Chapter 12 The Devil Is In Our House
SANCIA
I yawned, sitting up on my bed from my lying position; I blinked a few times as I tried to get my bear. It was late in the afternoon, and despite the air conditioning, I felt hot.
Las Vegas summer heat is no joke. I've fallen asleep after long hours of pointlessly crying over my new predicament.
While I love Antonio and have no problem getting married to him, I had hoped to at least get my degree before settling into married life. I know my Antonio would support me if that were what I wanted to do; the problem was getting Papa to agree.
I had been hoping I could talk to Papa about that and into allowing me to move to the dom instead of coming and going daily with the soldiers he'd tasked with protecting me, breathing down my neck.
Papa had shattered that hope; in three months, I would be getting married. It was devastating to know I won't be going back to college.
By trying to help Isabella, I had stuck my foot in my mouth. I've ruined everything; there's never going to be a chance of me staying in the dorms, living a carefree life where, for the first time, I didn't have to answer to anyone, going to lectures, making friends, and going to parties.
Now that's all gone down the drain. To be honest, though, I'd always doubt Papa would have allowed me that freedom, but at least I would have given it a shot, tried my luck. Now I know luck was never on my side.
Though I wish I could just stay up in my room forever, I know Papa would take it personally if I didn't show up for the engagement. He would think I'm being disrespectful; besides, I can't just let Isabella go through this alone.
I looked at the time on my phone and gasped as it was 3:20 pm. Isabella’s engagement was at four. Papa had said there wouldn't be an official engagement ceremony, just an intimate gathering with Lorenzo and his family, trusted men, and our family.
I stood up and gathered my hair, twisting the thick mass into a messy bun, and then I jumped into the bathroom. I was in a rush, trying not to miss the time; Lorenzo Marchetti must have arrived already; I'm honestly surprised that no one, not even Tina, had tried to wake me up.
But then I'd been inconsolable earlier after my disastrous meeting with Papa. Everyone had been asking me what Papa had said, so I hurriedly told them without diving into it. But they all wanted more details, especially Mama and Isabella.
I'd burst into tears, told everyone to leave me the fuck alone, and had run to my room, locking myself in. I stared at my reflection. My eyes were a bit red and swollen. Well, that couldn't be helped.
I wore a knee-length golden-brown dress that made my eyes pop; I let down my hair and brushed the long chocolate strands until they shone; I didn't put on any makeup. I didn't see the need for it; the occasion wasn't one of happiness.
Though I'd put on a little bit of concealer to cover up my puffy eyes, I added gold hoops in my ears and a golden bracelet on my wrist for a little bling.
Mama would scold me if I went downstairs without wearing this much at the very least. The shoes on my feet were black, three-inch high heels with straps.
My steps were light as I stepped down the stairs. I could hear several voices as I came closer; everyone was standing and talking. Though Papa had said it was going to be a small gathering, there were more people than I had imagined.
Despite the circumstances, this was supposed to be a happy occasion, at least for Papa and the famiglia. Yet, there was no male laughter or chuckles, only an undercurrent of tension that made the hair on my nape rise with trepidation.
There are many instances in my life where I feel such things moments before things take a turn for the worse. Usually, I was alone when this happened; it was like a sixth sense; some might even call it a premonition.
But what could possibly go wrong right in the middle of my parents' living room with all these soldiers protecting us from outside, and there are more of them inside?
Not to mention Papa, Uncle Romero, my brother Sergio, and my cousins are all here, and all armed to the teeth. I'm sure the weapons on them would be more than enough. Weapons, they would have no problem using on anyone.
Speaking about Papa, he was dressed in a black suit, his dark hair slicked back, his face hard, eyes watchful. He was talking, introducing Mama and the others to someone. A man, no three men, but I couldn't see them properly, only that they were tall—especially the one in the middle.
He was very tall, even taller than Papa, which is impressive because my Papa was tall; I stood on the last step, wondering if I should say anything. Or if I should remain silent and not call any attention to myself.
It didn't even look like anyone noticed my absence. I could go back and spare myself the torture of going through this ritual for the third time in my life. I had decided that was, in fact, a great idea and was about to turn and leave when Papa's eyes caught mine.
“Ah, Sancia, you're right on time. Come over here,” he said and beckoned me to him. I nodded and walked towards him obediently.
I glanced at Mama and Isabella, who were on his other side; my sister looked utterly beautiful in a long-sleeve white dress that reached up to her calves; it fit her slender body and soft curves, not too tight but perfect.
Her long blonde hair swept over one shoulder, and her ear was adorned with diamond studs.
For some reason, I feel like Isabella looks different, though I couldn't quite put my finger on what seems different about her.
Mama was dressed in her favorite color dress, a red cocktail dress, her ears and neck adorned with another one of her diamonds. Tina, Aunt Francesca, Lorena, and everyone were dressed for the occasion. The men all wore suits.
“And this is Sancia, my second daughter,” Papa said. I had been so distracted by my thoughts and staring at my family that Papa's sudden voice startled me. I tear my eyes away from them.
“Hello…” I started looking at the tall figure for the first time; eyes the color of a hungry tiger stared back at me, making my breath hitch, and amber eyes widened in shock. Dreams are just supposed to be that, especially nightmares; they are not supposed to be real, standing in front of you and staring you right in the eyes.
“Diavolo,” I whispered so low I doubted anyone had heard me, but he had; his honey-brown eyes glinted with that same crazy lightness I had seen once a long time ago.
The sight of him right here so unexpectedly in my parents' living room hit me straight in the chest like a locomotive, and with our eyes locked in place like the first time I saw him two years ago, I was frozen in place, too stunned to move or say another word.
“Hello, Sancia,” he said, grinning; dimples dipped, and a shiver raced down my spine at the sound of my name in that voice. The devil knows my name, and he's smiling at me.
I could feel several eyes watching us, but I couldn't, for the life of me, tear my gaze away from this blatant threat to my entire family. How could Papa bring this man here? Did he not know who he was? Can't he see what I see?
Dressed in a navy blue double-breasted suit. His brown hair, a few shades lighter than my brother's, was shaved halfway down the upper side in a man bun, and his left ear was pierced with a black diamond stud.
His face was clear-cut and angular like the finest diamonds, and his lips, currently curled in a wicked grin, were bow-shaped and looked soft.
I took it all in, and it was unfair that just one man could be this gorgeous. If I had ever met anyone so perfect in his physical appearance, it would be him. While I believe he's the most beautiful man I've ever seen in my life, I wasn't enthralled by his good angelic looks.
Looks could be deceiving; I've seen him for who and what he is; his face was nothing but a mask he used to lure in his prey. He's a ruthless predator, and right now, he's in my home. I wondered if I was dreaming. This just couldn't be happening.
The devil is in our house.
“You?” I choked out, wishing my speaking to him would make him disappear and I would realize he was just an illusion.
“I'm glad to see you remember me,” The demon spoke in that deep voice I wish I didn't remember so well.
“What the hell is going on here? Sancia, do you know the Capo of the Marchetti famiglia?” Papa finally said, voice hard as gravel.