Page 47 of His Vicious Vow

I get the warning she’s pulled up outside and turn my phone to silent and go into the smaller bedroom. I’m aware there’s every chance she’ll find me. I should go across the hall. Only I couldn’t leave her. Despite my thinking of waiting until she’s ready, a part of me just wants this over and her in my bed yesterday—so I’m not going to

Her inspection of the place is negligible at best. I’m relieved she went into the larger bedroom with the attached bath first and leaves her small suitcase in the room. She’s gone again. I give her until she’s on the street before I follow.

I keep back until I see her at the end of the street. I watch as she sits down with a cone of gelato she’s barely paying attention to. She’s lost in thought, not seeing the scene in front of her.

It hits me. She didn’t plan this. Carina had no idea what Celia planned. And she was too embarrassed to admit she didn’t want to leave.

Anger flares through me, this fucking woman. I swear to god. Will she cut off her nose to spite her face?

Following her back to the flat. I wait until she goes up before I follow her but go into the flat across from hers. Once I’m inside, I log into the cameras I put throughout the place. I find she’s already taking a shower and decide to go in while she can’t hear me entering over the noise.

I’m in and waiting in the extra room when she gets out of the shower. I watch her on the cameras. I’m angry all over again at the lack of clothes she has. She really is shit at taking care of herself.

Watching as she figures out that she doesn’t have a dryer and how blissfully unaware she is at how food appeared it’s not easy to stay where I am and not spank her ass red.

I wonder how the hell I’m here. On the floor watching my woman on cameras instead of confronting her. But I promised Tony and her mother that I’d take care of her. And right now Carina isn’t ready for confrontation and being an adult. She’s been an adult for so long she needs to get the kid out of her system. I might be crazy but I believe Carina knows she needs me as much as I need her.

So if I need to lay on the floor for a few nights until Carina comes to terms with it, I will. Me yelling, begging, or pleading with Carina is not going to do either of us any good. She has to decide for herself. I also have to be right here, if I give her too long to think she’ll talk herself out of it again.

Her whimper of my name catches my attention. It doesn’t matter it could blow everything up, she called out for me—I can’t ignore her.

I go into the bedroom where Carina is sniffling in her sleep. I lay down on the bed. Wincing at how the bed isn’t a whole lot softer than the floor I breathe deep at being back in a bed with Carina. Her little sigh reaches across the bed to me. Everything in me freezes when she reaches for me. Even in her sleep she feels me, knows I’m here. I catch her close. She snuggles into my chest. I fight not to crush her to me, holding her loosely simply grateful to at last have her back in my arms.

* * *

Carina

I’m out of the flat and onto the street less than a half hour after I wake up. The walls are closing in, I tell myself it’s waking up in a strange room, a strange country. Not that I’m wondering what Sandro is doing. Because he has to know by now. There’s no way for him not to be aware. Carlo might have tried to cover it up in the beginning but Carlo has to have given up on getting me back immediately so…seconds later I was tripping down the stairs and out of the building.

Awe fills me as I enter the church. In all my life I don’t know that I’ve ever seen such perfection. When I come out of the building an hour later I’m still struck by an awe that has me wondering how people can even hope to describe it.

I find myself wandering the street following the map to take me to the Uffizi. Oh wow. I’m in a square where the fountain had to be commissioned by someone who so wishes but no way in hell—on second thought Sandro was bigger so maybe…

The ticket I purchased online yesterday I’m told lessened my time in line but I’m still standing in line for a half hour. I’d hate to think of what it would be like without it. My temper is slowly slipping as I climb down then up again where in the fuck am I going?

Oh wow. Holy shit. The art I’m encountering is where I finally understand the word master. Michelangelo, Da Vinci, Caravaggio, Botticelli. I don’t think I close my mouth for the next three hours.

By then end my freaking stomach is hurting I’m so hungry. Giving in, I go back to the square where there are a ton of restaurants. They’re the kind of places no one who lives in Florence would be caught dead. But I’m starving and just once won’t be so bad.

The food is really good. I get an order of linguine and clams for dinner. I don’t want to have to worry about it later.

Walking back I get turned around. I was sure I wouldn’t need the map but I’m quickly lost. Before my fear kicks in I find myself in front of a dress shop. In the window is a white wedding dress I can’t walk away from. It’s exactly the kind of dress my mother would roll her eyes at. There are dreamy sleeves long and flowy, the skirt is too big for me. I would be swallowed up in the dress. But it’s so pretty.

Something in the glass shifts. “Sandro?” I turn to find where Sandro should be behind me. Except he’s not there. I keep going, sure I saw him. But no Sandro. Embarrassed, I shake my head. How sad am I? Of course Sandro isn’t here. I’m sure he’s in Vegas going through his phone trying to figure out which woman will replace me.

Brushing the tears that have fallen without my permission I catch sight of the street corner I came down. I make it back to the flat without getting turned around again and without any more tears.

Putting the linguine and clams in the refrigerator I grab a water and drink almost half of it standing in front of the fridge. The television is still on, I haven’t turned it off. I’m grateful for the noise. I bring the water with me into the bedroom.

Mind on autopilot I get undressed and take a shower. I get ready for bed. My hair is wet and looks awful as I get into bed. It doesn’t matter it’s barely eight o’clock, I can’t stay awake because everytime I close my eyes I see me wearing the dress in the window. Except I know it will never happen as the moment I saw the dress it hit me that I wanted to wear it while marrying Sandro. And that won’t happen and if I can’t have Sandro then I will never marry someone else.

* * *

Sandro

The next few days are not easy. I’m starving, tired, and my patience is growing thin. Yet every time I begin to get annoyed, Carina gives me hope. She cannot sleep well unless I sleep beside her in bed. All of her day is spent out, I trail after from church to church, the Pitti Palace, a history museum and back to the Uffizi. The only time she goes back to the apartment is to sleep. She also goes to visit her wedding dress at least twice, sometimes three times a day.

On the fourth day after I get caught on a call with Gaetano and miss Carina leaving the café where she is having breakfast. Frustration sends me back to the apartment across from hers with both of Valdez’s men watching over her. Maybe more than four hours of sleep is necessary after all.