In the end, I'm still a pawn. I just changed masters.
ENZO DOESN'T COME BACK to the room, and I don't even want to think where he spent the night. It's best if I detach myself from him.
The following morning I'm told my mother-in-law is waiting for me to have breakfast. A little scared, but mostly determined to not let her walk all over me, I head to the dining room.
Lucia Agosti is sitting at one end of the table, a cup of coffee in her hand. When she hears me step inside, she raises her eyes and a pure malicious smile spreads all over her face. There are a couple of servants in the room, and because of their presence, that malevolence seems to be contained to a forced greeting and a fake laughter as she asks me how I slept.
I take a seat as far away from her, and I try to maintain my calm.
"Good," I start, and looking up I see her staring expectantly at me. "I didn't know Enzo would be so..." I pause when I see her eyes narrow at me, "demanding. Not in his parents' house."
I bring the glass of orange juice to my lips, watching from beneath my lashes as her hands clench in anger. I guess this hit her right where I wanted it to.
If she'd been so concerned about me being pregnant before, then she should continue to stew, thinking I could fall pregnant at any point. I don't know what her deal is, aside from the fact that she clearly favored Gianna Guerra as her daughter-in-law, but that doesn't mean I will let her terrorize me.
Her eyes pin me with the intensity of her hate, and she opens her mouth, about to say something, when a server brings over another dish.
I ignore her as I stuff my plate with food and continue to eat in silence.
Just as I'm about to help myself to a second serving, Lucia speaks.
"Ana, please take Allegra's plate. I think she's had enough for today." I stare in awe as the woman takes away my plate, a small frown on her face as she sees my expression. But Lucia is all too happy to see me squirm, so I quickly school my features.
"Yes, thank you, Ana. I must have been ravenous after all that exercise last night." I say, and Lucia's triumphant smile morphs into one of anger. So much so that she stands up from her chair and plops herself in front of me.
"I don't know where Enzo found you, or how he can even stand to look at you," she scrunches her nose in disgust as she looks me up and down. I meet her gaze quietly, waiting for the other insults she probably stashed away.
"But you don't fool me. You're just a greedy little slut trying to take advantage of my son. You're not the first or the last who's tried to take him from me, and you won't succeed. Mark my words," she lowers her head towards me, "you little whore, you won't survive long in this house."
"Is that a threat, Signora Agosti?"
And I thought my parents were awful. What is wrong with this woman?
"No," she smirks, crossing her arms in front of her chest and looking down at me as if I'm beneath her, "it's a promise."
She moves to leave, but I can't let her have the last word. So I say the only thing I can think of.
"You sure care a lot about your son, Signora Agosti. I wonder if you're not just jealous of me..." I trail off suggestively, and her shocked expression tells me I hit the mark. She's quick as she moves in front of me, arm raised, slap ready to go.
But I'm also prepared.
I catch her wrist, my fingers wrapping around it in a painful hold.
"I think you chose the wrong target for your abuse, Signora Agosti. I will neither stay quiet nor tolerate this type of behavior."
"And what can you do? Tell on me?" She laughs, slowly trying to take her hand out of my grip.
"No. I couldn't care less about what your son thinks. But I can defend myself too, and if you start a war, don't come crying when it's too much." I push her aside and go back to my room.
I'm sweating, the mental toll of the confrontation making me gasp for air.
Hell! I'm in hell.
I take a deep breath, and I go to my luggage. Taking out a few of my belongings, I find my diary ensconced at the bottom. There's a certain type of catharsis to be found in laying down your most intimate thoughts and fears. And my diary is my most trusted confidante who's been with me for years.
I start jotting down my thoughts, but also plans of attack. Because Lucia is wrong if she thinks she can bully me.
I may be in a foreign land, and among strange people. But I won't give up.
TWO DAYS PASS, BOTH riddled with hostile remarks and thick tension around the house. Neither Rocco nor Enzo are around, so Lucia continues to openly spite me every chance she has.
For the most part, I try to stay in my room to avoid any confrontation, but the more time goes by the more I realize I can't hide forever. Nor can I just exist within four walls with nothing to do.
As I decide my next course of action, I'm notified by a member of the staff that there will be a banquet tonight. To officially announce the marriage and save face in front of the other families and important guests, Rocco had decided to throw an all-out fete to present Enzo's marriage to the poor Marchesi girl as a success, an intentional decision and not one borne out of necessity.
My presence being mandatory, there's nothing else to be done but to await a further humiliation. I can already hear the echoes of laughter and the gazes of pity — isn't that all I've ever received so far?
Sometime in the afternoon, Ana comes by, bringing me a dress for the evening.
"Signor Enzo instructed me to give you this."
I take out the box from her hands and lay it on the bed. Inside is a bright red dress that glitters in the light.
My mouth opens in shock as I look at the most beautiful gown I'd ever had. I don't waste any time in shedding my clothes to try it on, going to the mirror and taking in the beautiful color and cut. It's simply exquisite.
The cleavage area is a little too exposed for my liking, but the dress molds to my body, giving it some shape.
I look like a woman.
I'm amazed by this simple transformation. The dress is mid-thigh in length, and while I've never worn anything so short before, I know it is the fashion in big cities.
There's a pair of shoes too, but they are a tad too big.
Not wanting to seem ungrateful or whiny, I go to the bathroom and search for some gauze to stick to the front of the shoes so they won't slip out of my feet.
Maybe because I'm feeling more beautiful than I've ever felt before, but I'm suddenly giddy, and I can't wait for Enzo to see me in this. It is his present, after all.
A couple more hours pass, and I start seeing cars pull in the driveway from the window in the room.
I'm a little uncertain because more and more people are coming in, but no one's told me to come down yet.
When I'm finally at the end of my patience, Ana appears once more and invites me downstairs.
I will myself to walk straight, the shoes incredibly uncomfortable even with the stuffed material. We reach the bottom of the stairs and she shows me towards the ballroom.
A little disappointed that Enzo didn't come to get me himself, I push my chin up and step inside.
It takes me less than a second to realize everyone is staring at me — and why. All the women and the girls are wearing ankle-length dresses in muted tones, with a few daring convention to wear black. No one is showing any type of skin.
I catch Enzo's eye from across the room and he's scowling at me. Just a few strides and he's in front of me, taking me by the arm.
"What the fuck are you wearing? Have you gone mad?" He roars in my ear, his voice for my ears only.
"But..." I'm about to tell him that it's his fault, that he was the one who gave me the dress. But as my eyes move around the room, I'm met with the satisfied smile of Lucia and I realize I've been played.
All the humiliation I envisioned is already happening, and Lucia is gloating on the sidelines.
I should have questioned the package.
I'd been so enthralled with the dress — my first of the kind — that I hadn't stoppe
d for a second to think it might be a trap.
And now, as everyone stares at me accusatorily, I try not to slump my shoulders in defeat, nor to lower my head in shame.
"I like the dress." I tell Enzo with confidence. If I can't escape their scrutiny, I might as well wear my shame with pride. "It's a beautiful color."
"It also makes you look like a tramp. God, Allegra, where the hell did you get this?" His words are clipped, his eyes focused on my cleavage. "Go change. I won't have you walk around like this." His fingers bite in my arms but I push him off, plastering a nonexistent smile on my face.
"I'm already wearing it. And not everyone seems to dislike it." I raise an eyebrow at him, nodding towards the men looking at my body appreciatively.
"Yes, but only because they're wondering how easy it would be to get you to spread your legs." His fists are clenched around his side, but I ignore him, wading further into the crowd and planting myself in front of my mother-in-law.
"Thank you for the dress, Lucia. I truly feel like the guest of honor today." I say sweetly, and for a second her mask drops.
"Whatever do you mean, Allegra," she starts laughing, and the women next to her are all looking curiously.
"She must have told you to dress in pastels, right? She didn't want to steal my shine. I am, after all, the bride." I give them all a dazzling smile before excusing myself and walking back to find Enzo.
Even though I'd managed to have the last word in that particular confrontation, the evening is far from over.
As I pass by a group of girls my age, I can't help but overhear their conversation.
"So kitschy. I wonder where she got that, from Goodwill?"
"Maybe from the last decade," another one comments and they all laugh.
Taking a deep breath, I decide it's not worth my time nor effort. I'm almost back at the double doors when I spot Enzo. He's deep in conversation with someone. I take a step forward, but I'm shocked when the woman by his side turns a little, and I see the face of an angel.
I stop, rooted on the spot. The pair of them look ethereal. Enzo with his perfectly chiseled looks, and that woman with her sweet face. And I'm not the only one who thinks so, as people's gazes are drawn towards them, admiring the view.
I don't think it's often that two people this good looking are standing one next to another in the same room.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" A sly voice says from behind me. "This is what he gave up to marry you. Take a good look and see why he's never going to be yours. Not when his match in everything is but a step away."
I turn my head slightly and Rocco gives me a small nod. He motions for me to follow him until we reach Enzo's side.
"Gianna, this is my wife, Allegra." Enzo makes the introductions, and Gianna raises her chin slightly.
"Oh, Enzo, how quaint!" She exclaims in a fake feminine shrill. "Pleased to meet you, Allegra."
"Likewise," I reply, but because of my accent, the s sounds like a hard z. She releases a soft giggle.
"Son, Benedicto wants a word," Rocco takes Enzo aside, instructing Gianna to introduce me to her friends and make me feel more welcome.
As if.
I follow her to a group of girls, and all of them are dressed in varying shades of white and pink. I feel like a clown among them in my glaringly red dress. But as always, I don't let it show.
"Girls, this is Allegra, Enzo's new wife." Gianna starts, and they all burst into laughter.
"Tell us, what do you have over them?" Another girl, Maria, asks me.
"What do you mean?"
"You must have something over their heads, otherwise he would have never abandoned Gianna to marry you. I mean..." She steps back a little, looking back and forth between the two of us. "You're like miles apart... if you know what I mean." Another giggle.
"Nothing," I shrug, already looking for an opening to leave their clique.
"My papa told me about you. You should go back to your village, fuck a cow or something," she continues, and the laughter is getting louder.
"Sienna!" Giana makes a show of gasping and being scandalized.
"What, isn't that what they do in the countryside? Imagine if Enzo's baby ends up having fur." She says, proud of her logic.
I roll my eyes at her.
"A cow is female, first of all, and second, it's not biologically possible." I tilt my head to the side, looking at them.
"Are you speaking from experience?" Maria chortles, and the only one seemingly trying not to laugh is Gianna. But she already thinks she's so above everyone here.
"No. I'm speaking from books. You know, reading. You should try it sometimes." I turn my back to leave, but their words still reach my ears.
"Riiiiding," Maria mimics my pronunciation, mocking my accent. "I'm sure she's been riiiiding enough animals to know." I shake my head, leaving them behind to continue their ridicule. It's not as if I expected anything better.
But seeing how beautiful Gianna is, I simply can't fathom how Enzo could have ever thought to marry me over her, even with that danger looming over his head. She's just... stunning.
The urge to bury my head in the sand is almost too overwhelming, and I block everything out, my only goal to make it out of the ballroom. But as I put one foot in front of the other, I hear a snap.
I stop, horrified. My hands go immediately to my butt, and I feel the tear along the seam line.
No!
My eyes roam wildly around the room, wishing no one would notice. Then, I hurry towards the nearest restroom, hoping I can fix this somehow.
In the bathroom stall, I take out the dress and assess the damage. The tear is so deep that it doesn't seem just a fluke.
I'm not that big...
No, the dress fit my body perfectly. There's no way I could have strained it until it popped.
Lucia!
"Damn it all!" I grit my teeth in frustration, this being one too many humiliations on the same day.
I exit the stall, intent on going back to my room, when I bump into Gianna.
She looks at me up and down, a satisfied smile appearing on her face.
"Do you really think you can please him?" She asks me, the coy attitude from before all but gone. "Do you think you can keep up with his... appetites?" She smirks, the implication clear. "He's going to get bored with you quickly and guess where he'll come? It wouldn't be the first time."
Taking a step forward, she's getting too close into my personal space and it makes me uncomfortable. She wants to intimidate me — the poor village girl with the funky accent and gaudy dress. I'm the highlight of the show for them tonight, and I have no doubt that I'll continue to be the butt of their jokes for weeks to come.
"Really?" I drawl, the need to gain the upper hand eating at me. I move closer, my face barely hovering above hers. "Why don't you join us then? I'm sure Enzo wouldn't mind, and I can watch... and learn." I lean into her, taking a strand of hair between my fingers, trying to imitate Enzo's suave flirtation.
"Wh-what do you mean?" She stumbles over her words, her eyes widening.
"If you're so good, maybe I should try you for myself, no?" No sooner are the words out of my mouth than she pushes me off, running out of the bathroom.
Alone, at last, I collapse on the tiled floor, my breath ragged. I draw my knees to my chest and I burrow my head between them.
"Why me?" I ask softly, addressing the question to no one in particular, and to everyone.
What did I ever do to deserve so much hate?
IT'S LATE AT NIGHT when I feel Enzo sliding into bed next to me, keeping to his side so we're not touching. Mustering all the courage I can get, I start talking.
"I don't expect you to be faithful to me," I take a deep breath, "I know marriages for people like us aren't built on fidelity and love. But all I ask is that you don't embarrass me. Don't let me see, hear or smell them. You can fuck whoever you want. I really don't care. Just let me keep my dignity." After today, I don't even know if I have that anymore.
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But it's the one thing I'm willing to hold on to. I'm going to be fine, even if it kills me. It's a vow I made to myself and one that I will honor.
He doesn't speak for a moment.
"You really don't care?" He asks softly, his voice barely audible.
"I don't." I lie.
"Fine," he agrees, and for some reason that one word causes a dull ache in my heart. "Not that I needed your approval, but thank you. I'll be able to conduct my affairs with my mind at peace now," he adds drily.
"Good. Then I trust you won't bother me." I reply, tugging the duvet up my body and nestling inside its warmth.
"If that's what you want." And with that, our conversation ends.
No, it's not what I want. But it's what I'm going to get, regardless. It's better if I can at least have some modicum of control over it.
I'd known deep down that someone as striking as Enzo would be involved with countless of women, womanizing being a core attribute of the men of our world.
But staring directly into the face of one of his lovers, a face almost just as striking as his, I'd realized that I was just fooling myself thinking he might be different. I'd thought that because he hadn't touched me when he'd had plenty of opportunities before then it meant he was an honorable man not led around by his dick.
I was wrong.
It wasn't that he was honorable.
It was just that I was too unappealing to him.
Chapter Nine
THE ENTRANCE IS JUST as I remember — dark and shrouded in clouds of cigarette smoke. I give a nod to the outside guard and then I head inside, passing the loud noises coming from the rooms on the first floor. There are women in all states of déshabillé, and male grunts and groans permeate the air. The door to the right is open, showcasing an all-out orgy with countless participants. I keep my head down, and the regular girls know not to engage me in conversation.
I reach the last floor, and I knock softly. A ragged voice yells at me to enter, so I step inside. She's lounging on a red chaise oriented towards the windows, allowing for the sunlight to bathe her features.
She doesn't even turn to look at me, keeping only her profile — her good side — angled towards me.
Morally Decadent (Morally Questionable Book 3) Page 11
