Page 38 of Vicious Temptation
I shake my head. “I think it’s kind of open-ended.” Just saying it out loud, the impermanence of it, makes my stomach twist. “I think at first he just wanted to see if I liked the job at all. If I would be able to settle in alright. And then after that—I guess a lot of it depends on my father. Ultimately, if he says he wants me to come home, I have to. Otherwise, he’ll cut me off, and—” I shrug. “I don’t really know what I’d do then. We’d be right back to where I was, the last time we talked about this.”
“But you work for Gabriel,” Clara points out. “You already said he was sympathetic to your whole situation, right? So what if your dad orders you home before Gabriel wants you to stop working for him? Couldn’t he just pay you directly, then, if your dad cut you off?”
I bite my lip. Truthfully, I hadn’t thought about that. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that I could work out something separately with Gabriel, if the day came when my father wanted me to leave, and Gabriel still wanted me to stay. The thought of taking that much control of the situation, of taking that much risk, scares me more than a little. But I tuck the idea away, because it feels like the smallest sliver of a possibility. Like something that could work, if and when the time comes.
“It’s worth thinking about,” I say slowly. “I don’t know if it’s that simple. But it’s a possibility, for sure.”
We relax in the living room until Cecelia and Danny are done with their naps, chatting about Clara’s job and what she’s been up to in the city. I show her the movie room once we collect the two children, which she absolutely loves, and we settle in to watch one of the list of nature documentaries that Cecelia and Danny have said they wanted to see.
Gabriel isn’t home yet when it’s over, so we go hang out in the living room while we wait for him. Clara and I are sitting on the loveseat talking, while Cecelia and Danny read, when I hear the sound of footsteps coming into the living room.
I know it’s Gabriel. My heart does a little flip in my chest, a feeling that I absolutely do not want to examine more closely. I turn to look at him, intending to introduce Clara.
My heart drops when I see the look on his face. His mouth is set in a thin line, his jaw tight, and he looks pissed. Not curious or even slightly annoyed, but angry. He crosses his arms over his chest, and I feel my stomach go queasy as his frown deepens.
“Bella, what the hell is going on?” His voice is sharp, ringing through the room, and both Cecelia and Danny freeze halfway through jumping up to run to him. They sink back down to the floor, glancing at each other uneasily, as though they’re not sure why he’s so mad.
“I—” My throat feels like it’s closing up. “This is Clara. I told you about her before—she’s my best friend. I had asked her if she wanted to come over for the afternoon, just to hang out while I was watching Cecelia and Danny?—”
I trail off, because it doesn’t seem like my explanation is helping. If anything, it just seems like it’s going to make things worse. Like every word I say is making him angrier.
“You had a stranger come over to the house without asking first?” His voice is sharp as a knife, anger lacing every word. I feel myself stiffening, my mind starting to feel slow and muddled, fear cramping my stomach and chest as I physically react to the sound of an angry male voice directed at me.
“Cecelia, Danny, go find Agnes.” Gabriel glances at them, his voice softening marginally. He looks up at Clara, who looks painfully uncomfortable. “I’d appreciate it if you’d head out, now. I have a driver who can take you home if?—”
“Already calling an Uber.” She waves her phone, a forced smile on her face. “Sorry about this, Mr. Esposito. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Clara glances at me. “See you soon, Bel,” she murmurs, and gets up, hurrying out of the room to wait for her Uber. I can’t blame her—to me, at least, Gabriel’s anger feels like a physical thing. I try to fight through the reaction to it, trying to figure out if he’s really as angry as he seems or if I’m overreacting, but I can’t focus my thoughts.
“I appreciate that I’ve made it clear that you’re a part of the family in this household, Bella, but this is still a job,” Gabriel continues. “You should have cleared it with me before inviting anyone over. I would have liked to meet Clara personally before she was around my children.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I know her really well, I have for a long time, so I didn’t think?—”
“You didn’t think. Correct. I’m sure you know her perfectly well, but I don’t, and therein lies the problem.” Gabriel’s voice hardens. “I expect that this won’t happen again. If you want her to be here in the future, I want to meet her myself, first.”
I nod, my throat so tight that I feel sure I’m about to burst into tears. My hands are shaking, and I can feel myself flinching with each word, recoiling as if from a physical blow. The panic is spreading through me, and I need to get away, get upstairs before Gabriel realizes just how bad this is. Just how close I am to unraveling.
“I’m sorry,” I manage again. “I won’t—it won’t happen again.” I scramble up from the couch, waiting for Gabriel to keep talking, to say something, or tell me not to leave yet, but he says nothing. I back away, my panic flaring as I realize I have to go around him to leave the room. It’s not as if he’s ever hurt me, or I ever think he would, but my mind can’t seem to separate him from those who have hurt me right now. I can’t seem to think straight.
“I—” I can’t think of anything else to say. I dart around him, biting my lip so hard that I taste blood, trying not to cry until I get out of the room. I rush for the stairs, up to my bedroom, glad that I don’t see Agnes or the kids on the way there. I run all the way up to my room, flinging myself inside and closing the door, and then the tears start to come.
He’s going to fire me. He’s angry with me. He’s so angry—I don’t even know if he is as angry as I think he is. My mind feels tangled, the fear bleeding through all of my thoughts and emotions until I don’t entirely know what’s real and what isn’t, my heart beating so hard it hurts. I squeeze my hands into fists, feeling my nails bite into my palms, pressing them against my mouth as I sink to the floor and start to sob.
I’m not sure how long I sit there for, crying. I know there’s no way I’m going down for dinner. I end up changing into a pair of lounge pants and a soft sweater, curling up in bed with a book, but I can’t focus. When I hear a knock at my door, I nearly jump out of my skin, pressing my knuckles to my mouth to stifle a gasp.
“Bella?” Gabriel calls out from the other side. “Are you going to come down tonight for dinner? Agnes needs to know whether to set a place for you or not.”
He doesn’t sound angry, just tired. But the sound of his voice sends another flood of panic through me, which only builds on itself—am I just going to be afraid of him, now? One argument, and everything is ruined? Did I fuck everything up with one mistake?
“No,” I whisper, my voice cracking. I clear my throat, repeating it a little louder. “No,” I manage. “I’m sorry. I have a headache. I’m just going to go to bed early.”
“Alright, then.” I think I detect a note of disappointment in Gabriel’s voice, but I can’t be sure.
I hear him walking away, and my shoulders relax, just a little. But the dread of how things are going to be tomorrow stays, lingering as I shower and get ready for bed. When I slide under the covers, I reach for my pill bottle, turning it over in my hand. After what happened today, I’m even more afraid of what’s going to happen when I go to sleep. I’m going to have nightmares, I feel sure of it. And if it disturbs Gabriel?—
I close my eyes tightly, trying not to think of the possibility of being sent back home, of the marriage that will be almost immediately waiting for me if I am. But the fear winds its way through me, keeping me awake until my racing heart and thoughts finally make me so exhausted that I drift off.
I’m walking down the aisle. Pyotr is standing there, waiting for me, and there’s a look of satisfaction on his face that I don’t fully understand. But I was told that this marriage was to make up for him being ‘cheated’ out of his marriage to Gia D’Amelio, my cousin, so maybe the satisfaction is that he’s still marrying a mafia daughter. A lower-ranking one, but still?—