I clean the room and try to smooth the wrinkles of my dress down. I don’t like looking unkempt. It makes me feel like I’ve lost control, and if there’s anything that I can control it’s my physical appearance, if I can help it. But that’s not entirely it; I’m doing this so I don’t look at the empty spot on the bed and think about what happened last night. I then wash my face with cold, cold water to stun last night's events out of me, and brush my hair with my fingers. Despite not having a brush or comb, it still looks flawless. I’ve never seen my hair like this. It’s incredible what a professional hairdresser can do. Enzo is taking an eternity to return. I have no way of communicating with him. No phone, nothing. Well, there is a phone here in the room, but who would I call? I don't have his number. All I can do is sit here with my grumbling stomach and wait for his arrival. I can't believe that he kissed me last night. In fact, that whole scene is a little hazy so I'm left wonder

I open my eyes and daylight is flooding the room.I sit up quickly and look around for a clock so I can figure out what time it is, but I find none. It's disorienting, waking up in this strange place, surrounded by people who despise me. I climb out of bed and step on one of the bags. The sight of all of them makes me depressed. How am I supposed to deal with all this? Where will I even do my laundry? I fish a pair of dark washed jeans from one of the bags and the only top that isn't excessively wrinkled. I get into the shower and blast the hot water. There are tiny bottles of shampoo and body wash in the shower, so I use those. I completely forgot about the ones I bought the other day; they're probably still in one of the bags. The shampoo dries my hair out and so does the body wash. I let out a frustrated sigh. I wrap a towel around my body and tiptoe back into the room to look for the ones Enzo bought. Bastard. I hate to think of his name. It fills me with a rage that I can’t qui

Three whole days have passed, yet it feels like it's been at least a month. Enduring the Puglias isn't an easy task. They're terrible people, always looking for someone weak to take advantage of. They take pride in being sarcastic and ill-tempered. When I say the Puglia’s, I mean Giotto and his daughter. Gustavo is the exception, as ludicrous as that seems. It's evident that he can't stand them, for the obvious reasons. I still can't believe that his own wife has an open affair with his father, and everyone around here seems to think that it's normal. They'll hold each other with affection in front of the staff, and no one looks twice at them. I personally came across them in the corridor. He was kissing her tenderly while holding that cat of his. I turned on my heel and marched to my bedroom. The sight of them makes me sick. I feel sorry for Gustavo. I don’t know how he can endure this. I believe that he hates his father, and I think that perhaps he hates him more than all of us. H

He starts to say, "Chiara-" but I don't know what takes over me. I slap him right across the face without letting him finish his sentence. He doesn't look stunned at my violence. In fact, he doesn't react to my slap at all. He just barges into the room, and closes the door. He points me, "That was entirely unnecessary.""What are you doing here?" I say, trying to keep my voice down. "After all this time, you have the audacity to come here and have me act as if nothing happened?"He looks genuinely confused. "Did you expect me to leave you here for all of eternity? In any case, I'm not here to get you. I'm just here to check up on you."I scoff. "You shouldn't have bothered, Enzo. I'm doing just fine without you, living under the same roof with the man who killed my family!" He places a finger over my lip. "Are you trying to get yourself killed!? And don't look at me with so much accusation, girasole. I did this to protect you."I feel like crying. I'm so angry that I could scratch hi

"You look absolutely beautiful, by the way,” Gustavo says to me on our way down the stairs.I flash him a small smile. "Thank you for the compliment." Even though I accepted his invitation to be his company for the evening, I'm not pleased with this. How can I, when I'll have to be around Giotto? He's the bane of my existence. I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to see his ridiculous face tonight, but he made sure that I should. Perhaps he knew what we were both up to. The guests are laughing and in one large group when we finally get to the living area. Giotto is amongst them, and Natalia is by his side. Unabashedly. As we near the group, a man who notices us clears his throat suggestively, and everyone turns to stare at us. I pause, but Gustavo drags me along. We join the circle and I end up standing beside the man who cleared his throat. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't acknowledge him. He says, "And who might this be?" "Is she your girlfriend, Gustavo?" A woman across us a