Page 10

TEN

zina

W hile the private investigator works outside to find clues or evidence for me - I’ve been working inside, searching the estate, looking in every room and trying to find anything that can help.

Some of the doors are locked and I’m torn between forcing the open or coming back later after trying to find a key. It’s a careful balance between being caught in the act, and looking even more guilty, or playing it safe and having them beat me to it - finding fake evidence against me before I can find the real evidence.

I hurry down a long passage and again that creepy feeling makes my skin crawl.

Above me the camera slowly tracks my movements. It follows me, turning from left to right with the red light blinking constantly as I walk, narrowing my eyes at it.

Who is watching me?

Why have they been tracking me around the entire house today - and yesterday? I think it started maybe three days ago - but today whoever it is isn’t even trying to be subtle. At least before they were less obvious.

In defiance I stop exactly where I am and turn to glare at that ominous black lens. The light blinks. Red. Red. Red.

I stare for a long time, then with a spur-of-the-moment idea I bolt towards the security office. It’s literally around the corner from where I am in the mansion and I can easily get there and figure out who’s watching me.

I almost skid around the corner I’m running so fast and breathe a sigh of relief. No one is standing in the passage way or hurrying away - whoever has been watching me is still inside, sitting at the long white desk in front of the wall of monitors.

When I walk into the room, I do it with my head held high and my gaze set. I want them to know I’m not messing around. I’m going to demand they tell me what they’re up to.

Except - the door bursts open - I step inside - and find the room completely empty.

“What in the world - “ I mutter to myself, the fight draining out of me.

There wasn’t enough time for someone to escape.

This doesn’t make any sense.

I walk towards the computers and brush my fingers over the keyboard. The screens flicker with live footage of each camera.

A separate screen appears to be running a stream of information.

I watch it for a while, trying to figure out what it is.

It looks like it might be the access log, or record log for the entire system. When a house keeper walks past the camera in the kitchen, I note it on the live video, but then it also makes a written log of it on this separate screen.

Movement. Kitchen. 15:32.

Movement. Hallway 7. 15:32.

Movement. Patio. 15:32.

Movement. Living room 1. 15:33.

Each movement is recorded and my eyes dart to the corresponding video to confirm as someone walks past the camera.

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

“What are you doing?” A deep voice makes me jump. I spin to face the security officer who has walked into the room, holding a cup of coffee.

“Were you in here before?” I ask.

“Before what? I went to get a coffee. I’ve only been gone about ten minutes.” He says defensively.

I nod. “Never mind. Um. Enjoy your coffee.”

With slow steps, lost in thought, I head back to my bedroom.

What does this mean? If it wasn’t someone in the security office - who else has access to the cameras. Maybe his sons have the security app installed on their phones? Giovanni surely wouldn’t be watching me from his phone? What good would it do for the sons to watch me though - it seems like a total waste of time for them?

“Zina.” His voice is commanding and deep and it sends a thrill racing through me.

“Giovanni, did you need something?” I ask, turning to face him.

“We need to talk, now.” He snarls, grabbing my arm he drags me from the passage into his office. He pushes me hard and I stumble, only just managing to catch myself from falling.

“What are you doing - “ I squeal in fright and anger. He slams the office door behind himself and glares at me.

“What are you really doing here?” he snarls.

“What - “ I stammer. “You know what I’m doing here. We spoke about just the other night - for our son, Gio.”

He shakes his head and steps closer to me, looking down at me with a dark scowl. I push him hard against his chest, refusing to let him intimidate me. But he doesn’t budge.

“Explain this.” He says coldly, shoving his phone into my hand.

For a moment I don’t move. I just blink at him in disbelief.

I’m confused in so many ways I can hardly think.

The heat of his body against mine is not helping anything either and that dark, hungry look in his eyes is sending warmth between my legs.

“Look at the damn phone.” He growls and I flinch, lifting it up to see whatever he wants me to see.

A message.

Unknown: you have a traitor in your midst. She wears a crown as though she is your queen, but she’s there to tear you down from the inside out. Beware the woman who smiles so sweetly.

I squint at the message in confusion. “What is this?” I mutter, reading it again.

“It’s a message. And it’s obviously about you. A clear warning not to trust you.” He says roughly as he grabs his phone back.

I shake my head. “Giovanni, I don’t know what they’re talking about. Who sent it? Whose number is that?”

“The number is hidden. What difference does it make? Someone is trying to warn me about whatever it is you’re up to.”

“But I’m not up to anything.” I huff in annoyance.

He stares at me with his jaw set.

“Stop doing that.” I snap, pushing him again, trying to create some space between us so that I can think clearly.

“I’m not ignoring this.” He says, gesturing towards his phone.

“Oh - what? You’re going to believe some coward who doesn’t even want to reveal who they are - instead of trusting me?” I say in defensive. “If it was a message from someone you knew I wouldn’t blame you for being wary - but this asshole isn’t even showing their face. Why would believe it?”

He sneers, pulling his mouth tight as he turns away from me. I sigh in relief to have some room to breathe.

“Giovanni, something is going on here.” I sigh again. “I’ve noticed strange things happening.”

“Mm.” He huffs, reluctant to hear me out. “What strange things?” he mutters, annoyed.

“Someone is watching me.”

“What?” he snaps, rolling his eyes. “No one is watching you, Zina.”

“Someone is. When I walk around the estate the camera’s move to track me. They follow my movements everywhere I go. Someone is watching me.” I insist.

He shakes his head.

“The guards would only be doing that if I gave them instructions to do it. And I certainly didn’t. Although - after this warning, perhaps it’s something I should do.”

“For fuck sakes, Giovanni. Listen to me. I’m not crazy. I’m not imagining the camera’s tracking me. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“There is no one in this house watching you, Zina. No one cares where you go and what you do.” He snaps. His eyes are shooting into me like steel rods. The way he’s looking at me, as though I’m the enemy, as though there is hate in his heart - it reminds me of the day he broke my heart.

I was twenty-one, completely in love - madly, crazy in love. And he was looking at me just like that. His words are still crystal clear in my memory. “You need to stay away from me and stay away from my family.”

I argued with him. “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me close so that the heat of his breath brushed over my face. “I never want to see you again, Zina. You are nothing to me. Nothing. Is that clear?”

I shake my head to get rid of the memory. It was a long time ago, but it still shatters my heart when I think about it. It was the most brutal rejection. Only a day before, we were lying on the grass near the harbor with my head resting on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around me. Just one day before - he told me he wanted to be with me forever. That no one would ever tear us apart. He told me we were meant to be together.

My heart is racing, each beat is a pulse of agony as I try to let go of the memory. It’ll always haunt me, like it has for years. Sometimes it makes me angry. Sometimes it makes me cry.

Two days after he rejected me I found out I was pregnant. I fought with myself, at war with my heart and my mind, deciding whether or not to tell him. I wanted to get revenge against what he’d done to me. His cruelty.

But I couldn’t. When I watched him with his sons and his wife - I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tear a family apart and hurt Bella - it wasn’t her fault he’d made promises to me.

And the truth was that I still loved him. I still had hope that he’d change his mind and I didn’t want to do anything to risk ruining that.

Of course, during my pregnancy and after my son was born - I fell in love with being a mother. The pain left over from Giovanni was still there, but I was able to ignore it most of the time.

Outside the office, a sound comes from the hallway and both Giovanni and I turn towards it.

Laughter.

It’s such a strange sound to hear in the house lately. Tensions are so high, and nothing seems to be going right. Laughter seems out of place.

Giovanni walks towards the door and tugs it open, peering through it.

“What is it?” I whisper, standing at his side to see as well.

Down the hallway, walking away from us, Guido and Dante are walking side by side, carrying a pizza, laughing and joking about people who are stupid enough to put pineapple on pizza. “Let’s go to the sunroom upstairs. It’s got a great view.” Dante says, turning off and gesturing for Guido to follow.

“Good idea.” Guido says.

I knot my brows in disbelief. Both Giovanni and I step back into the office.

“They’re getting on really well.” I say, more to myself than him.

“Ye, Dante was asking me about his brother the other day. He’s a good kid.” He sighs, pressing his fingers into his eyes.

“What was he asking?” I ask.

“He’s the youngest, you know, and I think he was angry at himself for just blindly following his older brother’s lead. He never wanted to push Guido away. I’m glad he finally found the confidence to do what he feels is right. Older brothers can be very influential on the younger ones.” He shrugs.

I smile, my heart warming. At least something good is happening. Finally. Guido has a friend in this place and that, despite everything else, is enough to make me really happy.

But I still have to deal with the issue at hand.

Turn to face Gio and try again to get to the bottom of this issue with the cameras. There has to be a way to see who logs in when and where they log in from. If we can get to the bottom of it - if it is Santino or Romeo spying on me - at least I’ll know, and I can put it down to more of their stupid tricks. But if it isn’t them, then I’m worried that someone else has access to the cameras - someone who shouldn’t have. And that is a danger that Giovanni can’t ignore.