Chapter 8
Grace's POV
I have no idea what time I finally managed to fall asleep, tormented by the endless questions swirling in my mind, but I know I woke up early. It must have been around six in the morning when Eleonor came into my room to wake me. Her expression was apologetic, as if she didn’t want to disturb me, but I knew she was only doing it because Elio had ordered her to keep me busy.
I dragged myself out of bed, went to the bathroom, and went through my morning routine. Once I was dressed in something comfortable, I joined Eleonor in the kitchen.
"How did you sleep?" Eleonor asked, handing me a steaming mug of coffee.
I could’ve told her the truth—that I barely slept at all, my mind too restless to find any peace. But I didn’t want to make her feel bad for waking me up. She was a good person, and I could tell she was just doing her job. It wasn’t her fault that Elio was the one calling all the shots around here.
"I slept fine, thanks," I lied with a small smile, taking a sip of the coffee. The warmth of it helped, even if it couldn’t ease the knot in my stomach.
"I'm glad to hear that," she responded kindly. "The padrone isn’t as bad as he seems, you know. He just doesn’t take kindly to betrayal."
"Uh-huh… and I just so happen to be the daughter of the betrayer," I muttered, bitterness seeping into my tone before I could stop it.
Eleonor remained silent for a few moments, and I immediately regretted taking my frustration out on her. She didn’t deserve that—she wasn’t the one who’d put me in this situation.
"These are just the circumstances, cara, but the padrone doesn’t hold anything against you. He only wants to teach your father a lesson," she said, her voice soft but firm, as if trying to reassure me.
A lesson. If that’s what Elio wanted, why didn’t he just let me go and get on with my life? Why did he feel the need to put my entire world on pause?
"Why do you call him padrone?" I asked, changing the subject. I didn’t want to dwell on Elio’s motivations anymore.
"It’s how I addressed his father when I served him. It’s a tradition," she explained.
Great. I thought I might have to start calling him padrone too. I’d rather bite my tongue off than refer to him as that.
"Alright," I replied, letting the conversation drop as I took another sip of coffee. "So, what do we need to do?"
Eleonor’s face brightened as if she were eager to get to work. "Enough chit-chat. We need to get started. The guards will be waking up soon, and they’ll come for breakfast. We have to be ready, especially since the padrone stayed the night here."
I froze at her words. "What do you mean, he stayed the night?"
"He usually doesn’t sleep here, but last night he stayed."
"Why?" I asked, a knot tightening in my chest.
"Who knows?" Eleonor shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. But her nonchalant attitude didn’t ease the unease bubbling inside me.
"What do you want me to do?" I asked, eager to keep my hands and mind busy—anything to avoid thinking too much about Elio.
"You’ll help me prepare breakfast, and then you’ll serve it to everyone. You’ll also serve the padrone when he joins us."
Fantastic. Just what I needed. My father always warned me that mafia guards were often less than polite to the help, sometimes making inappropriate suggestions. I wasn’t looking forward to testing that theory.
I could already feel the dread sinking in as I imagined Elio sitting at the head of the table, watching me as I served him. No doubt he would find a way to make the entire ordeal even more uncomfortable for me. The man seemed to take pleasure in keeping me on edge.
"Great," I muttered under my breath, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand.
Grace’s POV
Eleonor was right when she said we had to hurry with breakfast. Within half an hour, the dining area was swarming with guards, each taking a seat at the long table, waiting to be served. The food wasn’t ready yet, so Eleonor sent me to distract them until she could finish cooking.
I wanted to tell her that I didn’t want to do that. She would have understood, but then she’d be the one to face trouble with Elio, and I didn’t want that on my conscience. So, I did as she asked, stepping into the lion’s den.
Now, I found myself in a room full of men with no scruples, all armed to the teeth, and I was supposed to entertain them. Wonderful.
“I’m sorry for the wait. Breakfast will be ready in just a few minutes,” I announced, drawing the attention of every man in the room toward me.
Perfect. Exactly what I didn’t want.
A few of them started whispering in Italian, probably assuming I couldn’t understand. But thanks to my father’s insistence that I learn the language, I caught most of it. Others, meanwhile, were eyeing me like I was on the menu.
“No problem, sweetheart,” one of the men said, his tone almost soothing, as if trying to calm me down.
"Can I get you something to drink while you wait? Coffee? Or maybe tea?" I asked, hoping this small gesture would keep things civil.
Or maybe nothing, and I can go back to minding my own business, I thought but held my tongue.
“How about a piece of you?” another guard chimed in with a sleazy grin. “A good morning quickie always hits the spot.”
I barely managed to restrain myself from slapping him right there. The nerve!
“You couldn’t handle me,” I retorted simply, hoping to shut him up, and trying hard not to blush from the indecent suggestion.
I’d never even had a boyfriend before, so conversations like these were far out of my comfort zone.
The room erupted in laughter and cheers, much to the embarrassment of the man who had made the inappropriate comment.
“What’s all this noise so early in the morning?” Elio’s voice cut through the chatter from behind me. I turned, and just like that, the room fell silent.
“Good morning, Mr. Domenico,” I greeted him, trying to keep my tone neutral, though I noticed a muscle twitch in his jaw. Clearly, he didn’t appreciate the formal way I addressed him.
Elio took his seat at the head of the table, exuding the same commanding presence as always. Some of the men began praising me to Elio, telling him how I’d put the rude guard in his place. Eleonor gestured that the food was ready, and I quickly moved to bring the plates to the table. First, I placed Elio’s dish in front of him, then proceeded to serve the others. The whole time, I could feel Elio’s eyes fixed on me.
I tried not to tremble under his gaze, but just as I set a plate in front of the man who had spoken indecently earlier, he slapped me hard across the backside.
His action was unmistakable, and fury surged through me so fast that I didn’t even think. I slapped him across the face with all the strength I had.
The room fell deathly silent, and all I could hear was the rush of blood in my ears as my anger boiled over.
“In my office. Now,” Elio commanded, his voice low and dangerous. Without a word, I turned on my heel and headed toward his office, not waiting for him to follow.
“If you’re planning to scold me for what I did…” I began as soon as I entered the room, “…I don’t care. No one has the right to treat a woman like that.” My words tumbled out in a rush, defiance lacing every syllable.
Elio raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression. “You’ve got some nerve, Grace. I’ll give you that. I didn’t call you here to reprimand you. In fact, I admire that you didn’t back down. I’m curious… what else can you do?”
“I don’t understand,” I replied, frowning.
“You will… in time,” he said cryptically, leaning back in his chair. “For now, go and help Eleonor.”
“Then why call me in here?” I asked, still confused.
“To get you away from that idiot. Doesn’t matter,” he dismissed casually.
Wait, what? He brought me here to protect me? Why? What’s his reason for doing that? The questions swirled in my mind again, but I knew better than to push for answers now. I simply nodded and turned to leave, still trying to figure out what his angle was.