Chapter 92 -
“It is going to rain later,” Lucia said after a moment. Her voice was casual, conversational, like they were discussing the weather over tea instead of sitting in a room heavy with heartbreak. “I can feel it in my bones. Christian says that is ridiculous, that I cannot possibly predict weather based on joint pain, but I am right every time.”
Nia did not respond.
“The cook is making lamb for dinner,” Lucia continued, unbothered by Nia’s silence. “With that mint sauce you liked last time. Rosa specifically requested it. She thinks if she makes all your favorite foods, you will eventually come downstairs to eat them.”
Still nothing from Nia.
“Gabriel drew seventeen pictures today,” Lucia said. “All of them featuring Sir Hopsalot the frog. He has decided that the frog needs a family, so now he is planning to catch seventeen more frogs to keep the first one company. His nanny is having a breakdown.”
Nia felt the corner of her mouth twitch. Just slightly. Not quite a smile, but close enough that Lucia noticed.
“There,” Lucia said with satisfaction. “I knew you were still in there somewhere.”
“I am always in here,” Nia said quietly. “Where else would I be?”
“Lost,” Lucia said simply. “People get lost inside themselves sometimes. Especially after they have been hurt. They retreat so far inward that it becomes hard to find the way back out.”
Nia turned her head to look at Lucia properly. The other woman was studying her with an expression that was almost gentle, which was strange coming from someone who usually wore her armor as carefully as she wore her expensive clothes.
“You look like I did,” Lucia said. Her voice was softer now, less sharp around the edges. “After Christian and I got married… ”
“I did not marry anyone,” Nia pointed out.
“No,” Lucia agreed. “But you did fall for a DeSanto. Which is almost worse, because at least when you marry one, there is a ring and a ceremony and the illusion that you made a choice. Falling for one when you are their prisoner? That is just cruel.”
Nia’s chest tightened. “I do not want to talk about this.”
“I know,” Lucia said. “That is why I am not asking you to. I am just sitting here, talking about weather and frogs and dinner plans. You can listen or not listen. You can respond or not respond. It does not matter to me.”
But it did matter. Nia could see it in the way Lucia’s fingers drummed against the arm of the chair. In the way her eyes kept flicking to the door like she was expecting someone to come in and interrupt. In the way she held herself, all controlled grace and careful posture, like she was afraid that if she relaxed even slightly, something might crack.
“Why are you really here?” Nia asked.
Lucia was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Because I know what it is like to be rejected by a DeSanto man. And I know how it feels to realize that no matter how much you care about them, they will always choose their duty, their guilt, their fear over you.”
“Christian rejected you?” Nia asked, surprised despite herself.
“Not in the way you are thinking,” Lucia said. “Christian married me. He gave me his name and his protection and his child. But he never gave me his heart. That was already spoken for. Divided between his loyalty to the Don and his hatred for the life he was born into and his love for his brothers. There was no room left for me.”
“That sounds lonely,” Nia said quietly.
“It is,” Lucia agreed. “But you learn to live with it. You find other things to care about. Gabriel. The house. Your own survival. You build a life around the empty spaces where love should be.”
Nia looked down at her hands, at the way they were twisted together in her lap. “I do not want to build a life around empty spaces.”
“Then do not,” Lucia said. “Get up. Get dressed. Walk out of this room and out of this house and never look back. The Don gave Leo three months to get answers, and those three months are almost up. Soon you will be free to leave anyway. So leave now. Save yourself the trouble of waiting.”
“I cannot leave,” Nia said.
“Why not?” Lucia challenged. “What is stopping you? Matteo? He likes you. He would probably look the other way if you made a run for it. The gates? Gabriel showed me how to sneak through the gap in the east wall when he is trying to catch frogs. The security system? I know the codes. I could write them down for you right now.”
Nia’s throat tightened. “It is not that simple.”
“It never is,” Lucia said. “But that does not mean it is impossible.” She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her eyes locked on Nia’s. “You could leave. You could walk out of here and never see Leonardo DeSanto again. Never have to watch him pretend that kissing you meant nothing. Never have to sit at dinner tables and feel his eyes on you while he refuses to acknowledge what happened between you. You could be free.”
“Then why did you not leave?” Nia asked. “If it is so easy, if the codes are right there and the gaps in the wall are waiting, why are you still here?”
Lucia leaned back in her chair, a bitter smile playing at her lips. “Because I have Gabriel. And because leaving would mean admitting defeat. And because some stupid part of me still hopes that one day Christian will wake up and realize that I am here, that I have always been here, waiting for him to see me.”
“That sounds exhausting,” Nia said.
“It is,” Lucia agreed. “But it is also familiar. And sometimes familiar pain is easier to bear than the uncertainty of freedom.”