Wandering into the bathroom, I note that it’s stocked with everything I could ever need and more – just like Matteo promised. I suppose clothes are the one exception. I didn’t get a good look at everything last night, seeing as I was overwhelmed and went to sleep pretty much right after I finished dinner.
I brush my teeth and comb through my hair, then swipe on some deodorant. I should probably take a shower, but the thought of putting on my same dirty panties makes me cringe. I notice a ruby red robe hanging on the door. I take it off the hook and almost moan at how soft the fabric is. Slipping the robe on, I turn around and take a look at myself in the mirror. It hits a few inches above my knees, which is shorter than any piece of clothing I own, but it’s not indecent.
I don’t see any slippers, socks, or shoes, so I’ll just have to go barefoot. I pause with my hand on the door to the hallway. Is this really happening? Am I really about to traipse around a huge mansion owned by a devastatingly handsome, self-proclaimed cold-hearted criminal in nothing but a robe and underwear?
All of this is completely out of my element. At least it is in my real life. In my book life, however, I’m pretty sure I’ve read this story before, and I have just enough curiosity to see how it ends. I tighten the belt on my robe and step over the threshold into my very own adventure.
✽✽✽
I think I’m lost. No, I know I’m lost. I’ve been wandering around the three-story mansion for twenty minutes trying to find someone to talk to about getting some clothes and starting my new job, but so far, I haven’t encountered a single living soul. I’ve bumped into marble statues and stared at floor to ceiling portraits I’m sure cost a fortune, but I haven’t seen another person yet today.
I should be freaking out a bit, right? I’m not a big fan of change since I had so much of it early on in life, and I don’t like not knowing what’s expected of me. If there are rules, I can abide by them and avoid getting in trouble. If there is a schedule, I can follow it and make sure I’m doing everything efficiently.
In the last twenty-four hours, I’ve had one of the biggest changes of my life. I don’t know what the rules are, and I don’t even know what time it is because Luca said I couldn’t keep my new phone on me. But I’m not scared. Not really, anyway. Anxious, perhaps, but I keep replaying Matteo’s words in my head.
You won’t have to fear for your life or look over your shoulder. Everyone here will treat you with respect. You will not be harmed so long as you stay at the compound.
I know I have no real reason to trust him, but I do. If he wanted to hurt me or send me away, he would have done it yesterday. What would be the point in feeding me a delicious dinner and letting me stay in an immaculate room only to kill me off the next morning?
Matteo is undoubtedly a dangerous man. I’ve seen him be harsh and controlling, but I’ve also seen a sliver of tenderness and vulnerability. Right before he left me with Luca yesterday, he held my chin in his hand and studied me. He saw me, really saw me. And I swear he let me see him too, just for a second. I thought he was going to kiss me. I felt his warm breath on my lips and the heat of his skin so close to mine. But then he ushered me into the office and barked orders at Luca.
I pull the lapels of my robe higher up on my neck and tighten the belt again. I’m a bit chilly after walking around for so long with bare feet and hardly any clothes on. I can feel my nipples pebbling and rubbing against the material of the robe, though I’m not sure if it’s from the cold or from thinking about Matteo.
Turning down yet another hallway, I see a set of ornate double doors that nearly reach the ten-foot tall ceilings. Neither Matteo nor the skinny woman from yesterday said anything about certain rooms being off-limits. And really, how can someone see solid mahogany double doors with intricate scrollwork etched into the surface and not open them up to see what secrets they are hiding?
Okay, I don’t actually know if they are mahogany or not. I’m not exactly an expert in fancy things, but I think mahogany is expensive. Either way, the doors are ridiculously beautiful, like the rest of this place. Or at least what I’ve seen of it in my exploration so far.
As I get closer, I see there are gold handles on each door. I seriously think they are made out of gold. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least. I squeeze my hands into fists and then shake them out. I’m a little intimidated, but more curious than anything else. I haven’t run into anyone yet, there’s no reason to believe I’d see anyone in this room, either.
I grab both handles and pull the doors open dramatically, just because I can.
And boy, am I glad I did.
The doors open up into a massive library that rivals the one in my favorite fairy tale. I don’t care if Matteo is a bit of a beast as long as I get to be his beauty.
All sense of nervousness is gone, and I don’t even feel the chill of the hardwood floor beneath my bare feet anymore. I make my way towards the nearest wall of built-in shelves and trail my fingertips along the book spines as I make my way down to the other side of the library.
I take note of the different genres and authors – at least what I can see of them. The bookshelves nearly reach the top of the ten-foot ceiling. I can't wait to finally try out one of those rolling ladders I see in movies and old photos so I can see the rest of Matteo's collection.
I'm surprised to find not only classic works but contemporary novels as well. There are poetry collections, mystery series, even textbooks, and a section for periodicals. I grab an Agatha Christie book, always a safe bet, and curl up in an oversized chair by one of the large, stained glass windows near the back of the room.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but a growl jolts me awake and I drop the book that was resting over my chest. I can’t really be blamed for taking a nap when the sun is streaming through the window and warming me up while I snuggle into my blanket-robe.
I turn my head in the direction of the growl, not surprised to see that it came from Matteo. My breath is caught in my throat. I dreamt of him all night, but those images don’t hold a candle to the real-life man standing in front of me.
His shoulders are broader than I remember, and his nose slightly more angled. Those eyes though. I don’t think I could ever forget their complexity and depth.
“What the hell are you wearing?” He practically snarls at me. I wince at his harshness and see his features soften ever so much.
“I didn’t have anything else. That lady burned my clothes yesterday,” I try to explain as I scramble to sit up and adjust my robe that had inched up my thighs and parted a little too much while I was taking a nap.
Matteo clenches his jaw and furrows his brow, the tendons in his neck bulging and pulsing with anger. His breath comes out in short, forceful bursts and his hands ball up into fists at his sides. Finally, the beast towering over me takes a breath.
“Did you check the closet?” He grits out, averting his eyes from me.
Am I really that repulsive in this robe?
The thought of him not even being able to look at me hurts more than it should. I’ve built him up into some sort of anti-hero with a secret heart of gold, but maybe I was just reading into the situation what I wanted to.
I try not to let the sudden wave of sadness show as I square my shoulders to answer him. I'm equal parts devastated and annoyed. How can he blame me when he literally ordered someone to burn my clothes? And then he dares to tell me to check the closet? I'm not one for confrontation, but he's being ridiculous.