Chapter Thirty-nine

LUNA

It was finally evening, and my heart thudded in my chest as Ophelia and the guard re-entered my room. I had been lying folded on the bed with the duvet over me, biting my finger anxiously, but I sprung up when I heard the door unlock and open.

“Look alive, it’s finally time,” the guard said, and laughed, unlocking my chains.

I jumped down from the bed and followed Ophelia into the closet. She dropped the huge bag of whatever and helped me undress. She ran a warm bath, and I sighed as I slid into it.

Silence reigned for a while, my mind buzzing with a lot of questions and possibilities.

“Ophelia?”

“Hmm.”

“This man. Your boss. Who is he?” Her hands paused in their ministrations for a bit and then continued.

“I’m not at liberty to say, but…” She sighed. “But…he is obsessed with you.”

“Do you know what it is I’m doing here?”

“No. But what I can say is that you won’t be harmed. You will be taken care of. He is that obsessed with you.”

“Oh. I guess that’s reassuring then,” I muttered under my breath.

We finished with the bath, and after she had toweled me dry and checked my wounds, she pulled out an evening gown and handed it over to me.

I carefully took the gown from her and held it up to the light. It was a floor-length turtle-neck lace gown with very short sleeves. It had a little oval shape in the front of the gown, and a black embellishment right above that oval.

“Put it on. We don’t have all night,” Ophelia said. I did as I was told, and I gasped as I looked at myself in the mirror. The gown was fitted and had a little flare from right above my knee to the ground.

Despite myself, I had to appreciate the beauty that was this gown.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, dreamily looking at myself in the mirror.

“I know. The boss said that you wear it.” That was enough to knock me out of whatever dreamland I had slipped into.

“What?” Ophelia shrugged and went to work on my face, applying makeup. She took out the French braids and set my hair up in a loose bun. I looked in the mirror at the final results. I looked good, but I just didn’t feel good. She handed me a pair of silver pumps that were surprisingly my size. At this point, I shouldn’t be surprised by anything. I put them on and we were ready to roll.

We exited the bathroom, and the guard stood from his seat at my table, dropping the book he had been reading.

“You clean up nicely,” he said to me.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“Let’s go. Do not even think of trying anything funny.” I nodded.

We left Ophelia in the room and began walking down the hallway. Went down a flight of stairs, and then into a large dining room.

The second I stepped in, it felt like I had stepped into a shrine dedicated to me. Several portraits of me were hanging on the walls. The whole room was lit with red and white candles, giving it the feel of a shrine. One portrait, in particular, caught my gaze—it was a painting of me…in this very dress I was in…with the very same hairstyle. How did that happen?

“Do you like what you see?” I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the voice. This man sat in the shadows. “It took years to collect everything you see here.”

Years? What was this psycho talking about? He stepped out of the shadows, and my eyes opened in surprise, shock…and then fear. Guillermo.

“You?”

He spread out his arms and smiled. “Yes. Me.” He took a few steps towards me, and then drained his glass, dropping it on the table filled with candles. “I did tell you that we would meet again, didn’t I?”

I took a few steps back as he came closer to me. His eyes roamed my body from head to my toe. I could feel my hands and my thighs begin to sweat and roll down into my shoes.

“Why would you do this?”

“Sit.” He walked over to the table and sat down at one end, waiting for me to do the same.

I tried moving backward, but strong hands grabbed me by my forearm and dragged me to the chair at the other end of the table, forcing me into it. I tried getting up but was forced back in. I heard the clanking of chains and looked down to see the guard chaining my feet to the chair.

Tears sprung to my eyes as my brain registered defeat. And in my mind, I began praying that Giovanni didn’t take long to find me.

“Don’t do that. I won’t hurt you.”

“Why am I here?!”

“Because it’s about time you knew the truth.”

“What truth? That you were obsessed with my mother, and then she left you for a better man?!”

“Enzo was not a better man,” he said through gritted teeth. He sighed and reclined in his chair.

“You look beautiful in that gown. It was your mother’s. I had gotten it for her on one of our many vacations in China.” My eyes immediately drifted to the painting that I had seen earlier.

“Is that her?”

His eyes drifted to it too, and he smiled softly. “Yes. She was a real beauty.”

“Why did she leave you?”

“Isabella and I…we’ve always had our differences. And that meant that we argued all the time. And sometimes, it got physical.”

My breath caught in my throat. “You hit her.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t that serious.”

“And you wonder why she left you.”

His eyes turned fiery. “Your mother and I were destined to be together. You were meant to be my child.”

“Thankfully, I’m not. Imagine being the daughter of a man who doesn’t think he did anything wrong when he did all the wrong.” He shook his head ruefully.

“You think Enzo was a good man? He killed people just like me.”

“What am I doing here? What do you want from me?”

He sighed and stood from his seat, walking to a portrait of my mother. “For years, I have been asking God and your mother for forgiveness.” I didn’t like where this was going. “I have been asking for a second chance.”

He raised both hands to his chest and began muttering some words. My eyes widened in shock. This was a shrine—a shrine for my mother. Ophelia was right. This man was obsessed…and maybe possessed.

“They have finally had mercy on my poor soul and answered my prayers.” He turned to me and began walking slowly toward me.

“They sent you.”

“No.”

“Yes.” He walked towards me and grabbed my face in his arms, forcing his lips on mine. I struggled to no avail and then resorted to biting him. I bit down on his lip as hard as I could, and he drew back, swearing. I looked up to see that his lower lip was bleeding.

“You little bitch!!!” I had very little reaction time before his hand fell against my face, sending me to sleep.