Chapter 24 Chapter 24
He doesn't answer right away. I just hear him lighting a cigarette. There's a click, then a brief hiss, and the smell of tobacco fills the air. His voice finally sounds rough, with a hint of amusement in it. “A family reunion with the Petrovichs? How festive!” A pause. I know he's grinning. I can feel it without having to see it. “I hope your mother serves up more than just passive-aggressive glances across the table!” I turn slowly, leaning against the doorframe, my eyes burning with anger and something I don't want to name. "You don't need to be afraid! I'm sure she'll pull herself together! It's just that sometimes her forks end up in hands where they shouldn't!“ He laughs quietly, then takes a deep drag on his cigarette. ”Sounds like a terrific afternoon! And you really want me to come along? I mean, I'm only your husband on paper! At least according to your last speech!“ I laugh bitterly. ”No," I say dryly. “But I guess my parents want me to! And I don't feel like incurring any more wrath from my father!” Alessandro looks at me with an expression that is somewhere between mockery, curiosity, and something darker that I can't quite grasp. The smoke curls around his face as if he wants to hide behind it or mock me. “Well then,” he says slowly. “For your parents. For appearances. And maybe also to see how much you squirm when I sit next to you and kiss your mother's hand.” I shake my head, turn around, and open the door. "Dress properly, De Luca! And wash off that bitch's scent! Otherwise my mother will tear your head off before she even says your name!“ ”I promise!“ His voice follows me quietly. ”I'll even wear something with a collar, for you! My husband." I leave without answering. The door slams shut. And only in the hallway do I really breathe out again. My heart is pounding. My hands are shaking. death. I don't know how, but I know I've lost this fight. Even though I couldn't fool him, my plan to destroy this wretched clan remains, but for that, I have to find a way out of their clutches. Sunday comes faster than I thought. The days before were dreary: eating, training, and closely observing the surveillance system and the employees. I tried to avoid running into my husband as much as possible, but I still made a game of spoiling every sexual encounter he had with the employees here. When Sebastian arrives to pick us up, I immediately go to him, not giving a damn about what anyone else might think, and pull him into one of our brotherly hugs. "Damn, man, it feels so good to see you!" Sebastian returns the hug without hesitation, patting me firmly on the back twice. "So you're still alive," he murmurs, pulling me away slightly, scrutinizing me with that scrutinizing look he always gave me when he wanted to know if I'd messed up. "You look worse than I expected." I grin narrowly. "You've always been good at giving compliments." "It's called realism." He studies me again briefly, then casually slides a pair of sunglasses toward me. "Put these on. You look like you've been negotiating with a demon for the last few days." I snatch them from his hand. "Close. I live with one." I hear footsteps behind us. Alessandro. Of course. Every step he takes sounds like the ground has to move in response. He stops right next to me, his gaze briefly on Sebastian, then back at me. “How touching. It almost seems like you missed me, Petrovich.” “Keep dreaming.” I walk past the car, open the door, and get in. Sebastian exchanges a quick, dry, wordless glance with Alessandro, their unspoken mutual distaste written all over their faces. Then he gets in the front seat. The air is thick in the car. I feel my neck tense almost as soon as we leave the property. Alessandro sits next to me, too relaxed, as if this were a Sunday outing and not the road to one of my own personal nightmares. “So,” Sebastian begins, without taking his eyes off the road, “your mother warned me! Told you to behave!” I roll my eyes. “That was probably her first mistake!” “And the second?” I nod my head to the side where Alessandro is just casually putting a cigarette between his lips. “He’s sitting next to me!” Alessandro snorts, amused. "This is the first family I've met where I'm actually wondering if I'll leave the house alive!" "Don't worry," I mutter, "if you're lucky, my father will take care of it before dessert!" "Sounds like I should skip dessert!" "Sounds like you should skip the whole damn meal!" Sebastian's face twists into a barely perceptible grin. "I bet twenty that one of you two will kill the other before coffee, at the latest." I lean back. "Make that fifty. I'm in a good mood today!" "Because you're going home?" "Because I know my father hates me more than him!" Alessandro turns to me, smiling crookedly. "Well, this is going to be a splendid family afternoon!" I turn my head, look out the window where the driveway to my parents' estate is already in sight—sprawling, ostentatious, a cage of glass and concrete that only shines from the outside. My stomach clenches. "Ready?" Sebastian asks dryly. I exhale, my sunglasses slipping a little lower. "I'm never ready for this place!" The iron gate opens, and as the car slowly rolls down the driveway, I can already see my parents' silhouettes at the entrance. My mother immaculate, as always, my father upright, cold as steel. Alessandro follows my gaze, his grin slowly fading. "Tell me, Nicolai," he whispers softly, "if looks could kill, would this be your funeral or mine?" "If you're lucky," I murmur, "both of ours!" I stay seated until Sebastian comes around the car and opens the door for me. Then I get out. Since I've been eating normally again for days, my skin isn't as sunken in anymore. I almost look like I did before Selena died. I know I have an attractive appearance and that I look very good in a suit like the one I'm wearing today. But I also know that you can still see how much Selena's death affected me, how much my body suffered because of my mental state. And yet here I am, standing in a tailored suit before my parents, never quite sure whether they hate or love me. I walk towards them without checking if Alessandro has already gotten out of the car and hug my mother. I see that hint of sadness in her eyes that I can't quite place, the contempt in Vito's gaze as he glares at Alessandro, and that steely stare of my father, too perfect, too rehearsed. "Hey Mom," my father says, pulling me into a hug after her, which surprises me. "Hello, my son, we need to talk later, preferably alone." I freeze inside. My father never calls me that. Not in that tone. Not with that kind of closeness, which is anything but close. I nod silently, feeling the steely grip of his hand on my back, which feels more like a command than a gesture of affection. "Sure," I murmur. "After dinner?" "After the first glass of wine," he replies dryly and lets go. Meanwhile, my mother continues to scrutinize me with that penetrating gaze, as if she wants to see right through my skin to find out if there is anything alive beneath the surface.