Chapter Five

He's standing at the doorway, his hands thrust into the pockets of his suit pants casually. His face breaks into a smile when he sees me and he raises a hand and waves.

"There you are, Vanessa". 

I glance around the sitting room to see Aunt Ellie standing meekly to one corner, a polite but nervous smile pasted on her face. Behind me, Camilla is perched on the stairs too, observing the scene below. I take the last step down and walk over to him warily, my arms folded over my chest.

"What are you doing here…..Mr. De Luca?".

He looks at me like I'm stupid. "I'm here to take you home?". 

I scoff loudly. "Take me home? That's a very ridiculous thing to say". 

He chuckles. "Oh….is it? Ellie?". He turns to face my aunt and she perks up with alert. "You and Ken live here, don't you? Married couples stay together, don't they?".

Her nods are coming a bit too fast. "Yes….yes sir".

Mr. De Luca turns back to face me, a smile on his lips. "You heard that".

I glare at Aunt Ellie but she has already looked away from me, staring at the curtains intently. "Mr. De Luca….. I'm not coming to live with you. I have my own apartment but aside that, I'm not interested…..".

"You might want to be, Vanessa". His lips are stretched into a smile but his voice is cold and hard. "For the sake of everyone". Wow. So now he's threatening me with my family. I scoff loudly and unfurl my hands from my chest only to rest them on my waist restlessly again. 

"This can't be legal". I say through gritted teeth.

"I don't remember when married couples staying together became illegal". He has a point. The truth of the matter is we are married. No matter what I try to do, that fact alone binds me. When I resort to simply glaring at him, he knows he's won. He glances at his watch.

"You might want to be fast. I don't have much time to waste here". He proceeds to settle into the nearest settee without being asked to. "Be down in 10 minutes, Vanessa". 

I have no other option. With my spine stiff and my teeth gritted, I make my way back up the stairs, Camilla fast behind me. She shuts the door behind her as we enter my room. 

"You are really going to go?". She asks. 

I sigh softly. "I have no option, Milla".

"But…..". She starts to proceed but I raise a finger and plant it against her lips.

"Shhhh…..". I let my face widen into a smile. "..... everything will be fine I promise. You don't need to worry yourself".

She stays quiet but reaches forward and embraces me into a hug. At 17, she's already taller than me and I chuckle softly as I have to get on my tiptoes to hug her back. "You just take care of yourself". I tell her as I pull away. I hate seeing my baby sister worried. I do everything I do for her alone. She got to have our mother in her life for only the first 7 years, I'll forever try my best to fill up that space for her. Before this whole unexpected situation, I had planned to have her move to my apartment as soon as she turns 18 next year. I don't know how long I'll stay in Mr. De Luca's house for but I'll still do everything in my power to ensure that she leaves this house by then. 

"Now come help me pack up. That grumpy asshole is still downstairs". She giggles but comes forward and helps me in gathering up the little belongings I had brought along. Within 5 minutes, everything is stashed into my duffel bag and I glance at myself in the mirror. My sweater is oversize, hanging nearly mid thigh. My feet are only clad in my favourite pink socks and my face is sunken and tired. Never in a million years would I have imagined that I'd be going to my husband's house looking like this. I reach up and gather my dark hair into a messy bun at the base of my head. I've let it grow long within the past few years and it now hangs nearly to my waist. My mother had always liked my hair long. Every morning when I comb it out, it makes me think of her. I'm still struggling with my mass of hair when a knock lands softly on my door. 

"Come in!!!". I call out simply out of habit. It's only when the words are out that I realize that it could be Mr. De Luca outside that door. Before I can call out anything more, the door swings open slowly and Aunt Ellie's head pokes inside. It's a mixed feeling of relief and annoyance as I see her. I turn back to face the mirror.

"Nessa darling…..". Her voice is small and at least she has the decency to look awkward. She turns to Camilla. "Could you excuse us for a minute, Camilla?".

"That won't be necessary". I say shortly as I finally secure my hair and reach for my bag. "I'll be on my way now".

"Ness…..".

"I don't have anything to say to you, Aunt Ellie". I snap, the anger still simmering in my chest. "I'll call you later, Camilla". I say and turn around, making my way out the door and down the stairs. The sight of Mr. De Luca's smug face at the bottom of the stairs does nothing to help my mood.

"You are right on time, Vanessa". He pushes up to his feet and smoothens his suit. His eyes rake over me and land on the bag I'm holding. "Is that all you have to your name?". 

I glare at him coldly. "My things are in my apartment". 

He nods as if in understanding. "I see. Well…..we better make our way out then". He does that annoying wave again up the stairs and I don't have to turn around to know that Camilla and Aunt Ellie are probably standing there. I don't bother turning or waving as I adjust my bag in my hand and storm out of the house. The cold night air hits my face and I wince quietly. I hear Mr. De Luca's footsteps come up behind me. 

"It's the black car to the left". Like I could actually miss it. The car is a beautiful, jet black thing, obviously designed with the intention of displaying elegance and showing off wealth. I would never be able to afford that in 10 years. I follow him as he heads towards the car and as we approach, the doors open automatically, rising up gracefully like wings. It takes all of my pride and self control not to gawk. I go round the bonnet and settle into the plush leather seat, throwing my duffel on the back seat.

"Where is your apartment, Vanessa?". He say as he turns on the ignition. Even the engine sound sleek, a barely audible him that screams money.

I eye him warily. "You don't have to, thank you. I'll go get my things myself tomorrow".

He grips the steering wheel and turns back to me, a small plastered smile on his face. "And I insist. Now….". His smile widens. "....where is your apartment again?".

I resist the urge to glare. "No. 24 Bamford Street, uptown". 

And we speed out of the driveway.