Page 33 of Hidden Empire
I’d probably seen it a hundred times, and the girl’s outfits always stuck with me. I’m not a leather girl, but the other 2ooos era elements were fun to imagine on myself. And if the main character of the movie could afford it while struggling, I figured there could be a day when I could afford it, too.
Armani looked affronted by the “messy y2k” look I favored but didn’t expect me to pick something else. Instead, he asked more pointed questions to narrow down what I liked and what I loved. Now my closet at home is stuffed full of girly Coyote Ugly style outfits. Turns out, I really freaking like pink. It’s so pleasing to the eyes.
Most of what I wear is also a bit more modest than the girls in the movie. My cropped tops aren’t quite as cropped, and my dresses and skirts aren’t as hemmed either. Somewhat because of Armani being the one to source everything—protective as he is—but also because I get cold easily. I like the feel of clothes and how they sit on my body, so I’ll never shake my head at some extra fabric.
My fashion-snob of a brother considered my need for comfort when curating my home clothes. Oversized sweaters and soft pants with slippers are a must on a day when you don’t have to leave the house. Not that Armani would ever be caught dead in some of the basics he got me, which only makes the thought more meaningful.
Matteo, though, Matteo lives in sweatpants. Being at Empire, I think I’ll see him wearing more shirts than I did collectively all these past months at home. The man is a space heater, I swear. Sometimes he’ll touch my arm or something casual in passing, and it’s like a hot stone hitting ice.
“Hate to break it to you, sis, but I see your underwear like once a week when I help Martha fold clothes.” Matteo chuckles like I’m silly.
I grimace, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You just said you don’t do housework or make your bed, but you help Martha fold laundry?”
“That’s not housework,” he argues, affronted. “That’s just my bonding time with Martha. She won’t talk to me unless she’s getting work done, and I’m not a total dick. If I’m going to chat with her, I’m not going to watch her work alone.”
How can he be so wholesome and so unhinged at the same time? Wonders will never cease.
“We’ll show you my room tomorrow morning,” Armani cuts in, changing the topic. “Unless you want to come with us tonight?”
“No thanks,” I snort.
The boys will all be helping Armani get set up in his classroom—if you can call a gun range a classroom. I would so rather eat rocks than help Armani clean rifles ever again. Being taught once by him was one too many times. The man is a perfectionist when it comes to weapon safety, cleanliness, and handling. I’m pretty sure I made him cringe more on that day than he’s cringed throughout his entire life.
I will take an early night of sleep over gun cleaning any day of the week.
“Oh, I see how it is,” Matteo teases. “Leaving all the grunt work for us while you paint your nails and braid your hair.”
“My nails are already painted,” I tell him, flashing the light blue painted tips at him. “You did it, remember? Pretty sure the last time my hair was braided, you did that too.” I’m not sure why I say it like that, because I’m not just pretty sure, I’m certain.
No one ever taught me to do it, and when he caught me trying to learn with a YouTube tutorial on my phone, he brought in strips of leather and showed me how to practice. Once he showed me with the leather, he showed me with my actual hair. I didn’t take them out for three days since they meant so much to me, and I haven’t tried to recreate them since.
He huffs. “Well, you could invite me to stay and do it again. Armani might let me off the hook if you give him that pleading look you hav?—”
“Nope,” Armani interrupts, heading for the door. “You’re not getting out of shit. I’m checking on Remo and Nico. Get Jade settled and meet us over there; we’ll go to dinner together.”
Matteo groans, throwing his head back. “Fine, Father. We’ll meet you there, but you forgot to remind me to lock her door. You’re off your game.”
“You’d never forget to lock her door,” he calls back, already out of the room.
“What a jerk,” Matteo sighs. “Alright, let’s get you ready.”
I hide a laugh, biting my lip. “Cardigan or no cardigan?”
“No cardigan,” he answers immediately. “Dining halls are heated, and if you get cold, it’ll give me an opportunity to take this stupid fucking shirt off.”
I don’t remind him that he hasn’t ever needed an excuse to go shirtless before because I refuse to give this man any ideas.
“Sounds like a plan,” I say instead.
Full of juice from Armani’s pestering, I use the bathroom quickly and then let Matteo pull me into the hall, ready to tackle my first dinner here like a pro.
Chapter 11
Jade
Empire has two options for food. A big pantry-like room full of different snacks and small bites. And the dining hall, which is an even bigger room with four buffet-style sections to choose from each night. Matteo says there are typically a few different cuisines on rotation so there’s never any complaints. Everyone can always find something they’ll enjoy.
As a group, we go into the dining hall together. I’m nearly knocked off of my feet when my eyes meet a familiar face. My mystery man is leaving just as we’re coming in, and he’s not alone. Glued to his side is another man. He has a more youthful look and a smaller build than the big guy I ran into, but the two of them could be siblings.