Chapter Sixteen - Where In Rome
"You'll be careful, won't you?" My mother pleaded as I stood by the door with my suitcase and disgrace.
"Mum, it's only a week, I'll be fine, please don't worry," I repeated for the third time that minute, knowing deep down just how pointless the request truly was. She was a mother, through and through; she couldn't help but fret over her children.
"It's just, you've never been abroad on your own before-"
"Mum, I won't be alone. I'm going with my boss. He's flying me out there, I'll be staying in the holiday home he owns, and I'll be working the whole time. Literally everything has been planned for me, so just relax. You need to focus on yourself now." My appeal held a note of pure desperation as her tired, aching eyes bore right into my soul.
Ever since the horrid night of my confession, I'd been lambasting my wretched luck while wringing my hands over what the week would bring. She was already so ill; fair skin tinted a sickly ailing grey, her kind, motherly face sunken with dark haunting shadows. Even her smile was tired, forced, as she no doubt anguished over every possible outcome of her next chemotherapy.
And I anguished right alongside her. As per Mr Black's promise, she was receiving superior treatment from some of the finest medical minds in the city, but mistakes could always happen. The last round was so rough, she'd been barely competent. She couldn't walk, couldn't talk, could barely breathe. But back then, she had me looking after her. Now...
She'd been wearing a brave face, courageously smiling through this whole miserable arrangement. Behaving understanding and trying to play peacekeeper between me and my stubborn, single-minded brother, but she was my mother, and I could tell better than anyone she was trying to mask her fear. So we'd both shared our share of sleepless nights, both fearful of what the daunting week would hold, yet too afraid to burden our fears upon each other. I could hardly stand to think...
A loud blaring horn snatched me from my pity.
"Well, that's my cue," I muttered, wanting nothing more than to slam my bags down in protest and refuse to leave from where I was needed most. But I was a coward.
"Seth, come say goodbye to your brother!" Mum called, to absolutely no reply. Not that I felt I deserved one.
"Seth!"
"Mum, it's okay," I sighed halfheartedly, knowing Seth had every right to be angry. He hadn't so much as looked my way since I'd shared the unfortunate news, and truthfully, I didn't blame him. I hated myself just as much as he did.
"Edward..." She began sadly, when another, more persistent horn blasted just outside the house.
"How rude."
A light chuckle tore from my quivering lips as I tried my hardest not to bawl all over her.
"Yeah, he is. I'll see you in a week, okay? Take care, and call me as often as you can," I commanded gently, before fleeing from the house as fast as I could go.
"Took you long enough." Were Michael's only words of greeting.
The ride to the airport was silent, and for once I was grateful for the man's monosyllabism; I didn't think I had the stomach to fill the space with meaningless conversation.
Mum would be okay. She had to be, because if she wasn't, who would look after her? Seth was mature for his age, but he wasn't an adult, he couldn't make medical decisions if something went wrong. I was the only one, and yet I'd be miles away in another country while the person I loved most was at her most vulnerable. Since the night I told them, there hadn't been a night without fantasies of marching into Mr Black's office and announcing exactly where he could shove this mandatory 'vacation.' But that's exactly what they always were; fantasies. In this instance, I was helpless.
I had thought, with Mr Black's status, there was every chance he and Bella would be flying first class. I, of course, hadn't dared expect the same, anticipating hours of crying babies and squished knees. But as the car pulled into the parking lot and around the airport, I did not anticipate what was sitting on the tarmac before me.
It was sleek and modern. A pure opaque white, with tinted windows, a sharp strong nose and chic, stylish wings. The tale and engines were coated with thick dark paint, melding into a stripe that surrounded the plane before effortlessly blending into two bold eloquently crafted words: Black Incorporated.
He had a jet. A mother-fricken private jet.
My shameless gawking was disrupted by a sharp pain kicking right in the gut.
"Get your shit, Cullen, I'm not your maid!" Micheal grunted impatiently before stomping up the ramp into the plane without a backwards glance. Flushing red, I picked my suitcase off the ground and followed.
The jet was amazing. Large, comfy dark grey leather seats popped from flawlessly white walls. A spotless pale carpet adorned the floor while an impressive sleek sofa curved around a cool slate table. A giant television built into the cockpit wall sat opposite, along with a mini-fridge and ample cocktail bar. Several doors even revealed a bathroom and small bedroom. Everything looked stunning and luxurious.
In a daze, I copied Micheal's lead, quickly tucking my luggage away before taking a seat opposite his own. The way he moved made it clear he was no stranger to this. I supposed, working for a demanding billionaire did have some perks after all.
All that remained was the billionaire himself.
We didn't have to wait long. Micheal barely had time to skim the front page of the daily newspaper before Mr Black entered the plane, the lovely Isabella in tow.
Except, something was off.
I didn't mean to stare. I knew the consequences of such, especially with the boss standing right there beside her, but as my charge kept her head down and hurried to a seat beside the adjacent window, I just couldn't help but notice...
Her eyes were red. Puffy and constricted. She was paler than usual, and her natural sweet cotton-candy blush was tainted a dark, rather unpleasant crimson. I frowned. She'd been crying.
Did they have another fight? I was guessing she was just as reluctant to be on this trip as when she was first told, but I still didn't know why. She hadn't been very talkative over the course of the week; not even the food bank brothers were able to cheer her completely. I hated that she was so unhappy. She appeared just as tired and resigned to this 'vacation' as I was, and the man who was inflicting this torment on the pair of us looked just as superior and controlled as always. I sighed. This was going to be a long ride.
Take off was uneventful, and I played on my phone for most of the journey while subtly glaring at an oblivious Micheal. The smug bastard laid opposite me, newspaper over his face and feet reclined as though he hadn't a care in the world. I envied him. I was tired, exhausted even, from many, many nights of restless fears, but I couldn't sleep. The anxiety from this morning still weighed heavily on my stomach, keeping me bound like an anchor to a ship. That, and the fact, I was nowhere near confident enough around the boss to be that relaxed.
Yet it appeared I was the only one. Casting my eyes for some kind of distraction I saw Bella, too, had fallen into slumber. Curled into a ball with her book hanging limply to one side and her head resting askew on the arm of the cushy leather chair, she appeared... uncomfortable. Like she was making an effort to be as small and compact as possible. Mr Black would look her way every so often, and when he saw her eyes were closed, did he set his paper down, stand and switch off the little light shining directly above her head. I stared inconspicuously as he then stooped, effortlessly picked her up and sat back down in one fluid motion, careful not to justle her, laying her comfortably over his chest.
And at that moment, I thought I was seeing something rarer than bigfoot.
He appeared almost vulnerable as he gazed at the girl, dark eyes tinted with the slightest hint of warmth, a small half-smile tipping the corners of his strict, rigid lips, his whole body conforming to hers as she sleepily rubbed her face into his shirt, her little nose scrunching adorably as she released a small, sweet sigh.
It was funny. In moments such as this, it was challenging to remember the predicament the poor girl was in. Any stranger observing this scene would see nothing but a loving couple. The way he doted on her and the way she subconsciously curled into him, it was indeed difficult to recall just how much she disliked the man.
And it was also difficult to believe, that despite her hatred, her mistrust and her fear; this one small girl was the only girl who could calm the beast.
When the plane finally landed, Mr Black carried the sleeping Bella to the awaiting car while Micheal and I handled the bags. And as the driver sped through the twinkling city, awake with a thousand shimmering lights, I found myself blocking out the men's meaningless chatter, nose pressed tight against the armoured glass.
This was Rome. A city I had visited in a hundred wild fantasies. It had always been my hope to one day walk these streets, learn its culture, bask in its history... so why did I feel so damn empty?
We drove far past the glittering metropolis, up winding hills surrounded by woods vastly similar to Mr Black's mansion. Every few minutes, there were more men with guns, it was clear Mr Black had prepared for his arrival, but I was not at all prepared for what lay behind that gilded gate.
It was something out of a fairy-tale. The two-story cottage of dark wood and stone engulfed in vines and foliage shone like a beckon in the middle of twilight. It was gorgeous, with a spiral pointed pale brick roof, a charming faded red door, an actual jutted stone chimney churning out wisps of welcoming smoke and a glorious garden surrounding everything the eye could see, flourishing with flowers and plants of every shape and colour. It was like a dream. Everywhere you looked there were blossoms and blooms, petite brick ponds, antique birdbaths, fairy lights decorating every tall enwreathing tree, and a winding, charming stepping stone path leading to a smaller wooden cabin resting right behind the house. It was so inviting. So picturesque. So... not Jacob Black.
It wasn't as though I knew him well, but he was a man of wealth, grandeur. The jet we'd travelled here in was a prime example of this. It was powerful, luxurious, obnoxious; the boss all over. This place... this place was like a child from someone else's imagination. And I wasn't the only one who seemed to think so.
Bella stood gaping in a sleepy daze, head resting against Mr Black's chest while her wide brown eyes swam with disbelief and her mouth contorted in awe. Wrapping her snuggly in his arms, the amused man leaned down to whisper something in her ear. I took a step towards them, almost instinctively, when a rough hand yanked the back of my shirt.
"This way Cullen, you're bunking with me."
Micheal, why do you hate me?
The cabin was rustic. With large logs for walls and giant colourful rugs covering almost every inch of the aged splintered floorboards. Yet despite its slightly ragged appearance, warmth emanated from the home like steam from freshly baked bread. Family photos hung on each rough protruding nail and endearing little nick-nacks decorated every available surface. It was small, but incredibly vibrant. I could tell that whoever owned this home, owned it with love.
"This place belongs to the caretaker Jia and his son Buoxord, so be respectful and don't touch shit that isn't yours. You're responsible for cooking your own meals and cleaning your own messes, no one's gonna play mummy here." Micheal rather brashly explained as we walked through the hall, stopping before a single wooden door with a plaque that read 'Guest Room'.
We were met with a tiny cubby; two single beds, a bedside table, a whitewashed dresser and a lamp. There was nothing more.
Micheal pulled a face at our rather simple surroundings, but honestly, I'd slept in worse. The tiny apartment my family had been banished to after the bank foreclosed on our home sprang to mind. The weeping wallpaper, stained sticky carpet and lumpy couch brought back memories that were best left forgotten.
"You get that bed," Micheal said, having claimed the one by the window. "Fair warning, I snore like a fucking bear, so it would be in your best interest to get to sleep before me. Also," He stepped closer, crowding my personal space, his light baby blues glaring with pure disdain, "I like my sleep, Cullen. You wake me for anything less than an emergency, and I'll gut you."
I let out an awkward little laugh, that quickly turned sour when I realised he wasn't joking. I could tell we were going to become the best of friends.
And he was right, he did snore. Loud enough to rock the walls of the tiny room we were both confined to. It was unfair that even with his nap on the plane he was still able to find sleep, for the goddess had completely forsaken me.
Remembering that apartment brought back some dark times. How Seth and I shared the cramped disgusting living room so my poor dying mother could have some privacy in the one little bedroom. The scummy landlord who refused to fix the heating vent, leaving us suffering for months in the cold. Even the neighbourhood had been terrible, with gangs roaming the streets and crime rates so high, we were all afraid to go outside, even if only to retrieve our mail. It was hell, that place. A hell of my own making, at a crucial time where I just couldn't seem to keep anything together. And having it all come flashing back, made me feel... dirty.
The only reason we weren't still there was because of this job, yet it seemed I'd gotten so comfortable in the lap of luxury I'd completely forgotten my life before it. I suddenly felt sick with shame, because, despite all the good this job had brought, all the weight that had lifted from my shoulders, I'd done nothing but bitch the moment fate had gone against my favour.
Staring up at the dark, shadowy ceiling I silently resolved that in spite of my worry for my mother's wellbeing, my resentment for being brought here against my will would end. I would no longer be ungrateful. I was in Rome. Rome. And I was going to make the most of it.
AAA
The next morning, I was ready. Despite my lack of sleep, I was completely prepared for a day of exploring one of the most beautiful, ancient cities in all the world. I knew I'd been brought here to work, but I doubted Bella would be with the boss all the time. In fact, I gathered that even after bringing her along, Mr Black wouldn't be too eager to involve her in matters of business. That meant that looking after Bella would fall to me. And what better way to babysit then seeing every sight there was to see? I was excited. I was inspired. I was ready.
By the time Micheal got his phone call, I was practically bursting with anticipation. My head filling with so many plans, starting with the feverish desire to see what lay inside the gorgeous cottage. I was expecting the interior to be just as charming and whimsical as the outside, but the moment I stepped through the door, something just felt... off.
I didn't know what I'd been expecting but... while the house appeared comely, with bright welcoming colours, rich vibrant furniture and plenty of endearing inviting clutter, I just couldn't shake the undeniable notion that this place was.. fake. It was nothing, in particular, I could put my finger on, just an overwhelming gut feeling that I was standing in a showroom or a house built for a catalogue, rather than a home raised with love and tender care.
And the unease only grew the further into the house we went. We passed the large, quaint kitchen with a giant wood-burning stove, the dining room with its rustic, sturdy four-seater table, the halls decorated with aged flowery wallpaper and paintings of mountains and old men fishing near rivers. Honestly, it looked like a home someone had lived in for years, poured their heart and soul into making look beautiful. So why did everything feel so... artificial?
"You'll only need to be here when Mr Black isn't."
I jumped like a startled cat. I'd completely forgotten Micheal was even here.
"Will I still be looking after Bella?" I asked with hesitation, fidgeting my fingers feeling quite out of place. He looked down at me from beneath his light blond bangs, favouring me with dull disinterest.
"Well that is your job, isn't it, Cullen?"
Geez, I was only asking, I inwardly griped, having nowhere near the guts to speak my thoughts aloud. While not nearly as intimidating as Mr Black, the all American assassin was still dangerous; not a man I'd choose to cross.
"Come, we've got to meet boss in the safe room."
Yes, master.
I sulked behind like a trained dog, following through corridors and past a magnificent oak staircase until stopping before a long, wall-sized watercolour painting. It's contents were that of a temple hallway. Brushed white marble pillars all centring to an ominous black gate. It was pretty, but Micheal was staring at it so intently that I wondered if he was experiencing delirium. I wanted to ask if he was okay, when, to my utter shock, he reached out and pressed the painted keyhole like a button. Suddenly, the canvas moved across the wall, sliding like a secret passageway entrance in an old spy movie. I was dumbstruck as it revealed a large heavy metal door with a number keypad. Now this, this was more Jacob Black.
Without stopping to offer any explanation, Micheal typed in a combination, and the door effortlessly collapsed into the wall, revealing behind it a single stairwell leading down to yet another titanium door. What the...?
This time a shining electrical pad bore our path. Micheal placed his palm on the pad, and within seconds that entrance to, opened.
I could only gape. I was so confused.
My confusion rapidly replaced with terror by what I saw next.
Bella, holding a gun right at Mr Black's chest.
It felt like a thousand lifetimes flashed before my eyes in that one single solitary moment. I was frozen, paralyzed, and all I saw was her. Her, so tiny and fragile beside her gigantic opponent, pistol held with quivering hands aimed directly at Mr Black's heart. It was just her, that gun, that fearful expression. Panic overtook me until everything was but a faint ringing in my ear.
"Boss?" A hesitant call.
"It's alright Micheal," A cool, powerful voice replied, "The gun isn't loaded."
And with those four merciful words, my entire being collapsed with relief. The deafening scream of fear faded in an instant as the sudden overwhelming dread drained so quickly, I deflated, the adrenaline vanishing faster than a speeding train. I repressed the urge to collapse.
Haunted eyes watched the gun be gently taken from Bella's trembling hands. He didn't appear angry, thank goodness. I stared without blinking as she relinquished the weapon without a fuss, choking as Mr Black leaned down, placing a small comforting kiss to the frightful girl's forehead.
What the fuck was that?
In that single second, I thought I'd stumbled on an execution. I never wanted to see a gun in her hand again.
"Micheal, please escort Bella back upstairs. I'd like a moment alone with Edward."
And just as quickly as the relief had come, it vanished. The tension was near palpable as I watched Bella flee, hearing the door slam quietly behind me. We were all alone.
What just happened? Why was Bella pointing a gun at him? She hated guns. And why was he so calm about it? Was he just pretending to be calm? Did he ask to see me alone so he could punish me instead of her?
My heart began to jump, sweat beading the back of my neck. Thinking anything was safer than looking this man in the eye, I cast my gaze to my surroundings and immediately realised why Micheal called it a safe room.
There was a wall of guns, from handhelds to automatics, decorating the dull grey cement like perverse malicious wallpaper. There were several pallets of bottled water as well as a small pile of dried food sitting in the corner. A single bed, a toilet, a sink and, perhaps most surprisingly, a massive computer setup that was the wet dream of every gamer on earth sat waiting for explanation. There were at least twenty screens, and beneath the screens some kind of... control panel. I didn't know what to think of it, though I knew Seth could probably explain all the buttons and dials. I couldn't name half of what I was seeing, but one thing was certain, this place was definitely built for security.
I could no longer ignore him when his strong, totalitarian voice demanded attention.
"From this room, you can activate every safety measure the cottage is defenced with. You'll be put on the system, and given your own passcode, which you will memorise before you leave this room. As you can see," He gestured fleetingly around the tight space, "it is equipped with more than enough to defeat one's enemies. The estate is well protected, but when you're a man of my stature, you can never be too careful."
I believed him. Mr Black was indeed a very powerful man, and powerful men tended to attract powerful enemies.
He moved towards the computers, where a few taps on the glowing panel brought every one of the dozen screens to life. My eyes widened as I watched each screen be overtaken by an image of somewhere on the property. There were cameras everywhere; by the entrance gate, in the gardens, in the hallways, even some bedrooms. My eyes caught movement to the far right, and as I watched, Micheal and Bella came into view as Micheal held open the door to the room I assumed she shared with Mr Black. I hunted over every screen, but couldn't find her after that. It seemed Mr Black enjoyed his privacy.
"This computer has control of every safety feature on the property, including an unhackable internet connection separate from the main house's electrical system. You can use this computer to contact me, or request backup from multiple locations around the city in case of an emergency."
My eyes widened as I processed all he was telling me. Now I thought I understood why the cottage felt so superficial. On the outside, it looked like a simple, beautiful old home, with so much character and culture, but looking at this room was all it took to realise that the outside was just an illusion. This place was covered in technology, not just designed to track and protect, but to hunt and kill. The perfect inconspicuous safe house.
I was too busy marvelling to pay attention when he turned to face me, but just in time did I catch his sudden murderous glare. I froze, surprise, and then fear seizing my body, crumbling under the weight of one mere withering look. I swallowed deeply as I fought every instinct to run. What did I do?
"This room is the final line of defence if all others fail. In case of an attack, you will bring Bella down here, and contact me immediately."
He crowded closer, until I could count every eyelash gilding his black, soulless stare. I shook like a leaf, meeting his intense glare with wide terrified eyes.
"I'm warning you right now, Cullen. If something happens and we have a repeat of your pitiful display at the charity ball, you won't get another chance to beg forgiveness."
"I-I-" I stammered, pulse throbbing painfully, mind scrambling for words. "Yes, sir. Yes, sir. It- it won't happen again. I'll... I'll keep her safe this time. No matter what. I promise!"
He stared at me, and I prayed to all the gods that he could sense my sincerity. I didn't want to die, and I was dying for the opportunity to make up for my failure that night. Anything to redeem myself in his eyes.
A minute of torture, and his terrifying intensity seemed to slacken. He took a small step back, enough space to breathe, before finally favouring me with a stern nod.
"Good. Come, you need to learn how to activate the lock-down."
After a few hours of studying the most complex computer system I had ever seen - and regaining enough control to not soil myself - I emerged from the safe room with suffocating relief and fresh eyes. For a moment I had truly believed I would die in that room. Mr Black, he was so unnerving when he was angry, and he'd obviously been holding that grudge for weeks now. I didn't blame him. I still had not forgiven myself for failing to protect Bella from those brutes, but it did make me wonder... if he doubted me, why hadn't he replaced me by now?
I trailed behind him like a lost puppy as he walked back through the house towards the front door.
"Bella's upstairs, Edward. She knows the rules. Just keep an eye out and be sure to report anything suspicious. I'll be back in the evening, so make sure she eats. Micheal, you're driving." Mr Black commanded, turning away to toss Micheal a set of shiny metal keys. And before I could ask any questions, or indeed, voice my confusion at his demands, the two men slid into a shiny black armoured Range Rover and took off down the driveway, past the gate and were gone.
AAA
And so I sat. For hours.
After Mr Black's rather abrupt departure, I realised I didn't quite know what I was supposed to be doing... exactly. Sure, I was to protect Bella, but in a house surrounded by armed guards, sophisticated technology and an impenetrable wall of security, what exactly was I protecting her from? Mr Black had said the upstairs was off-limits. That only his bedroom was up there and the only ones permitted to enter were female maids, so I couldn't go exploring, nor could I use the excuse to possibly coax her from the room. I tried asking the maids, but short of enquiring if I was hungry, none of them were very willing to talk.
I was... confused.
Was she just tired from the flight? Jet lagged, perhaps? The look of terror on her face while she grasped that gun was so potent, it was entirely possible she simply sought some time to recover. But, as the morning slipped into afternoon, and afternoon to night, I started growing concerned by her distinct lack of presence. My only reassurance that she was alright was the maids bringing down her empty trays. I had not seen, nor talked to her all day and I was disappointed. I expected her to be just as eager to see the city as I was. She always seemed so joyful whenever she was outside, even back home at places she'd seen a hundred times. I knew she didn't want to be here, like me, but... didn't she at least wish to make the most of it?
It was pure darkness when the armoured car returned. Impatient, and upset, I stepped outside as Mr Black emerged, looking just as sharp as he had this morning. I genuinely wondered how it was he never appeared tired or... at the least dishevelled. The moment he locked eyes on me, his deep, intimidating voice immediately questioned, "How was she? Did she behave?"
I stared, off guard, unsure exactly what I was supposed to say. "Yes?" I answered meekly. My short reply did not appear to appease him.
"Well?" He pressed, Micheal shaking his head mockingly behind him.
"She... she, erm," I scavenged for a reply, face growing hotter under every second of silence. "She ate. She... didn't leave the room, sir. Or at least, didn't come downstairs." I confessed, feeling completely mediocre. I anticipated his fury at my lacklustre report, but he only nodded as though my answer were expected. I opened my mouth, possibly to ask exactly why it was expected, when his next words shut me up.
"You're excused. Be back here the same time tomorrow. Micheal." He nodded to the smirking man, before walking into the cottage and closing the door firmly behind him. I was stunned at his indifferent dismissal, mind only rebooting at the sound of snickering.
"You must love your job, right Cullen? Easiest paycheck in the world."
I spun defensively, but he was already walking away from me, heading back towards the cabin while a little chuckle shook his shoulders. I hated him.
The next morning I awoke with brand new determination. The first day hadn't gone as planned, but this day would be different. After emerging from the room I shared with the resting rhino, I was promptly introduced to Jia and Buoxord, the father and son who lived in the cabin. They were nice enough, but spoke very little English. Buoxord was a young, strong man in his twenties, with thick curly auburn hair and a neatly trimmed beard, while Jia, a smaller, older gentleman was the spitting image of his son, the only difference being his smaller stature and the slight grey of his balding head and moustache.
Engaging in what little conversation we could, I learned that they both acted as caretakers for the property. Their jobs to care and preserve the land, ensuring the grass grew and the garden thrived. According to Jia, this land used to be theirs, but the bank had it seized after the man's wife passed. He spoke emotionally of how Mr Black had ridden in on his golden horse and bought the estate, allowing the man and his son to stay rent-free as long as they maintained it.
Honestly, Jia was very sweet, and he had nothing but good things to say about my boss, but as I stewed over my morning coffee, I couldn't help but wonder why Mr Black would do such a thing. I understood why the location was desirable, for it was secluded and Mr Black valued his privacy, but why keep the cottage standing? If he owned the land, why not knock it down and build something more to his tastes? It couldn't be out of respect for the small old man, he was already grateful enough for being allowed to stay, and Mr Black clearly had no qualms about renovation since I seriously doubted that titanium-plated safe room was a part of the original design.
So, why? The place was beautiful, there was no doubt, but Mr Black didn't seem the type to appreciate the country life. And honestly, this tiny cabin had more character in a single crevice then that entire cottage. I got that Mr Black wasn't here very often but... it just felt like there was something I simply wasn't getting.
After Micheal finally dragged himself up, we both headed over to the cottage together, but just like yesterday, Mr Black's departure was a sudden one. I barely managed to squeeze a polite 'good morning' before he and Micheal were off, and I was left standing without a clue.
Again.
A cursory look confirmed that Bella was most likely still upstairs, but I was reluctant to sit around all day. I wanted to go out, explore, see the sights, act like any dumb tourist. She had all of yesterday to rest, she must be up for it now!
Walking into the kitchen, I approached the first maid I saw.
"Excuse me?" The short, stumpy woman jumped from her place at the sink, whirling to face me with soaked hands and a nervous eye.
"Sì?"
"Sorry for interrupting. My name is Edward. Could you go and get Bella for me? I'm afraid I'm not allowed upstairs." I explained as nicely as I could, not oblivious to her obvious distress.
What did she have to be afraid of?
She consented with a hurried nod, pulling the bright yellow latex gloves off her arms and placing them by the sink before scurrying to fulfil my request. I scanned the rest of the kitchen, but the other maids refused to meet my eye. Maybe they were mistrustful of strangers. Maybe they didn't wish to be singled out for extra work. Maybe they just didn't like me, I didn't really care. I rocked on my heels, fighting the urge to complete the dirty dishes lingering in the sink when the small maid returned.
Without Bella.
"Well?" I asked her eagerly.
She appeared even more cautious then she was before. Her fingers wringing the damp fabric of the dirty apron she had strapped around her waist. She regarded me almost frightfully.
"My apologies signore, but signorina Isabella has refused your invitation."
I blinked.
"What?"
She fidgeted some more. "She... she claims to be tired, signore. She does not wish to come down."
My face immediately fell. She had spent all day up there yesterday, how tired could she possibly be?
"You told her it was me asking, right?" I demanded, a little impatiently, thinking perhaps she may be avoiding someone else, but the woman only nodded.
"Sì, signore, I mentioned your name, but signorina wishes to be left alone. My sincerest apologies." She told me timidly, as though fearful she'd be struck.
I didn't understand. Why didn't she want to come down? Didn't she want to go out? Explore the city? She hated being cooped up indoors, I thought she would have jumped at the chance to be somewhere new.
"Thank you," I muttered, watching as the woman hastily returned to her work. I, however, was at a complete loss.
I was supposed to watch over her, that was my only job, if she didn't want to leave the house, then neither could I.
I sulked on the sofa for many hours, moving between watching television, scrolling through my phone, wandering aimlessly around the quaint cottage and even exploring the garden. It truly was beautiful, but not big enough to entertain for long. I saw the gentleman Jia off near the security wall, pruning some weeds sprouting near a brick pond. He raised a cheerful hand to me, but I could only return it half-heartedly. It was a gorgeous day. I wanted to go out. Why was I trapped inside?
Feeling the slight stab of hunger, I decided to retreat to the kitchen, when a flash of brunette hair caught my attention.
"Bella!" I called, rushing to the hallway to find her mid-step on the staircase. She turned, looking me over with tired lifeless eyes, a single glass of water clutched in her tiny hand.
I decided to play it cool.
"How... how are you?"
She regarded me coldly. "Peachy." Was her sarcastic reply.
I shifted uncomfortably.
"What have you been doing all day? The maid told me you were too tired to come down. Are you sick?" It was the only possible solution that came to mind, because she did look sick. Her pretty bright brown eyes were bloodshot, her normally soft pink lips were cracked and dry, and the tip of her cute button nose was a dull dark red. With her hair chucked up in a messy bun and cheeks flushed unpleasantly, it was the only excuse my mind could conjure that made even a lick of sense.
And yet, she scoffed.
"Oh, I'm sick alright." She mumbled, glaring tiredly at the wooden steps as though they were to blame for all her suffering.
"Well... do you need anything? I could get you some medicine if you want? Is there anything in particular that would make you feel better?" I was genuinely concerned for her well being. Considering how down she'd been lately, I'd happily play doctor if it meant getting her better. Looking at her face, I expected to see gratitude, instead, all I got was a dull, lifeless glare that reeked of incredulity.
"Edward," My name was sharp and bitter, "are you being intentionally stupid?"
I was completely taken aback. "What... what do you mean?"
"You, asking me how I am? How do you think I am?" She demanded, voice cracking and hoarse, her eyes ripe with rage.
"You... you said you were sick-"
"I am sick! I'm sick of this place! I'm sick of him! I'm sick of you! I'm sick of everything!"
"Bella, please-" I began, attempting to calm her unexpected fury, but she just kept yelling.
"How do you feel, Edward? You don't want to be here, how do you feel being forced into something you don't want to do? At least you can leave the house, I can't even..."
She trailed off, gasping for air, tears immediately springing from her red raw eyes, her anger crashing into sorrow so suddenly it made my head spin.
"I don't understand. If you don't want to be here, let's go outside. There's a ton of things to do in the city, we'll have fun, I promise. Just come with me." I insisted, certain I could fix what was making her so miserable, but my confidence was shattered by a breathless biting laugh.
"He didn't tell you. Maybe he just expected you to guess."
The look she gave me...
"Guess what?" I questioned dumbly. Her face screamed every ounce of pain.
"I'm not allowed to leave, Edward. I'm never allowed to leave. Whenever he drags me on one of his business trips, he dumps me somewhere, and that's where I stay. This is it. This is all I get. Isn't it just the most beautiful prison?"
