Chapter 9

ARIA

“Are you okay, dear?” she asks, bringing her hands together, and I see the large Manilla envelope she’s carrying.

“Yes. I was just dreaming.”

About Peter.

My dreams are usually similar to the flashes of memory I get when I’m awake.

But when I see clear, distinct images, the dream is always the same, with the same person.

The same boy.

Peter.

When the dreams started, I told my father, hoping maybe I must have been remembering a childhood friend, but it wasn’t that. It turned out Peter is someone my mind made up.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep out here,” I apologize when she continues to watch me.

“No need to apologize. My only worry is that you couldn’t have been very comfortable.”

“I don’t think I noticed that much.” Or cared, obviously. Last night I must have been so distressed I didn’t think about where I was.

I was worried about what it was going to be like when Lucca came in and made good on his promise to fuck me. My heart still squeezes at the thought.

Just because it didn’t happen last night doesn’t mean it won’t tonight. It won’t matter when he plans to do it. What matters is that it’s going to happen.

“Well, there are a few things I have for you. Your clothes and other items should be arriving between today and tomorrow, but I got you some clothes at the store last night.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s just a few casual bits to wear while you’re waiting. I also brought some breakfast, and I have this.” She holds out the envelope to me, and I stand before taking it.

“What is that?”

“Lucca said you’d understand when you see what’s inside.” She nods.

“Is he here?”

“Yes. He’s gone for his morning swim.”

Morning swim? Of course. A man like that probably swims with sharks.

“Oh.”

“I’ll allow you to eat breakfast and have some time to yourself to read the documents. Lucca’s asked me to give you a tour of the estate, so I thought we could do that in an hour. Is that okay with you?”

It’s nice to be asked.

“Yes. Thank you.”

I’m surprised when she reaches forward and gives my hand a gentle squeeze as if to reassure me.

“I’ll see you then.” She saunters away, and I watch her go.

Because I’m curious to see what’s inside the envelope, I decide to deal with that first.

I walk back into the bedroom, and when I open the envelope and see what’s inside, I straighten up instantly.

The first document I pull out is titled Company Transfer Agreement.

It’s stapled together and looks like it has several pages attached.

My God, this is it. The details of my ownership of the company. I move over to the bed, plant myself down on the silky sheets, and lay the documents before me so I can look over them properly.

This company transfer agreement is effective on the 19th of July 2018. Between Teresa Marie De Marchi and Aria Teresa De Marchi.

Those are the details under the heading of the document. I continue reading and see where the complete transfer of Cervantes will become effective on my twenty-fifth birthday.

When I see Mom’s signature, something fills my heart.

I look at the next document and see the terms listed for an irrevocable living trust. I don’t think I would have heard of something like that, even when I had all my memories.

There are more details on that document of the company transfer to me.

As I look at it, that feeling that things are not quite right, or as I’ve been told, comes back to haunt me.

Both documents feel like the result of something else. While I can’t remember my mother, holding these documents makes me feel like she went through a lot of trouble so that I would get the company, and it would be irrevocable.

Something that can’t be revoked.

I would have thought the company transfer document would have been enough. But she made sure the company was mine through this trust. Like she thought someone else would change the ownership.

The only person I can think of who could do that is Dad.

But what would be so wrong with him doing so?

When I look at the trust document and see the clauses of marriage, Lucca infiltrates my mind.

On marriage, the company ownership becomes shared with my spouse unless excluded by a prenuptial agreement.

That’s what Lucca is using to have me and my family’s legacy.

I don’t know what to make of this. Something about it doesn’t feel right, and I don’t feel right allowing Lucca to take my family’s business away from me.

Mom, what were you thinking?

What made you do this?

She could have given it to my aunts or one of their husbands.

Why me?

***

“Let’s start with the courtyard and make our way around. The roses are the most beautiful thing about this place,” Marylin states with a twinkle in her eyes.

“They are beautiful,” I agree and adjust the little skirt she bought me. She got the size right. It’s just that there’s a ribbon on the side that keeps coming undone.

When we walk down to the courtyard, Marylin glances admiringly at the row of roses to our left, and I wonder if it was her who planted them.

“Do you tend to the roses here?” I ask, deciding to be friendly, although I couldn’t feel more awkward.

“In a way, yes, but there are professional gardeners who take care of them. I just oversee what happens. The only thing Lucca’s mother wanted after she died was for her roses to be taken care of. If the estate is sold, there’s a clause in there to make sure the roses get looked after.”

“Really?”

“Yes. She was always fascinated with roses. Always red roses. Lucca’s father grew them for her, and they covered this courtyard with a sea of roses as a symbol of their love.”

It’s hard to believe such romance existed in Lucca’s family when he is the way he is. I can’t imagine him having a romantic bone in his body. Of course, I’m not going to say that to her.

“That’s beautiful,” I say instead.

“There was also another reason for the roses. It was to remember their fallen ones in Russia. That’s why it’s called the Court of Blood and Thorns.”

As she says that, I feel that eerie vibe that came over me yesterday when I looked at the roses.

The name is fitting as I look at the deep red of each rose, I can see precisely the reason for the name.

“It’s like blood covering the thorns of the rose bush.”

“Yes. It is. They were very sentimental.” She speaks with pride.

I don’t understand it, though, because I don’t know how anybody could feel that way about people like Lucca.

I hold off on asking too many questions and decide instead to listen as she points certain things out. It’s going to be an advantage to know my surroundings. If I’m allowed to roam the premises freely, I can find somewhere to go during the day, so I don’t have to see anybody.

It takes us half an hour to walk around the courtyard, and then she shows me the little cottage by the lake where she lives. It’s very quaint and suits her.

We make our way back to the archway that leads to the opposite side of the house, and it’s endless. I’m surprised to see another garden and a woodland area.

She takes me to the Olympic-sized swimming pool where parties are sometimes held.

We come to a stop near a wall of Ivy. At the end of the wall is a large wooden door. Marylin points to it.

“That’s the only section you aren’t allowed in,” she says to my surprise.

“What? I’m not allowed?” My brows knit together.

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. He doesn’t want anyone going in there.”

“What’s in there?”

“I can’t tell you.”

That’s absurd. “So I’m supposed to marry this man, and there’s a whole section of the house we live in that I can’t go in?” I wonder if she can hear how ridiculous that sounds.

“I’m sorry dear, yes that’s true. I’m not allowed in there either. It’s just the way he likes to keep it. He tends to that section himself, as well as his private quarters.” She points to another section linked to the atrium of the house. “That’s the outside entrance.”

It’s another stony archway similar to the ones in the courtyard.

“Am I not allowed in there either?” What would he be doing in his private quarters?

Does he see women there? Most likely, or it wouldn’t be private.

Would I care if he did?

I don’t even know. Everything is all wrong, so why would I expect anything different from him when it came to that.

“You are allowed in there, but enter at your own risk.” She gives me a tight-lipped smile, and I don’t know what to make of what she means. “Let’s do the interior, and I’ll leave you to roam around by yourself to get used to the place.”

“Okay, thanks.”

She leads me away from the forbidden section of the house, but I can’t help but look back, wondering what’s over the wall.

The interior of the house takes close to an hour to go through, and surprise, surprise, there are parts of the house Lucca would prefer I didn’t go to just yet, so she doesn’t bother to show me those places.

Everything else feels like I’m touring a museum. She talks about the paintings on the walls, the grand halls, and what they were used for back in the day.

Finally, she finishes downstairs in the library, where I’m told I can take books to read whenever I want.

It’s nearly lunchtime when we’re done, so she goes off to cook, and I go back outside to roam.

I find myself roaming right back to the forbidden section and decide not to test the powers that be. But I don’t mind entering the private quarters at my own risk.

Admittedly, I’m curious, and I also want to talk to him. I want to find out more about what’s happening.

I imagined Dad signing over guardianship, and I want to know if it’s happened yet and what I’m supposed to expect. Marylin said Lucca was here, but I didn’t see him on our tour. I don’t know if that meant he might have left, or he’s over here.

I’m about to find out.