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"I don't really have many staff yet. Mainly Emma and a few temps."
"Emma was supposed to move here, wasn't she? Did something happen?"
Ana felt her pulse trip at the casual question. It seemed innocent on the surface, but his eyes had narrowed suspiciously. Her eyes fell on the fabrics that he had rifled through, before returning to his face, which bore into her with painful intensity.
"Was there an issue with her?" he pressed darkly.
Was this an interrogation?
Ana's retort was stuck in her throat. At one time, perhaps a year ago, she would have voiced it. Today, she just wanted to run from the dangerous look in his eyes. The one that promised repercussions if she withheld the truth from him.
What did he think happened with Emma? Something nefarious?
He was so cautious and suspicious. He didn't seem to trust anyone, especially not the staff. This large estate was barely staffed because of his paranoia.
"She was just torn about leaving her mother behind, so I thought it would be better if she worked remotely from Pittsburgh."
Gio gazed at her for a long time, his eyes sweeping down her submissive pose on the ground. "Very kind of you," he murmured. "Much kinder than I would've been with my staff."
His gaze, she saw, was no longer on her, but on the housekeeper hovering at the doorway. The poor woman trembled as the Don narrowed his eyes on her.
"You told me to stop by, sir?"
"Yes…tell me, have you been helping with the setup of this room?" His hand waved at the empty room and at Ana, who sat alone on the ground, tidying her few belongings.
The housekeeper shifted uncomfortably, deliberately avoiding looking at Ana. "I-I was just waiting for the shipments to come in, sir."
Gio tilted his head in sharp inspection. "I hope you know that Ana is your new Donna. My wife. I expect you to help her as you help me."
"Y-yes, yes of course." The housekeeper nodded obediently.
"Good. And what is the update on the shipments? Have you ordered the new sewing machines?"
"I uh was just going to put in the order…sir"
"Going to?"
His voice was as cold as ice. Brittle and frigid. It cut through the air in a terrifying swoop. Ana could practically feel the woman shrivel into herself, knowing she'd fucked up. She tried to smile reassuringly at the housekeeper, but the woman was beyond any sensation.
The housekeeper trembled like a leaf and quickly rushed to assure Gio that she would "put it in right now."
And then she was off–racing away like her head was on fire.
Gio issued a long-suffering sigh and ran a hand through his hair. The slick curls started to come undone. When he glanced back at Ana, she couldn't help a small smile of amusement. He stared at her until her smile faded away.
"It's fine," she said, clearing her throat. "I'm ahead on my orders, so I can manage without the machines for a few more weeks."
Gio glanced away stiffly and nodded.
Ana turned her attention back to the bookshelf, still in the same awkward crouched position. Her knees and calves ached like hell, but she could not move for the life of her. His presence made it difficult for her to breathe or do anything at all. She just prayed that he would return to his work, so she could return to her peace.
But when his footsteps began to shift, she felt her heart plummet. Disappointed. It felt like all the warmth and thrill that hovered in the air were disappearing with him.
"Ana."
"Hm?"
She distractedly glanced back at him, expecting him to be further away by the door. With a start, she realized that Gio was still standing right by her, staring down at her on the ground.
