Sold To Mr. Milano - Daniella Wright Page 0,19

again, locking the door behind her. I was dizzy and my headache got worse as I cradled my forehead in my hands. The woman quickly appeared again with a fresh set of linens.

More memories started crashing over me while she worked. She shooed me away from my seat at the edge of the bed, barely giving me time to catch my footing as I stumbled to get out of her way. That’s when I felt it...or rather the absence of the feeling that I knew should be there. My throat all but closed up with the realization, but it took me a few seconds to finally be brave enough to actually look. First, I moved my hand down to where the prosthetic belly should have been. When I felt nothing, I forced myself to tilt my head down to see that it was actually gone.

I couldn’t hide my urgency. I gasped and began to look around for some way to flee. My fake pregnancy was the only thing that convinced Alberto to show me any mercy. Now not only was it gone, but he would know I lied.

“Ah, yes. That was quite a stunt you pulled,” the old woman cackled, noticing how I felt around my bare stomach. “I’ve seen many things in my days, but can’t say I’ve seen that before. A woman pretending to be pregnant...with a belly and all! Tsk, tsk.”

“What...what happened?” I asked, playing dumb.

I knew what had happened. I had been thrown from the horse, and now I was here. But I was hoping she’d reveal what happened while I was out. Did Alberto know? Was my secret completely out?

“It’s been quite the scandal around here,” she replied. “Not that we needed any more of that with the Milanos. It’s never boring. But this is...unique, that’s for sure.”

I stammered, unsure if it would do me any good to ask if Alberto knew. Of course, he knew. He had to. It was no use anyway. The woman in her apron had finished making the bed and was already shuffling back out the door.

“Wait!” I cried. “What happens now? Where am I?”

“Can’t say really,” she shook her head.

I raced over to grab her hand. “Please! Where are you going? When can I leave!?”

She whipped around and stared back at me, her face unreadable. But soon her lips curled into a big grin with a big, hearty chortle. “Leave!?” Her laughter was snatched up with a coughing fit as she yanked her arm away from me and continued out the door, once again locking it behind her.

Once her footsteps faded away, I rushed over to the door and began frantically pulling at the handle. My only saving grace was gone. My lie was revealed. I knew I didn’t have much time, if it wasn’t already too late. I had to get out of here. My eyes darted around the room. I grasped for some plan of how I might escape, but the only thing between me and the outside world was the very sturdy, locked door. I sunk back down to the edge of the bed with my heart pounding even harder than before.

There was no way to know how much time was passing. I was alone with no way to tell the time. It was like when I first arrived at the Milano estate, only this time my head injury clouded my perception, and I didn’t have the safety of a delicate condition to hide behind. Alberto wouldn’t blink an eye at killing me now. I wondered why he hadn’t done it already, but then a chilling thought crept it. He would probably want me to be awake for it, and he would probably do it slowly.

Being alone with my thoughts only made them spiral out of control more. I was in a total panicked frenzy that I did my best to contain when the caregiver returned, bringing me a tray of food. She plopped it down on the table without a word before turning to leave again. I was suddenly starving and eager to see what she had brought. I raced over and lifted the cover to reveal a bowl of slop and moldy bread. It was a far cry from the meals I had been served before.

I had been so caught up in trying to uncover something on the Milanos, that I hadn’t thought too much about my father since coming here. I imagined what it would be like when I could go back to