Chapter 7 Between Duty and Dread
••Luciana••
“Luci, are you alright?” Matteo asked as soon as he returned. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”
“Roman,” I replied.
“Roman?”
“He was here.”
“He helped me out with some strange guys who were trying to cause trouble. He didn’t even stick around for a thank you; he just left.”
“Don’t worry, he probably just took a quick look at you and decided to handle things himself.”
“Can we please just leave now?” I downed the last bit of the margarita in my glass.
As we made our way out, I caught Matteo still scanning the club, checking if Roman was still there. He couldn’t have been watching me, so I was curious about why he had just walked away like that. My thoughts kept circling around the moment, replaying the way he appeared and vanished as if the shadows themselves carried him out.
Once we got home, I saw Father sitting in the living room, giving off the impression that he’d been waiting for us. Matteo greeted him with a bow, while I stood at the entrance, my anger evident in my gaze. Matteo gestured for me to show some respect, so I approached him, gave a slight bow, and turned to head toward my room.
His voice stopped me.
“Luciana,” he declared firmly, “no matter what happens, the engagement will go ahead. There's no going back now.”
“Even after everything that’s happened?” I shot back, my voice steady yet edged with intensity. “You would marry me to the brother of the man who just passed away?”
His expression hardened. “This isn’t about love. It’s about survival. Do you grasp that?”
“I see that you've prioritized power over your own daughter,” I replied, locking my gaze onto him.
For a fleeting moment, a flicker of something—perhaps guilt—crossed his face, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. It almost made me wonder if he ever regretted the world he dragged me into, or if wielding power mattered more than his children.
"This discussion is finished."
He rose abruptly and strode away, the echo of his footsteps gradually diminishing down the corridor.
I remained there in the stillness, my heart steady, the warmth of the blade still pressing against my skin.
Matteo came over, his hands enveloping mine as he motioned for me to step inside.
He handed me a glass of my favorite wine. “You should enjoy this,” he said, settling down beside me on the bed. The room felt softer with him in it, less suffocating, as though he brought a piece of normalcy wherever he went.
He turned on the TV to the show we used to binge-watch as teenagers, and we both fell into a comfortable silence.
“I remember those times when we would watch this every single time during those years,” I broke the silence, nostalgia washing over me.
"Absolutely, we would mimic the lines perfectly since we knew it by heart," he laughed, his eyes sparkling with memories.
"But now, time slips away from us, with responsibilities demanding our attention," I replied, a hint of melancholy in my voice.
As our favorite scene unfolded, the villain had captured the young girl.
"... and now I'm going to eliminate you, so everyone can see just how great I am..." We both belted out the lines in unison, as if we had rehearsed them countless times before.
Matteo met my gaze, and we erupted into laughter.
"This is just as entertaining as it ever was," he remarked, still chuckling.
"Absolutely!" I agreed, my laughter still echoing in the air.
As I glanced around my room, I inhaled the calming scent of lavender—my favorite fragrance. I reached for a photo resting on the bedside table, featuring Antonio, Matteo, and me.
"This picture always makes me laugh," he said, pointing at the ice cream smeared on Antonio's nose.
"That little rascal was determined to have two ice creams at once because he couldn't decide on just one flavor!"
“Poor Antonio,” he remarked casually.
“So I’m really going to leave everything behind to live with a man I hate—my fiancé's younger brother,” I muttered softly.
“Andrian is no longer your fiancé; he’s gone,” Matteo replied.
“But Roman? No… you know that can’t be right.” My voice dropped as I spoke. “Did Father really need to go through with this? Surely it could have been someone else, anyone but the Orlovs.”
Matteo remained silent, simply resting my head on his shoulder and gently running his fingers through my hair. Tears began to fill my eyes, and this time, instead of resisting, I allowed them to flow. It was the first time I had let my feelings surface since the accident. With my best friend, I felt safe enough to cry. Outside, I had to maintain the façade of a fierce Sicilian princess. It felt so unfair!
\----
When I finally woke up, I found myself cozily tucked in bed, and Matteo was nowhere in sight. He must have left while I was asleep. Lying there, I reflected on the whirlwind of events that had recently unfolded. Just then, the door creaked open.
“Luci, are you awake?” It was Antonio.
“Why are you stopping by so early?” I asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“Early, you say? Allow me to point out that it’s nearly noon, and you’ve missed breakfast. If Father hadn’t been away, he probably would have knocked on your door himself,” he replied, rolling his eyes at me.
“What?” I looked at the clock on the table and saw it was already past 10 a.m. “I must have slept in! So, what’s up?”
“You’ve got a letter,” he said, extending it towards me. “I’ve got other matters to attend to, sister.” With that, he turned and left the room.
I turned my attention to the letter. It was adorned with gold embossing and sealed with the Orlov crest. Curiosity piqued, I opened it to see what it contained.
A strange heaviness settled in my stomach.