AMARA
I knew the day was going to be absolute shit when I woke up with that stain on the bed.
My stomach felt groggy, and my eyes raw. I hated that I'd cried so much the night before. But it had all been too much. Memories of Philip, and then everything that had later ensued after.
The mood that had been on the verge of plummeting soured all the more when I noticed the red stain on the bed.
Like instinct, there was a small knock on the door and a maid quietly slipped in. She had red hair that demanded attention and stark green eyes.
"Good morning, ma'am." She bowed her head. "I'm Farah, the head maid of the estate. Whatever it is you need, please know that we're all at your beck and call. Your comfort is our priority and we'll do whatever makes your home more to your liking."
Home.
My lips thinned into a grim line, a wave of nausea clawing at my throat. Such a warm word for a place that felt more like a prison. I simply nodded, forcing myself off the bed. Her eyes lingered on the stained bed for a second more before she clapped her hands.
Almost methodically, three more maids filtered in, each holding one thing or the other in hand. I watched as one stripped the bed, then the other began cleaning up the antiques on the shelf by the rear end of the room.
One of them quietly walked into the bathroom and a moment later, I heard the sound of water running.
"Your bath should be ready in a few minutes, signora."
My lady. It was a term meant to make me feel more grounded I suppose. Instead of that, all I could feel was a raging wave of nausea that had me wanting to regurgitate everything I'd struggled to eat yesterday.
"I'll ring for your breakfast to be brought to you right away, signora." Farah continued. "Then after that, we'll have the designer bring in all the dresses for your engagement party."
That was the final nail on the coffin.
I took in a shaky breath, willing myself to stay calm. "Could you all…leave please?"
Farah's widened just a bit. But she calmly nodded, bowing her head a little before clapping her hands once.
All the maids, including the one who'd hurried to run my bath all left the room in silence. Once the door slam shut, it was just me again. My knees threatened to buckle as I could feel the weight of everything slowly crashing down.
I took in a shaky breath, forcing my legs forward into the bathroom. The warm water did little to ease my nerves but I soaked it all in. I shut my eyes, letting the silence roll through me.
Things had changed now. And I couldn't afford to be so weak to let Dante spearhead everything. He wanted a fake wife? Well, he would get just what he asked for.
.
.
.
Everywhere seemed to go still when I walked out of my room. Each maid I walked past would bow or greet to which I'd respond with a curt nod.
I'd just about reached the foyer when a maid hurried over to me. She bowed. "The designers are here. They wish to see you, signora."
I steeled my expression. "I'll be there soon."
For a few minutes I simply stood at the foyer, measuring each and every last bit of the estate I could take in. What would be my new home and prison. If this was going to be hell for me, I planned on dragging Dante down with me.
Sure enough, there was a lady sitting on the living room couch when I walked in. As soon as she saw me, she hurried to her feet.
"Thank you for coming all the way." I smiled.
"I am Renee Bourgeois." She returned it, albeit a bit wider than necessary. "It's an honor to be creating something for you on what would be such a memorable day."
I forced a smile, beckoning on her to sit, before taking the spot opposite her. I called for one of the maids and asked her to bring tea before turning to Renee. She immediately pulled out what looked like magazine and handed it to me.
"Here are some custom designs we have for luxury settings." She explained, pointing at certain ball gowns as I flipped through the pages.
Her voice was heavily accented with a French intonation. I'd heard about a designer going under the alias Bourgeois. It had to be her.
She'd always been heavily sought after, with all her pieces donned by the high echelon of mafia society.
To think Dante had pulled all the stops just for some wedding that was no more than a ruse.
"And all the dresses are custom?" I asked, pausing at a particular dress that caught my eye.
All her designs were undoubtedly gorgeous, but something about this…I imagined what Dante's reaction would be. And I knew I had to have it.
"This." I handed it over to her.
Renee nodded eagerly, a look of excitement in her eyes as she turned to me. "You'd look incredibly beautiful, madame. Tres bien."
"Thank you," I smiled. "You don't think it's too much, do you?"
She shook her head. "Non, non…not too much. Most women ask to be seen. You, I think, prefer to be remembered."
Something about her words made my stomach flutter. I thought of Dante, of how he'd made it clear that we were doing things his way.
I'd make him eat his words soon enough.
Renee stayed for a few sips of tea, before insisting that she had to begin with the dress to get it all ready tomorrow.
I had one of the maids see her out, already thinking of locking myself in my room. Maybe I'd spend the whole day there, unbothered by anybody.
A small wince left me when I ran straight into a wall. Just my luck for not watching where I was going.
"Sorry."
I froze. Walls didn't talk. I raise my head to meet Caspian's gaze. Of all the people I met, it just had to be the second in command himself.
I was about to excuse myself and leave when he leaned forward. My stomach churned from how close he was. Too close for comfort.
The cold glare in his eyes was enough to make my chest tighten.
"Done playing your little game?"