CHAPTER SIXTEEN: WINTER
Whenmybedroomdoor flies open, the last person I expect to see is Lucia Costa, and I blink as she stands in my doorway with a smile on her face.
“Hello, Winter,” she says, stepping into the room until she’s standing at the foot of my bed.
It's been a few weeks since the last time I saw her, and from the information I’ve gathered, she typically isn’t seen for months at a time around here. So, I have to wonder about her sudden appearance.
Is it because of what went down at the party?
It's been a week since that night, and I haven’t seen Vito or Giovanni since they disappeared into the room with Lorenzo and Polo. Enzo had driven me home, and Maximo had stayed behind as well. I’m pretty sure it effectively canceled the plans the two had with Isabella Accardi.
And as much as I hate to admit it, I can’t help but be worried.
Everywhere I go in the house, I keep hearing the men saying something about going to war, and while I thought it was the cartel we needed to be worried about, now I can’t help but wonder if Lorenzo and Polo should also be a concern.
There is no fucking we. None of this is for you to worry about. If they die, it means you’ll be free.
Or I’ll be traded to a new owner.
Considering Polo had asked how much it cost to buy me, I don’t have much hope that the family falling to him and Lorenzo would be good for me.
“Your little head seems to be spinning, Winter,” Lucia says with a smirk as she plops down on my bed and pats the covers. “Go ahead, tell Mama Lucia what is going on.”
My nose wrinkles at the statement and she lets out a laugh. “You can’t be much older than me,” I note cautiously. Lucia is the only person in the family who hasn’t threatened to kill me or play harsh mind games with me. She seems to be a pleasant person outside her last name, and the fact that she’s a female Maximo.
Okay, so scratch that, not a pleasant person at all, but maybe not entirely evil either.
“I’m thirty, like Maximo, and none of my playthings your age have a problem calling me mommy, but that’s completely off topic,” she waves a hand as if her statement is entirely normal. “What are you thinking about?”
I hesitate. I have a lot of questions, most of which I know I’ll never get a straight answer to. And while I think Lucia is okay, I'm not sure I can trust her.
Actually, I know I can’t trust her.
Some of the humor falls from Lucia’s face and she looks at me, her eyes studying my face before she nods.
“Giovanni is my boss and my least favorite cousin,” she says. “I answer to him only when necessary, and not always then, because I’m my own woman and I’m not amade man, so I don’t follow the same rules. As long as it isn’t to the detriment of my favorite cousin, I’ll keep whatever secrets you give me, little Winter.”
Her tone is even and genuine, her face devoid of her usual humor, and something about the way she looks at me makes me want to confide in her. I know it's probably because this is the closest to a confidant I’ve had since I’ve gotten here. And I believe her, she’s her own woman. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t have stood up to Giovanni only moments after he hit her.
“I don’t… is the family at war with Lorenzo and Polo now? And if so, what does that mean for me?”
Her brows pull together and she tilts her head slightly. “Lorenzo and Polo?” she asks. “The Damone Family?” she asks before letting out a small laugh, making me tense. “Of course not, why would you think that?”
“Because Vito and Polo got into a fight the other night-”
Her laugh is a bellow this time, cutting me off and she slaps her knee. “Yes! I heard about that. Cazzo! Do I wish I could have seen that! All nice and proper Vito fighting Polo. Was it as good as I’m imagining?” When she turns to me with inquiring eyes, I realize she’s serious.
“I… what? No, it wasn’t good. I thought they were going to kill each other-”
“So, it was excellent then?” she shakes her head. “Only I would have to work on such a glorious night.”
“You’re making it sound like a good thing.”
She shrugs, some of her amusement disappearing. “It is what it is. Every now and then we butt heads with other families, but not to the point of war, Winter. What would make you think that?”
I grab my head, pulling my knees up to my chest and resting my elbows on them. “I don’t know. I know nothing about this world, other than it’s going to be the reason I die. I just don’t know how that death is going to come.”
“Well, death comes for us all, eventually, so you shouldn’t really worry about that. What you should be worrying about is growing a bit of a backbone, yeah?”