After dinner, I relax in the atrium, resting my hand on my belly as Damien plays for me.
“The baby enjoys the music,” I tell him. “She stops moving whenever you play. I think she likes it. It puts her to sleep.”
Damien pauses, his hands still on the keys. “She?”
I smile. “It’s a girl. I found out today.”
Joy shines on Damien’s face. “A niece. She’ll be a blessing. Luca would be so happy.”
The mention of Luca’s name brings a pain to my heart, but I promised myself, and him, the other night that I would be strong. That I would move forward for our child.
For our daughter.
Damien begins playing again and I close my eyes.
Aria. A melody, a song.
That will be her name.
I fall asleep and when I wake, I find that Damien had covered me with a blanket. That mere action causes me pain, because it’s something that Luca isn’t here to do.
********
My days are empty, and each day seems like a week. Each week brings such changes.
As I examine myself in the mirror, the shape of my body fascinates me. I run my fingers over my belly, which protrudes straight out in front of me. Although the rest of me is still slender, I can’t feel my ribs anymore. Pregnancy has made my hair shiny and lush, and my skin does seem vibrant. My breasts are swollen now.
I sit with a sigh on the edge of my bed, naked, as I think about my life.
Luca isn’t coming back. Everyone is right.
The pain of it is too much to bear, too much to think about, and so I’ve tried to block it from my mind. I’ve tried to pretend that it’s not happening, that it’s a horrible dream.
But it’s not.
I’m here and he’s not and soon, I’ll have our baby without him.
The sea breeze kicks up and flutters the curtains, blowing them hard. I get up to close the doors, and as I do, I glance down and find Damien standing in the windows of the study, staring out at the gardens.
Before I can move, he looks up and sees me. His eyes brush over my nakedness, his face a perfect mask. I can’t read it. I close the doors quickly, blocking him and everything else out.
Perhaps it’s time, but I simply can’t bring myself to face it…the real world.
Not yet.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Luca
How long have I been here?
I don’t know. Hours and days and weeks run together, the blackness folding in and containing me.
Once, I knew I was a child of darkness, and now that I exist in it, it makes all the more sense.
I was born for this. Fair or not, it’s been my lot in life.
Thoughts of Eva fill my mind and I focus on that. How has the pregnancy changed her? Does it make her sick? Can she eat? Has she felt the baby move?
I don’t know any of these things because she hasn’t called. Or if she has, Adrian hasn’t played the messages.
My hope for her is that she’s gone… that she has flown back to America, where she will raise my child in safety.
The thought, while it is something that I want and hope for, is at the same time something that makes me feel so alone.
Suddenly, the room seems to still, and I think I hear a voice. My mother’s voice.
Semper perstant, Luca.
The words are Latin, and they are emblazoned on the Minaldi crest.
Always persist. My mother used to whisper those words to me from time to time, in rare moments of decency.
Her crypt is in here. So of course my mind is playing tricks on me and I’m imaging things that aren’t there. My mother can’t be whispering to me. She’s dead. It’s all part of Adrian’s plan, I’m sure, to drive me to the brink of insanity.
Always persist.
I hang my head and wait for whatever Adrian has in store for me next.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Eva
I’m in the atrium when he approaches, quietly and hesitantly, clearly not sure if he should disturb me.
I smile. “Hi Damien.”
I’ve not mentioned the day that he stared up and saw me naked on my balcony. There doesn’t seem to be a need.
“Hi,” he answers. “May I speak with you a moment?”
His face is so serious, so grave, that I’m instantly on edge, and even though I pat the seat next to me, my arms feel like wood.
“Of course,” I manage to answer. “Do you have news?”
Damien shakes his head. “No. But I do have to discuss a few things with you. I’ve been waiting for the right time, but there doesn’t ever seem to be one.”
I stare at him nervously. “Now is fine,” I assure him. Although I’m sure it’s not.
He sighs. “Eva, we have to talk about the future and what we will do. I know that Luca intended on marrying you, but unfortunately, you didn’t wed before he… died. There is no legal paperwork declaring you his heir, and so Minaldi Shipping will pass to Christoph and myself.”
The way he phrases this as new information surprises me and I raise an eyebrow, closing my book.
“Doesn’t it already belong to you? All three of you?”
Damien shakes his head. “Luca didn’t tell you? He owned Minaldi Shipping, solely and completely. Our father, believing that he’d passed a curse to Luca, felt consumed with guilt, and to assuage that guilt, he willed the company to Luca. It carried the stipulation that Christoph and I should be granted permanent executive positions. Luca didn’t want to run the company and he knew that I did, so he named me CEO.”
Shock covers me in waves.
“All of this is his?” I ask softly, staring around the room. “I thought he shared it with the two of you.”
“And he did,” Damien agrees. “Luca felt that our father was wrong to solely will everything to him.”
“So, he left everything to you?” I ask curiously.
Damien shakes his head. “Luca didn’t have a will,” he admits. “My father’s will specifies that if something happened to Luca, the company would then go to Christoph and me.”
“That makes sense,” I nod. “You deserve it.”
Damien smiles a tight smile. “I don’t know about that. It’s simply a birth right. But the birth right I’m concerned with now, is that of your daughter. She’s a Minaldi, Eva. And she deserves her place in the family.”
I’m confused and I tell him so.
“Eva, I’ve thought a lot on this lately. And I think this is the right thing to do. Marry me. Let me raise Luca’s baby as my own. It will solve many things… she won’t be born a bastard, she’ll be taken care of by her rightful family. Luca would want it, Eva. He’s been gone for months. He wouldn’t want you to face the world alone.”
He stares at me intently, seriously. And I’m bowled over by shock. And I’m appalled.
“No,” I breathe. “I can’t. Luca.”
Damien’s face softens and he takes one of my hands.
“Luca’s gone, Eva,” he says gently. “You have to think of the future. You could go back to America and raise the baby there, but is that fair to her? To deny her the rightful place in her family? Her culture? Her heritage? Just think on it. Many people get married for reasons such as this, and eventually, they even come to love each other. I respect you as a sister. And someday, perhaps that will develop into more. I would venture to say that a mutual respect is not a weak cornerstone for a relationship.”
I literally feel sick to my stomach, but I desperately try to conceal it as I flounder, as I stutter to find my words.
“Damien… I….this is unexpected. I think that you’ve taken your role of caretaker for the family very seriously for so long that you think you need to be my caretaker. That isn’t the case. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“I know you are,” he agrees. “But if you choose to leave Chessarae, you’ll have to face reality and go back to work… and it might be too soon for you to do that. If you remain here with o
ur family, you can re-enter the world at your own leisure, after you have come to terms with everything that has happened. I won’t expect you to be a true wife to me… not yet. I simply want to provide for my family, which you and your baby are part of. Let my family take care of you, Eva. It’s what Luca would’ve wanted.”
“I can’t,” I whisper, trying to ignore the rushing sound in my ears. All I can see in my head is Luca’s face. I can’t get past it. I know that I never will.
“Just think on it,” Damien tells me firmly. “Christoph and I spoke this morning. We agree that the time has come to declare Luca officially gone. We must do this for business reasons, as well as personal. We truly must find some sense of closure, Eva. And so must you.”
For some time after Damien leaves, I stare blankly at the windows, trying to formulate thought, to gather my emotional strength to process this. I can’t.
Instead, I get to my feet, a feat that is becoming more and more difficult with each passing day as my stomach grows. I slip inside the secret tunnels and wind my way around to Luca’s room.
When I enter the damp solitude, I collapse into a chair.
“I can’t do this, Luca,” I whisper to the silence. “I can’t. I can’t stay without you here. I can’t marry Damien.”
The thought makes me sick to my stomach. The very idea of saying wedding vows to anyone other than Luca makes my heart rip into two.
But what about Aria? Is it selfish of me to flee to America? To raise her alone, without knowing her Minaldi family?
I am limp as I think of my options.
“Give me a sign, Luca,” I plead. “Wherever you are, please. If you’re really gone, give me a sign. Anything. Leave a rose in my room. Just let me know, somehow, that I should give up on you. That you’re really gone. Please.”
The air around me seems to still, and the hair raises on my neck. “Luca?” I ask softly. Of course there is no answer.
There’s no one there. I’m alone.
Yet even still, later in the evening, after I retire to my rooms after dinner, I almost expect to see a dark red rose on my bed.
I don’t.
My bed has been turned down by a maid, the crisp white sheets bright. There isn’t a red rose in sight.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Luca
I open my noise to a sound, although why I bother, I don’t know. I still wear a blindfold.
“Are you ready to see, Luca?”
I remain silent, refusing to answer Adrian. His taunts and tortures have grown tiresome.
I hear a rustle, then feel pulling against my blindfold. A second later, it falls away and I squeeze my eyes shut. Even the dim light in the crypt is too much for my sensitive eyes to bear.
“Go ahead. Take your time,” Adrian taunts. “When you’re ready, look in front of you.”
I don’t want to. But I know that regardless of whether I do or don’t, Adrian will make sure I know what he wants me to know. After a minute, I open my eyes, allowing them to adjust to the light.
In front of me, hanging on the stone, are two things.
A clock, and a dry-erase board with a large number three drawn on it.
I stare at it for a moment, then look away.
“Do you want to know what it means?” Adrian asks, barely containing the glee in his voice.
“No,” I answer. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, but it does,” Adrian sneers. His expression makes his face ugly. “It’s a countdown to your death, old friend.”
I startle, staring at him for a minute, before I look away yet again. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
Adrian chuckles, a hoarse sound. “If it really doesn’t matter to you, then I was right to do it this way. I was supposed to kill you immediately. But I thought it would be so much more gratifying to do it this way. And I was right, like always.”
His words echo through the crypt and I focus on them, on a handful of them. I stare up at him one more time. “You were supposed to kill me?”
Adrian stills, then refocuses. “That was my plan,” he clarifies. “But I changed it. That’s my prerogative.”
“I guess it is,” I answer slowly, but his phrasing still bothers me. I was supposed to kill you immediately.
Adrian watches me, a knowing expression on his face. “Fine. I have a secret. You have three days to figure it out before I kill you. But don’t worry. Even if you don’t guess it, I’ll tell you. It’ll be fun.”
I try to deaden my heart, to stop the curiosity that runs rampant through me. I don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter.
“I’ve done as you asked,” I point out. “I haven’t tried to escape. Do I have your word that you will leave Eva alone?”
He laughs once again. “I don’t think it’s me that you should worry about.” With a flourish, he pulls out a photo and holds it in front of my face.
At first, I think it’s a photo of me and Eva embracing, and fury runs through me that Adrian got so close to us. But then I realize that the photo isn’t of me. It’s of Damien and Eva. Eva’s in her nightgown, her face buried in Damien’s chest, his arms wrapped around her.
“He’s comforting her,” I manage to say, although I can’t ignore the hurt that shreds through my heart. Adrian smirks.
“If that’s what you want to believe.”
He knows that I don’t know what to believe, that I’ve been entombed in this crypt for weeks, that I have no idea what is going on above me. He’s counting on that to bring me pain.
“You’re a monster,” I remind him. He smirks again.
“Thank you.”
“It’s not a compliment.”
“If that’s what you choose to believe,” he shrugs. “Either way, you’ve got three days, friend. Do what you need to do. Say your prayers, count your blessings, whatever you want. Just prepare yourself.”
He walks away, up the stairs that lead out of the crypt and I stare at the whiteboard in front of me. The number three mocks me.
Once upon a time, the number was innocuous. It meant a long three-day weekend. Or half of a half-dozen. Or a lucky number.
Now that it means I have seventy two hours left to live, it has new meaning.
But I’m still numb. And oddly, all I can think of is the picture in my head of Eva in Damien’s arms. Given my surroundings and my circumstances, it shouldn’t hurt me. Yet it does.
She’s better off with him, I tell myself. He won’t hurt her like you will.
My jaw clenches at my own thoughts. In three days, this will all be over and Eva will be free to live a life that doesn’t involve pain. Damien can raise my child and it will grow up happy and strong.
In the darkness of the crypt, I try to convince myself that that’s all that matters.
In the darkness of the crypt, the large number three mocks me.
I close my eyes, wishing for the blindfold.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eva
I walk with Grendel again. It seems as though that’s all I do nowadays. I can’t begin a practice in town when I’d just have to take a maternity leave when the baby is born. That doesn’t make sense.
But the walls of Chessarae close in on me, so I walk outdoors, in the flowers, in the sun, toward the sea.
Grendel stays right by my side, night and day. He refuses to leave it. Even when I take long baths at night, with flickering candles surrounding me, he sleeps by the bathroom door, waiting for me to emerge.
It seems as though he’s worried about me, as well. Everyone is worried. Damien, Christoph, my doctor. They needn’t be. My baby is my priority. I’ll do anything to keep her healthy, even if that means moving forward when I don’t want to.
I’ve told Damien that I’ll give him an answer by the end of the week, and although everything in me says that the answer should be a resounding no, I’ve promised to weigh it from every angle and to think of the baby’s wellbeing.
Aria’s wellbeing is my foremost thought, always.
r /> Grendel suddenly takes off running, down the paths, toward the cliffs, but instead of continuing on the current trail, he veers to the right, down the path leading to the mausoleum.
Rushing toward it, he pauses at the door, staring back at me, beckoning me to join him. Shaking my head, I follow his steps, reaching him after a few minutes.
“What’s wrong, boy?” I ask quietly, trying to avoid looking at the building. I hate it. I hate the building, hate the walls, hate knowing what it is, when I know that Luca should be resting within. But we have no body. Until we do, he can’t rest in his rightful place.
Grendel just whimpers, his eyes sad. It’s as if he knows that Luca belongs here. The knowledge tears at my heart.
I don’t have a pocketknife like Luca did, so I can’t cut roses. Instead, I pull a handful of wildflowers from the ground and enter the building, ignoring the way the chilled air lifts the hair from my arms. Carrying the flowers, I set them down on top of Melina’s crypt, directly above her name.
As I do, I catch sight of the empty crypts along the wall. With wooden steps, I walk to the one next to Nicholas, trailing my hand along the cool metal of the door. There is no plaque on this one, for as of yet, it is empty.
But it belongs to Luca.
Sliding to the stone floor, I close my eyes. I’ve got to move forward. I have to let go of him. It’s been months. If he were alive, he’d come back to me. Damien and Christoph are right.
He’s gone.
I pull out my phone.
There’s one thing left for me to do.
Say goodbye.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Luca
I stare numbly at the number two in front of me as I listen to her beautiful voice.
“I love you, Luca,” Eva tells me through the phone. “I’ll always love you. Every day, every hour. But I know now that you aren’t coming back to me. If you could, you would. I have to wrap my mind around the fact that you’re gone and allow you the peaceful rest that you deserve. Wherever you are, whatever comes after death, I hope my unrest hasn’t disturbed you. I hope that you haven’t been tormented by my grief, that it hasn’t somehow held you to this place when you should be somewhere beautiful and empty of pain.”