I woke up to an empty room, which should have made me happy. Yet I felt disappointed, maybe I was looking forward to a showdown every morning, even though it would leave me losing.
The room was quiet, which was like always, even if he were here or not. I welcomed the smell of a fresh breakfast when I neared the couch. I looked back and saw the time. I slept in.
Probably why I missed him.
Damiano and I hadn't said another word to each other since our close showdown yesterday evening. Even during our awkward meal he had prepared, he didn't say much to me.
I was the one who was supposed to be giving the silent treatment, not the one at the receiving end of it.
Or was he plotting something?
I sat on the couch, my eyes immediately noticing my phone.
He didn't take it away? I thought.
I picked it up, unlocking it, flooded with notifications from everyone, and most of all, Angela saying I should call her immediately, right under her 50 unread messages were Logan's 15.
I archived his, not wanting to deal with that.
I opted for texting Angela.
Me: Hey, I'm fine.
Mom said you stopped her from starting a search party.
Oh, thank God, that would have been embarrassing.
I put the phone away, reaching for my coffee cup. Just before I could do anything, my phone buzzed, and I heard a knock on the door.
I still took a sip of my coffee, taking a breath, allowing the beverage to prepare me for the day. Only that I'd probably not be doing much today.
"Sleeping beauty, you there?" I heard Matteo's voice call out from the other side of the door.
"Come in", I said before taking a longer sip.
Matteo strolled I'm in a casual white T-shirt and light blue jeans, showing off some tattoos that decorated his arm.
I chuckled to myself, remembering how I thought he was even half as serious as his brother when we met.
Matteo was a goof.
"I almost thought he smothered you with a pillow or something, he said as he made himself comfortable, taking a piece of tangerine from my breakfast tray.
"I think my fear of being smothered with a pillow passed after my first night here", I said, grabbing a piece of toast.
Just before I took a bite, a thought stopped me. Did Damiano make this?
I dropped the toast, going for more coffee instead. Catching Matteo's eyes watching me, I turned my eyes back to my coffee, taking a long and final sip.
"Why take coffee? Are you planning to work today?" Matteo asked, taking another piece of fruit.
I rolled my eyes at him, of course, he was going to judge me about coffee.
My phone buzzed again, drawing both of our attention.
I grabbed it, looking over Angela's text.
Angela: what was really embarrassing was your high school sweetheart being stood up at the altar
I winced as I read that.
Angela: I mean, I knew you were having cold feet, but I thought you would at least give him an explanation, Sib.
This is so not like you
You should have seen him,
He was devastated
I swallowed, suddenly feeling guilty even though it wasn't even my fault.
"What's wrong?
Who is that?", Matteo asked, his voice was calm, not in a prying way but in a 'you look like crap, what's wrong way'.
"It's my best friend Angela.
She says my fiancé...…." I paused, not very confident in my word choice for some reason.
"Logan, the guy I left at the altar.
She says he's been devastated".
"You didn't leave him at the altar, though.
You were kidnapped?", Matteo half asked, half pointed out.
I shook my head, kissing my teeth.
"Yeah, I was.
Well, he's devastated either way, and I can't bring myself to call him and tell him...….."
"And tell him anything", I said to myself.
I had thought about what I would be able to tell him, but it just never felt right. The thought of even hearing his voice again made my heart sink.
"Even the truth?", Matteo enquired.
My eyes shot to him, his words catching me off guard.
"I mean, if you think telling him would make things easier.
And not ruin your chances of leaving here safely with no casualties.
Then?".
"Do you think Damiano won't have a way to know what I say to him, and kill him if I tell him the truth?
Do you think Damiano was bluffing?" I asked. If anyone between the two of us knew what Damiano was capable of, it would be him.
"Honestly.
Damiano is more than capable of fulfilling his threat.
Sadly, you have a better chance of him letting you go, offering a truce.
Than to somehow get around him.
Unless you're willing to kill him".
Matteo's words stung; they made a sad reality set in. A reality I always knew was there.
I didn't say anything else, I didn't know what to say. Or even what to think.
As much as I hated Damiano, was I capable of killing him? I didn't think so.
Did Damiano look like he would call a truce anytime soon? I don't think so either.
I went back to my breakfast, no longer caring if he was the chef for this morning, and just eating in silence. Matteo, respecting my wishes, picked at the bowl of fruit.
It turned out just like yesterday, eating in silence gave me an even bigger appetite.
The breakfast tray was empty by the time I was done, well, by the time Matteo and I were done.
"Wanna explore Damiano's castle together?", Matteo asked.
I swallowed my last piece of food, taking a sip of water.
"Oh, come on, you can't stay cooped up in here.
You'll go mad", he said.
"Well, you'll go madder", he corrected, making me glare at him.
"What's there to see?" I asked as I got up from the couch.
"I don't know.
That's why we're going to see what there is to see.
Know the territory, gather useful intel, maybe find his gun room", he said.
My eyes shot to him.
"Oh, come on.
He's the acting CEO, of course, he has a gun room".
I thought back to when Damiano had told me he had a gun but wasn't going to use it on me. I had never seen the gun, so it was natural that I called his bluff.
"Fine, we'll meet outside my door in 30", I said, and Matteo punched the air like a silly teenage boy.
"Take your time, baby,
You're mine for the day", he sang, hands spread out as he walked backwards, to the door.
I smiled, feeling silly for having fun when my life was in captivity.
But it didn't feel forced, being around Matteo.
He blew me a kiss before closing the door behind him. I shook my head, then reached for my phone. Writing a text to Angela.
Me: I'll call him.
I got ready, dressing for the weather in a short sundress. I even wore a bathing suit, feeling like we could find a pool.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror, my hair in a ponytail tail and rubbed my lips together. Giving the blush pink lipstick one more look.
Was I doing too much?
Maybe.
Did I feel comfortable?
Yes.
Did I look and feel the best I had felt since I got to the prison?
Definitely.
I even picked up a brown sandal that paired perfectly with my dress. Today was going to be a casual sunny day.
I went to the door to see Matteo leaning on the door in front of me with a book in his hand, eyes peering inside. He almost didn't look at me.
Then he did. And he smiled, a wide close close-lipped smile.
"You should have told me of the dress code", he said as I closed the door behind me, closing it shut behind me.
"I thought the weather would give it away, I think we have a pool?" I said.
"Yes, we do", I heard Dave say, making his presence known; he was standing next to the door frame, his usual post.
I smiled at him, happy to see him, and he greeted me with a short nod.
Matteo, on the other hand, did not look impressed.
I suddenly felt cold standing between the two, noticing how Dave's gaze was anywhere but on Matteo, and Matteo was on Dave, almost glaring.
"Let's get going", Matteo said, and I followed him, Dave trailing behind. Which did not surprise me, but seemed to irk Matteo, because just 10-15 steps from my door. Matteo did a 180, turning to Dave, who halted, and so did I.
"You could give us some space, Mr Patel", Matteo said in the most professional voice I've heard him in, his eyes trained on Dave, like he was irritated, very irritated.
"Apologies, but Mr Gusto asked me to keep close watch on Ms Rooney", Dave answered, looking at Matteo but with almost no emotion. Only I could hear his tone, it was off.
"We need space, Dave", Matteo interjected, sounding dismissive.
"He's just doing his job, Matteo", I interrupted, feeling like I was interrupting more than just this tense conversation.
"He *chose* this job", Matteo said. Turning around, then walking off, leaving Dave and me stunned. Dave? He looked hurt.
I gave Dave a small smile before we started walking again, catching up with Matteo by the stairs.
Our tour around the house wasn't much of a tour because we went straight to the pool, the pool which was gorgeous.
Matteo and I spent most of the day lounging around, taking a dip, and we even had lunch by the pool.
The sun was almost setting when we decided to tour around; this time, Dave was more paces behind us.
We saw the library, which had a boring compilation of books. Damiano's study, some spare rooms, and Matteo even showed me the room the room he had colonised downstairs, which was already losing its Damiano essence because Matteo was already moving his stuff in.
He was serious, he wasn't going anywhere until I was safely out of Damiano's reach. Although he told me he was going to have to go to work soon, he worked in the ER, and he was on call in the city hospital.
Which I found weird when I had noticed just how much of a decorated doctor he was, especially with his doctorate in pathology.
I guess he wanted more to help than to achieve.
We were now walking on my floor and wanted to check the other rooms there. I noticed a perfectly functioning, stocked second office, which we both shook our heads at. Silently agreeing that Damiano had an unhealthy work life, among many things.
We reached the last room at the end of the hall, the door just like all the others, but I had a feeling the room wouldn't be.
It smelled faintly of old wood and old paper. Making me even more curious.
Damiano opened the door, and the smell hit me first before my eyes registered what was in there: paint, varnish, old wood, and something nostalgic.
My heart slammed hard into my ribs, it smelled like my studio. And as I walked into the room, stunned, my eyes confirmed that it was.
Perfectly placed on the white walls were my art, my works.
This was my studio.