Page 15 of Enduring Caine
“No.” She hadn’t spoken to me or our escort the entire walk to her room. Only gave me the tiniest peck on the cheek and a whisperedI love you, before locking the door behind her. “But what time is breakfast?”
“Ten o’clock.”
She ran a hand over her face, the sign she was frustrated. “I’ll need something earlier than that.”
Henri nodded. “We can arrange it, but I’m heading into town around seven to purchase ingredients, so it will be after I return.”
“Antonio told me there’s an excellent bakery in town. Do you mind if I tag along?”
Cristian spoke up. “I’ll have one of the men escort you.”
The corners of Samantha’s mouth turned down as her face tilted toward my cousin. “I don’t need an escort.”
“I’ll go with you, bella.”
“Ahm, no,” said Cristian, in much the same way he’d informed us we wouldn’t be sharing a bedroom. “You can go with her, but one of the men will join you.”
Despite the tension, Henri continued to smile. “You’ll barely notice them. I’m still escorted everywhere I go outside the estate.”
Samantha’s frown found Henri. “Wonderful. All I need is to be here a year in order to be allowed to walk from one room to another on my own.”
“Amore…”
“If you’ll excuse me.” Henri gave a slight bow as he zipped his bag before leaving.
“This separate room thing is ridiculous.” Samantha’s look fell to me next, easing from a full-on glower to mere irritation. She left her doorway and approached me, her hand whispering across my bandages. “You’re supposed to see a doctor about this.”
Cristian cocked his head to see the spot where she’d stopped tracing, at the edge of the red bloom. “We have a doctor on staff.”
I waved my hand, brushing their concerns away. My surgeon had prescribed fourteen days’ worth of painkillers and I simply needed to replace my bandage. “My follow-up is in a week. We’ll be in Napoli by then.” Hopefully.
Her hand rose and brushed across my cheek. Quite unlike herself, Samantha stepped closer to me, touching her lips to mine. The fresh, citrusy scent of her, the touch of her warm body as she kissed me, the soft sigh that escaped her when we parted—I wrapped my good arm around her, not wanting the connection to end.
But she backed away, the frown resuming for Cristian. “Good night.”
Once she was in her room, I let out a long breath. “Cristian, she and I were through hell only days ago. Why this silly rule to separate us when we need each other?”
He tightened his lips. “I can’t tell you everything—Papa wants to save it for tomorrow. But, the truth is, he had a stroke a couple of years ago.”
My stomach twisted, a wave of unexpected regret shooting through me. “I never heard that.”
“Of course not. He’s not spoken to your father or Zio Andrea in years. This rift between them…” He looked heavenward, shaking his head. “You saw Cesca at dinner? How excited she was to see you again? She was, what, five when you saw her last?”
“Sì, it’s a sin she’s a stranger to so many of her relatives.”
He nodded. “Papa received excellent care, but a few hours afterward, he had a heart attack.”
“Marone, seriously?”
“He died on the table. Ten minutes he was gone. And he swears upon all that is holy that he met Saint Peter.”
Near-death experiences could change a person—it was what inspired me to leave this life behind. But actual death?
“They conversed before the gates to Heaven, where Papa was denied entry. Saint Peter told him he was living his life in direct opposition to everything it would take to get inside.”
When I’d seen Cristian in September during Samantha’s visit, he’d mentioned that Zio Giovanni was changing business models. He wouldn’t explain, and it made no sense at the time, but now it did. “And tomorrow he’s going to show me how he’s shifting the business?”
“Exactly.” Cristian inclined his head toward Samantha’s room. “And this is why your girlfriend can’t come with us.”