like dancers, chopping, stirring, plating. Steam rose from massive pots, and the scent of spices and fresh herbs made Nia's mouth water. In the center of it all stood Rosa, her salt and pepper hair tied back in a no nonsense bun, her sharp eyes tracking every movement like a general surveying a battlefield.
"Rosa runs this kitchen like a military operation," Lucia whispered. "Do not let her sweet face fool you. She has made grown men cry."
As if sensing she was being talked about, Rosa turned and spotted them. Her expression softened just a fraction when she saw Lucia, but her gaze lingered on Nia with something unreadable.
"Mrs Lucia," Rosa said, wiping her hands on her apron. "What brings you down here?"
"Just showing Nia around," Lucia said breezily. "Thought she should know where the good food comes from."
Rosa's eyes flicked to Nia, and for a moment, Nia thought she saw pity there. Or maybe it was just her imagination.
"Well, do not get in the way," Rosa said gruffly, but there was no real bite to it. "We have lunch to prepare, and the Don is expecting perfection."
"Always is," Lucia muttered under her breath, steering Nia back out of the kitchen.
They moved through more hallways, past more rooms. Lucia pointed out the formal dining hall they had eaten in, a smaller breakfast nook that was rarely used, a sitting room filled with leather furniture and the faint smell of cigars.
"That is where the men have their meetings," Lucia said with distaste. "I am not allowed in there. None of the women are."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously." Lucia's jaw tightened. "Welcome to the wonderful world of the Cimmera, where tradition is code for keeping women in their place."
They climbed another staircase, this one narrower and less grand. The décor shifted slightly, becoming more functional and less showy. Lucia slowed her pace, glancing around as if checking for eavesdroppers.
"This is the west wing," she said quietly. "The brothers' private quarters are up here. Micheal's room is down that way." She gestured vaguely to the left. "Christian's is further down. And Leo's..." She paused, her expression darkening. "Leo's entire wing is off limits to everyone. Even Rosa does not go in there unless he specifically asks."
Nia felt a chill run down her spine. "Why?"