Kapitel 7: Inhabitants of the De Santi Mansion (4)

CAT

I read through the rules for what has to be the tenth time in the last half hour. I don't know how long has passed. There is no clock in this room and the huge grandfather clock I saw in the living room doesn't work. Not that it would be of any use when William drilled in me that he doesn't want me leaving this room without his permission.

Don't get me wrong. I don't intend to follow any of the stupid rules he has set. But I also know breaking them all at once is going to make things harder for me. I want to have the upper hand here.

I don't know what time it is. I don't even know if the plan I hatched last night is going to work. I can only hope it will, because hope is the only thing I have—the only thing preventing me from letting fear overwhelm me.

I try not to pace, knowing William probably realized his little surveillance plan is no longer working and replaced it with another. I don't want to make it seem like I'm waiting for anything—well, anyone.

I let out the breath I've been holding when I hear a knock at the door. I already know who it is. No one else thinks I deserve the dignity of having a knock before they barge into the room. Still, I'm relieved to see it's Nico.

"You look happy to see me," he says.

"I was starting to think your grumpy brother forbade you from coming." I joke.

I finally notice the tray in his hands and my stomach growls in hunger, making him laugh. "That's one way to thank me for bringing a snack.

I move aside to let him in, taking in the unmistakable aroma of baked chicken. His impression of snacks is certainly different from mine. He sits on the stool at the foot of the bed. When he uncovers the tray, my mouth is watering long before he passes over the plate of food I'd only thought could be found in five-star restaurants. I put it carefully on the nightstand. This has to be one of Luna's recipes. It looks so good it feels like a sin to eat it, and I can't wait a second longer. I quickly wash my hands at the sink in the bathroom and grab a perfectly browned drumstick and bite into it as I sit on the bed.

Based on Nico's smile, I'm starting to think he enjoys offering people food and likes seeing them devour it.

My expression must have betrayed the thought that just ran through my mind because he looks worried. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing." I force a smile. "I just think…my Nonna would love you."

Crap. Why did I just say that? I'm supposed to make him trust me, not chase him away. I shake my head. "Forget I said—"

He interrupts me. "She sounds like she had good taste."

That's his way of letting me know it's okay, so my smile is genuine this time.

Is he really as easy going as I'm starting to think he is?

Only one way to find out, I think.

But first, I need to finish my food lest my appetite be ruined by my disappointment. Though let's face it. The house could be going up in flames right now and escaping would have to wait until I finish this delicacy. I eat some of the potato wedges while pondering before I say,

"Last night, you forgot your phone here," I say. We had popcorn and watched a movie, and I left him when William called for me. He must have been sleepy when he left for his room, and the phone must have dropped out of his pocket, which he didn't notice in his haze. It was gone when I woke up—he must have realized it was missing and dashed back to take it.

He nodded, but quickly frowned—a silent warning to not strike up this conversation. I ignore the warning.

"I was tempted to steal it, you know. Guess your passcode or something."

He looks into my eyes. "But you didn't." Before I can say anything else, he adds, "Snow, I don't want you to think I left it here for you. It must have fallen out of my pocket."

"I know. I didn't end up touching it because I knew if I managed to make a call, I would get you in trouble."

I watch as his expression darkens. "Are you threatening me?"

I place the plate back on the nightstand as if it's the way. "Not at all. I just want you to know that if you help me, I wouldn't do anything to get you in trouble with William."

Saying that is a risk and I know I've made a mistake when he stands.

I grab his wrist with my left hand. "Please, Nico. I'm not even going to ask for your phone. I just…I want them to know I'm okay. You and your family are only keeping me hostage to punish the Romanos, right? They don't even know I exist. Meanwhile, the Rossis have nothing to do with this but are hurting, thinking something happened to me."

The momentary shift in his expression prompts me to continue. "You could call them yourself or send over something…or, or I could write them a letter."

He hesitates, and I look him in the eye. "Please."

He runs his free hand through his hair, letting out a ragged breath. "You're going to get me into so much trouble, woman."

I try not to smile. Should I take that as a yes?

My answer comes a while after he takes the empty plate with him.

I had a feeling I'd managed to convince him when I saw the frustration on his face. Now though, I'm starting to fear he thought about it when he left and changed his mind. I'm quite good at convincing people but it often only works if they don't have time to think about it. Every time I'm given the 'I'll think about it' I know it's a lost cause. Because let's be real. The kind of decisions I often try to convince people to make aren't usually good ones.

When I hear that knock I've been waiting for, I nearly pass out in relief.

Nico places a sheet of paper on the vanity and puts a pen on top of it. "Be quick."

"Okay." I shuffle onto the chair and grab the pen.

For a few seconds, I'm tempted to use it as a weapon. The thought plays out in my mind in my motion. Him bleeding out and trying to dislodge the pen while I rummage through his pockets for his phone and use his finger to unlock it. I will certainly be able to make sure my message is delivered, unlike the letter that might simply end up in the living room fireplace.

But again, a lot could go wrong. He probably hadn't carried his phone after last night. And how exactly would I stop myself from facing the De Santi syndicate's retribution if I killed one of them?

I tear my gaze away from him and look down at the blank sheet of paper. He's not watching me but I know he will open the letter anyway, so I have to be cautious. I pen down the first letter and redo the strokes over and over, unknowingly boldening it as I think about what to write.

[Dear Rico, where do I even start?]

A letter to my brother wouldn't be too official, I guess. I also had to keep it short and convincing. I turned to Nico. "Rico is my brother. I'm going to tell him I'm out with a boyfriend."

He shrugged. "Do what you must."

So I continue writing.

[Earlier I tried to call you, but reception is so crappy that the call dropped. Still, I should have told you something before I left. A friend of mine took me on a cruise…well, Ivan. Not that it was planned or anything, it was a surprise and you know how much I love traveling, I couldn't say no. Talk to you when I can, say hi to Mom and Elena. Ivan's okay too, thanks for asking.

Love you, Cat.

PS. In case this letter doesn't get to you, I hope it gets back to me so I can prove I wrote it before you kill me.]

I fold it and gave it to Nico, trying my best not to look nervous. This was a dangerous game I was playing.

"That's it?" He frowns, noticing I didn't write much.

I nod. "My brother is quite perceptive. If I write too much, he will start asking questions."

He shoves it in his pocket. "Your address?"

I give it to him though I know he already knows it.

"Could you send it via Messenger or something? You look like a mafioso."

A grin of amusement ghosts his face. "Maybe that's because I am."

"Exactly."

"Fine."

When he leaves the room, my heart is racing a mile a minute. I hope he only reads it once if he does read it. Because if he reads it carefully, he will realize the first letters of every sentence spell out a name when put together.

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