Out of the Dark (11 page)

“I know that, Bianca, but I wasn’t imagining it. I know you love each other.” I mimic her stance, and we are locked in an impasse.

She steps toward me and leans in so that her lips are next to my ear. “What if you
did
imagine it? What if you are mistaken? Please, Carina, I would never be untrue to my husband. Infidelity is criminal, do you understand? It is unforgivable.” She grips my arm, and her touch is pleading.

She
wants
me to forget
.

I look in her eyes and see desperation. “If you’re not in love with Rocco, you should tell him. I feel bad about your situation, but I don’t want to be a part of this.”

I care about Bianca, but Stefan would be so disappointed if he knew that this was happening in his home.

Bianca shakes her head, and tears begin to fall from her eyes. “It is not as easy as that. There is no way out for me, Carina. I cannot stay away from Fabrizio, I have tried. And I cannot leave my husband. He would find me. Mr. Savano would find me!” Her voice is crazed.

I hear dirt crunching nearby and look toward the sound, but I can’t see through the thick grapevines. “What do you mean
find you
? He can’t
force
you to stay here and remain married to a man you don’t love.”

Bianca’s face turns to stone. “You do not know your fiancé as well as you think you do.” The hurt I feel must be evident on my face because she backtracks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. Forgive me, please?” She takes both my hands in hers.

“I just think you should be honest. That’s all.”

She nods. Her hands are shaking. “You are right. Of course. I will try, all right? I will try.”

“Okay.”

I return to the house feeling more unsettled than before we spoke. I think of how abrasive Stefan can be, and I understand why Bianca seems so afraid of him.

Stefan is already under the covers when I come into the bedroom from my shower. He’s wearing his glasses and documents are spread on the bed as he reviews them.
 

I stop at the bureau and pump some sweet and expensive lotion into my hand before rubbing it on my elbows as I watch him.

He speaks but doesn’t look up from his work. “Darling, I want you to know that I have absolute trust in you. I know you’d never do anything to deceive me, and I know you’d never keep anything from me. This is true, is it not?”

My blood freezes in my veins.

He knows. He must know
.

Any allegiance I have to Bianca dissolves.

I have to tell him the truth
.

I walk to my side of the bed and crawl on top of the sheets, kneeling before him in my nightie.

He looks up. “Well?”

“I heard something when you were away . . . I heard Bianca . . . and Fabrizio.” My voice drops to a whisper. “I heard them. I think they were making love.”

He takes his glasses off. “You think? Or you know?”

I close my eyes. “I know.”

He leans against his pillow. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

I realize the gravity of what’s happening. “Are you going to fire them? Please don’t.”

“No. Not Bianca anyway. She’s important to Rocco, and he’s important to my business. I couldn’t afford to lose either of them. Fabrizio, on the other hand, is replaceable.” He stands up and puts on pants. “I have some work to do in my office. Go to sleep, I’ll be back soon.”

As I lay in the darkness, my mind drifts over all the kindness Fabrizio has shown me, all the joy that I’ve seen him give to Bianca. It’s hard to imagine this place without him. He and Bianca have been good friends to me. I feel awful, but I had no choice.

I had to tell Stefan, I had no choice
.

I repeat the phrase over and over until I fall asleep. Over and over again, until I almost believe it.

Chapter Seven

I jolt awake in the night to a loud burst of sound.

Undisturbed, Stefan snores beside me.

Maybe it was a bottle breaking? That must have been it.

I look at the clock. It’s only four in the morning. I nudge Stefan. “Did you hear that? Are you awake?”

He rolls over and snuggles me into his warm chest. “I didn’t hear a thing. Go back to sleep.”

When I wake again a few hours later, Stefan’s eyes are still closed.

It’s Sunday, the only day he sleeps in.

I slip on my robe and head down to the kitchen. I’m starving and possess a fierce craving for Fabrizio’s egg on toast. I feel a flinch in my chest when I realize this may be the last time I enjoy it.

When I enter the kitchen, I’m not met with the rich smells of coffee and hot butter. Instead, I’m met with the pungent and offensive odor of bleach. I wrinkle my nose at the stench, and I notice the door to the wine cellar is open. As I walk closer, it’s evident that the cellar is the source of the vicious smell. I look down the stairs, but it’s dim, and I can’t see.

“Hello?” I hear a swishing sound, then footsteps, and suddenly, Rocco is looking up at me from the bottom of the stairs.

“Miss Carina, you’re up early.” His sleeves are rolled up and he’s holding a mop, he seems surprised to see me.

“Is everything all right?”

His face is pale and blank, and he looks as if he didn’t sleep. “Yes, some bottles fell and broke down here. I’m just cleaning up.”

“Oh. Okay. Have you seen Fabrizio?”

His face doesn’t change. “Fabrizio doesn’t work here anymore.”

I’ve run up the stairs and burst through our bedroom door before I realize that my feet are even moving.

Stefan wakes as I stride into the room.

“You fired him? How could you do that, Stefan? He’s been a loyal employee. He’s a good person!”

Stefan jumps out of bed and grabs my shoulders. He guides me to the bed as I weep from the guilt and loss I feel. “Loyal, Carina? He was not. He was sleeping with a married woman. He was doing so behind my back, in my home. I can’t continue to employ a man who’s dishonest. How could he guarantee that he wouldn’t betray me in other ways, as well?”

I feel so defeated, so lost, and confused.

Stefan is right
.

Fabrizio lied and so did Bianca. They worked and lived here like family. It hurt to know they’re suffering, but it pains me just as much that they betrayed my fiancé.

“I just—I just feel like it was my fault.” I sob and weep.

Stefan kneels before me, pushing the hair out of my eyes, and strokes my tear-streaked cheeks. “Your fault? You told me the truth. That’s noble, not dishonorable. You’re not the one who betrayed my trust. Fabrizio had to be terminated. I had no choice.”

“And what about Bianca?”

“That’s between her and Rocco. He was distraught when I informed him of what was happening. I won’t get involved in how they choose to sort out their marriage. Rocco has made it clear to Bianca that I’m unhappy with her, and she’ll have to earn not just his trust again, but mine as well.”

A sob rolls through me and the tears cease. “Where did he go?”

“I don’t know where he’ll end up, but I’m sure that Fabrizio’s talents will dictate his fate.” Stefan leans in, measuring my reaction, before bestowing a gentle and tender kiss. He holds me to his chest. “Never apologize or allow yourself to feel shame when following your heart. You did the right thing. You did the right thing.”

I nod, easing into his embrace, and fall asleep beside him.

When we rise again, it’s late in the afternoon and the room is dim. Through the gap in the thick curtain, I see it’s cloudy and light rain is pattering outside. My stomach rumbles with hunger.

Stefan laughs. “Hungry?”

I am, but it’s strange to feel that gnawing and not think of Fabrizio’s delectable cooking.

Stefan must know what I’m thinking. “I’ll have to find us a new chef. I’ll make that a priority today.” He stands and puts on his watch.

I don’t know why he hasn’t asked, so I offer. “You know, I did go to culinary school. I may have concentrated on pastry, but I
am
a good cook.” I stand behind him and wrap my arms around his chest.

“Oh, you are, are you? Well, you’ll just have to audition your talents for me, then.”

The prospect excites me. “Are you sure?”

“You can cook for me, darling, but I won’t have my fiancée serve as the head chef of my estate. We can hire someone to do that. We
will
hire someone to do that.”

I muse over my useless culinary degree. “Remember when I told you I wanted to open a bakery?”

“You did?”

“Yes, I told you over dinner that night we went to Poggio Italiano, remember?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember. Was that a dream of yours?”

“It still
is
a dream of mine.”

“Darling, your every need is met here. You have no need to work for a living.”

“It’s not that I
need
to work I—”

“Let’s go down to the kitchen if you feel like cooking. I’m sure we can satisfy that need for you, darling.”

I give up trying to explain myself.

The house feels empty. It’s eerie. Bianca and Rocco are nowhere in sight. The rain falls outside, steady and constant.

Stefan and I walk into the kitchen.

The smell of bleach has faded. It’s barely noticeable.

I open the fridge and begin to rattle off a list of things I could make for dinner. Stefan leans on the counter and listens, picking grapes out of a bowl, and I feel his eyes on me as I bend down to look in the crisper. “I could make
pasta
fagioli
or a
puttanesca
sauce? There are some nice steaks in here, as well. Maybe with roasted potatoes? Or I could make chicken Florentine.” I look over my shoulder, and he’s smiling, his blue eyes shine with amusement. “What?”

“You are a very passionate woman, Carina. Passionate and eager to please. How about you make the
puttanesca
and some fresh garlic bread?”

“Is that all?”

“No. There is something else that I want.” He steps closer to me, close enough to touch me. He reaches out and slides his hand along my thigh, lifting the hem of my skirt. He has a hungry look on his face. “But I can’t quite remember what it was.” His hand goes higher. He brushes his fingertips against the top of my panties with a pleasing and light touch. “What was it?” He slips his hand between the fabric and my skin, and then he pushes his fingers inside me. “Oh, yes,” he says. “I want
this
.”

I moan, and he backs me in to the cold air of the open fridge.

He’s gentle with my tender lips at first, teasing them. My mouth is open, but he doesn’t kiss me. He just stares at my face, watching as I react to his touch.

I grab his shoulders to steady myself, but I blink, and then he’s on his knees.

This is the giving and amorous man I’m a slave to
.

He lifts my skirt and licks me with his ravenous mouth.

I hear the rain falling, and its perfume is earthy and fragrant as it floats through the open veranda doors.

I look down at him. His eyes are closed. He is working between my legs in a fury, and anyone could walk in and see me exposed. I should feel nervous, but I’m distracted by the pleasure he’s giving me. I begin to pant and my heart beats faster.

He rises and lifts me in his arms, grunting as he carries me to the kitchen table, and sets me down. He forces me to lie back, running his hands over my breasts as he does so.

I knock over the candles that were the centerpiece, and they roll off the table, smacking to the floor.

He buries his head between my legs again, sliding my thighs onto his shoulders, and licks and sucks at my flesh with ease.

I feel his tongue and hand inside me working in tandem with his succulent lips to make me come. Little white stars begin to appear in my field of vision as I gaze up at the ceiling. I want to moan, but I bite my lip to keep quiet. I don’t want to draw anyone’s attention to this room, but he’s making me feel so good. I wind my hands into his hair and pull on it in an effort to stifle my impulse to cry out, but this just seems to spur him on further. He slides his tongue everywhere, circling and consuming, and my legs begin to shake. I grip the tablecloth, balling it into my fists.

A plate, or something else, drops to the floor and shatters.

The loud sound is all I the incentive I need to give up my attempt at being quiet. “Ah! Stefan. That feels so good.”

He grips my thighs as he lays one final assault on my slick lips and swollen clit.

The white stars in my eyes become bursts of color as I moan through my thunderous climax.

As I start to come down from my high, he stands and looks down at my sweating, half-naked body splayed and spent on his kitchen table. I barely have the strength to move.

He smiles as he straightens his tie then he walks right out of the room.

I should get up
.

The tablecloth is destroyed. The fridge is wide open, as are my legs, and I see the broken glass on the floor.