I shake my head to clear it, taking a step back. It doesn’t matter, I tell myself sharply. What matters is that I figure out how to exploit this. How to make his life miserable for what he took from me.
Salvatore clears his throat. “Come with me, Gia,” he says tersely. “It’s time for you to meet the staff.” He leans down as we walk back inside. “You’re in charge of running the household now,” he murmurs. “Act like it.”
His reprimand burns. It infuriates me that he talks to me like I’m a foolish child, treats me like I’m ignorant, and yet clearly wants me as much as any man wants a woman. I pull away from him, following him into the large kitchen that faces out towards the gardens.
Waiting on us are the staff he wants me to meet. A tall, slender woman with greying hair, wearing a uniform-like outfit of black dress pants, a cream-colored blouse, and a blazer. Next to her is a stouter, but slightly younger woman, with blonde hair wrapped in a tight bun at the back of her head. Behind them are a handful of other staff, men and women, and I wonder if this is all of them or only the ones that Salvatore thought it was necessary for me to meet.
“This is Agatha.” He nods to the uniformed woman. “She has handled the household for me for years, and she’ll help you now. Frances—” Salvatore looks at the stouter woman. “My cook. And your personal maid will be Leah.” He motions to one of the women standing at the back of the room, a girl who looks only a few years older than me with dark hair and eyes, wearing an outfit similar to Agatha’s. “The others are my primary staff—in charge of cleaning, landscaping, and otherwise maintaining the house and grounds. They will follow your directions, unless they conflict with mine, in which case Agatha will come to me to discuss.”
Resentment instantly spikes in my chest. “So I’m not really in charge.”
I can feel the tension in the air immediately, and see the other staff glancing at each other out of the corner of my eye. Some of them clearly didn’t expect there to be dissent between Salvatore and me, but when I look at Agatha and Frances, they don’t appear surprised. So, some of them have an idea of what’s going on.
Salvatore ignores my comment. “You can discuss the running of the house with them, Gia. I’ll be in my office. I’ll find you before dinner.”
And with that, he turns and leaves.
I feel a prickle of unease as I turn back to the two women in front of me. I’m not at all prepared for this—if there’s one thing Salvatore is right about, it’s that I didn’t learn as much as I probably should have about this sort of thing. But I didn’t think—and still don’t—that Pyotr would care about that. And I’m not about to admit that Salvatore has a point when it comes to any of this.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gia,” Agatha says, although I think I can hear a hint of dislike in her voice. “Salvatore has asked me to fill you in on the running of the house, so that you can more easily manage it going forward.” She gestures towards the table. “We can sit. Leah, you stay, along with Frances and I. The rest of you should go back to work.”
“Shouldn’t I be telling them that?” I ask sharply, and Agatha glances at me.
“You can save the sharp tongue for your husband, Mrs. Morelli,” she says calmly. “I’m only following the don’s instructions. We’ll share the duties of running this place, and I’m sure that with my help, you won’t feel overburdened.”
The way she says it stings, as if she clearly thinks I’m a spoiled child. Everyone thinks that. Bitterness worms its way through me, because the Bratva wanted me. To them, I was a prize. Pyotr wanted me. Instead, I’m here, with a husband who refuses to fuck me, and a house full of staff who seem to think I’m an annoyance. Someone to be worked around instead of respected.
“Fine.” I sit down, my spine ramrod straight as I look at her evenly. “Fill me in.”
The rest of the staff disperse, and the other three women—Agatha, Frances, and Leah—take their seats. “Salvatore likes routine,” Agatha says. “Meals are served at the same time every day. Breakfast at seven, lunch at noon, and dinner at six. He takes his meals in the informal dining room, where I expect he’ll want you to join him. During the rest of the day, he makes himself scarce. He expects neatness, and the staff is used to that, so I’m sure they would be pleased not to have to pick up after clutter, if that’s your way.”
I can’t help but bristle at that. “I know how to pick up after myself.”
“Leah will bring you tea or coffee in the mornings when you wake, at six,” Agatha continues, as if I hadn’t spoken. “So you can enjoy it in privacy while you get ready.”
I realize, as she says it, that Salvatore must not have informed her about the change in plans—that I’m no longer going to have my own room, but share his. “Salvatore said I’ll be sleeping with him,” I say stiffly. “So she should bring it to our room.”
It feels wrong on my tongue to say that. A brief look of disapproval crosses Agatha’s face. “He told me yesterday, that as he had married his goddaughter, you would be put in the rooms across the hall from his.”
“Things changed.” I don’t elaborate on what changed, because I enjoy seeing this woman squirm. Enjoy seeing her imagine that her precious boss’s lusts overtook him, and he ravaged me on our wedding night, with every intent to continue doing it in the future, rather than the truth—which is that we were attacked, and he wants to keep me close for my safety.
Or so he said. I’m not entirely convinced.
“Well.” Agatha clears her throat, and I see her exchange a brief glance with Frances. “Then Leah will bring it to you there. She’ll handle your laundry, errands, and anything that you need.”
“I thought I’d have Claire come here. The maid who took care of me at home.” I know arguing is useless, but I can’t stop myself from trying. Every plan I had for myself continually seems to be undone.
“This is your home now,” Agatha says stiffly, echoing Salvatore. “And I’m following the don’s instructions. If you disagree, take it up with him.”
I intend to. I take a slow breath. “What else?”
“You are allowed to use the house and grounds as you please, but you are not allowed to leave the estate without the don’s permission. All of the security is aware of this. If you wish to make any changes to the house, let me know, and I will see to it.”
I clench my hands in my lap, my irritation rising by the second. So now I’m not allowed to leave. To see my friends. I want to shout at Agatha, but deep down, I know it’s not her fault. It’s Salvatore’s. And I have every intention of taking it out on him.
Agatha stands up. “You can discuss meals with Frances. Leah, come with me. I’ll make sure your things have been delivered, and Leah will arrange them in your room.”
I nod, unable to speak. If I say anything, I feel like I won’t be able to stop an outburst, and they’ll think even less of me than they already do. My throat tightens, frustrated tears burning at the backs of my eyes, but I don’t dare cry.