had to go on an urgent business trip,” he explained. “Needless to say, he was not happy about leaving his bride behind. But he has asked me to keep a close eye on my new mistress, and let him know how you are coping.”
Desperation took hold of me, and I gave Henry a pleading look. “Don't tell him you saw me crying.”
“Why? Are you afraid he might be moved by your tears?” He looked at me expectantly. “Let me set your fears at ease. Alessandro Damiani couldn't have cared less if his intentions left you hurt and crying.”
Then why the flowers? Why the note? Why when he didn't do romance...when he didn't do sweet? I wanted to ask the mean butler, but swallowed the question and disappeared into the bathroom.
Locking the door behind me, I filled the bathtub with warm water, and didn't bother to stop the tears from falling as I frantically scrubbed Alessandro's scent from my skin.
***
Alessandro's sudden absence after our wedding provided me with some comfort, but it didn't bring much peace because I knew he'd be back very soon. And I wasn't entirely free of him because he kept calling me every night, talking to me as if we were an ordinary married couple. He never once mentioned our wedding night, the roses, or the note. Instead, he informed me now that I was his wife, I was free to roam the house, and was more than welcome to go shopping or anywhere else for as long as I was accompanied by his bodyguards. I wanted to ask if that entailed the opportunity to visit my family and see May. But the question would only end up awakening his animosity, so I kept my mouth shut. The man who had treated me with such cruelty seemed so kind, charming, and completely harmless on the phone, but I knew better than to fall into that trap again. The very sound of his voice filled me with terror, and brought tears to my eyes; but I bottled up my emotions and treated him with polite curtness, answering all of his questions while asking none.
Even though the fact I was allowed to explore the house instead of being locked up in my room only meant my cage became slightly bigger, I couldn't deny the illusion of freedom offered a temporary distraction from the depressing thoughts that wouldn't stop torturing my mind. Upon the very first inspection of Alessandro's immaculate mansion, I discovered it was decorated in a very cold and minimalistic style. Touches of Italian art were sprinkled around the hallways and hidden corners. The house had two wings and there were so many rooms—at some point—I wasn't sure if I would be able to find my way back. I had seen multiple living rooms, offices, a media room, a gym and even a large swimming pool. Needless to say, the sight of all that luxury left me both intimidated and impressed because it was so far removed from what I was used to that it resembled an unreal nightmarish dream. The more I explored, the more it became clear Alessandro Damiani had more money than any man could spend in a lifetime and—once again—I wondered about his exact line of business. Common sense told me to connect the dots and it would be crystal clear what my husband did for a living, but I couldn't bring myself to a realization that I was married to a criminal.
As I walked past one of the rooms, observing the white statues of naked men and women arranged for display against a long wall, I heard the voice of Henry Wyatt. He was whispering something as though taking extra measures of caution not to be overheard in this vast empty mansion. His secretive behavior only spiraled my curiosity. I paused by the edge of the door, trying to decipher his silent words.
“The eagle has landed,” he said quietly. “The coast is clear. We'll have the goods ready by the morning.”
I had to suppress the need to burst out laughing because this scripted communication was so poorly imagined that even an outsider like myself could understand he referred to Alessandro's departure which gave them the opportunity to do something they could have never done in his presence. I didn't care, and I had no intention to get involved or warn my husband that his butler conspired against him. As far as I was concerned, it was none of my business. But the information