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“Never. He’s pathetic and he’s definitely not right for you,” she says heartily. “You need a man like Valentino, and I’m glad you?—”
“He’s a killer?” I regret saying the words as soon as they slip out, but I can’t take them back. Truth is Valentino may be a killer, but he has a much bigger heart than I thought.
“Yes. He is a killer,” Louisa agrees decisively. “But whether you like it or not, you are a Barbieri. The Barbieri family may no longer be in its glory days, but there are still people out there looking to kill you. You don’t need a mama’s boy who will run at the first sound of a gunshot. You need a man like Valentino who will kill for you and drink the blood of your enemies.”
Louisa’s words chill me, but she is also right. With Valentino, I feel protected, and I can be sure my family is too. There’s a knock on my room door.
“Hang on,” I say into the phone and go to open it.
“Good afternoon, Signora,” a woman with a sunburned face, says in Italian. By her broad accent, I assume she works for the family, probably in the kitchen or garden. “There’s someone downstairs to see you-”
“Valentino is not here,” I tell her in my rusty Italian. “Tell them to return later.”
“It’s a woman,” she says. “And she’s asking for you.”
“For me?” I frown.
“Yes, Signora.”
It occurs to me that it could be Freya or any of the other wives of the family. They did promise to visit. “Ask her to wait in the living room and I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
The woman nods and leaves.
“I’ll call you back, Louisa. There’s someone here to see me.”
“Okay. Bye.”
With Louisa gone, I get out of the fluffy toweling robe, change quickly into a simple sundress, and head downstairs. As soon as I enter the living room door the scent of strong perfume hits me. The smell is vaguely familiar, but the woman standing in front of a glorious painting of an ancient Italian god is not. I pause for a second, my forehead creasing, trying to remember where I have encountered the fragrance before. When the memory will not come, I walk towards her curiously.
At the sound of my footsteps, she turns to face me. I’m blown away by how gorgeous and expensive she looks. She’s wearing a luxurious, beautifully cut designer dress. She smiles at me and I take an instant dislike to her. Something about her makes my skin crawl.
“Hello, Francesca.”
“Signora Barone to you. I don’t know who you are.”
“Signore Barone,” she repeats and laughs like I’ve just told a joke. “That does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
“I’m afraid I’m going to walk you out now,” I tell her.
“Don’t worry, I’ll leave soon.” She walks towards me. “There’s no need for bad blood between us. I’m only here to tell you that I’m in love with Valentino too.”
I recoil as if she has slapped me. “What?”
She shrugs elegantly, but her eyes glitter with malice and satisfaction. She knows she has hurt me. “I understand that he had to marry you for that cursed piece of land, but it’s not fair that you have the ring when you clearly do not know how to keep him satisfied. He has to fuck me for that.”
“I don’t believe you.” I shake my head, remembering Valentino saying he hadn’t slept with anyone since marrying me. “Valentino has been with me all this time. He doesn’t have time for desperate women like you.”
“All this time,” she mocks spitefully. “Except… maybe… on your wedding night, hmm?”
Suddenly, it clicks. The perfume. The reason I recognize it is because I’ve scented it before. On my husband. On our wedding night. This bitch in front of me may be a tramp, but she isn’t a liar.
“Get out of my house,” I screech.
“So sorry to hurt your feelings.” She slides her sunglasses back on and flips her glamorous hair back. “But if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave Valentino to me. Only I know how to make him purr. You haven’t heard that, have you? When he’s truly satisfied he purrs like a cat. It’s the most amazingly sweet sound.”
Then she walks out of the room, leaving me alone.
I stand frozen in the same position for many minutes, struggling not to cry. I’m not in love with Valentino. That’s clear. I love Thomas. So why does this hurt so much? Why does it feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest and torn to bloody shreds?