Falling for Deceit || WATTYS 2017

20

When the first taste of the tomato and meat sauce hit my tongue, my first instinct was to moan. God, I'd never tasted anything so wonderful, so divine-

And then the cramping hit.

After I'd swallowed a forkful of pasta I had to drop the utensil and set the plate aside to double over, clutching my stomach. I heard a rustle of the sheets behind me, and then a strong hand found my back, rubbing up and down. When my mind comprehended whom it belonged to through the pain, the shock was enough to divert me slightly. But then another wave of nausea, and even as Marco swung his strong legs over the bed to sit beside me and cradle my head against his shoulder, it wasn't enough to make the horrendous nausea fade. At the thought of never being able to stomach food, wasting away like a withering leaf, my breath caught and the tears welled in my eyes. My little brother would be alone, oh Dio, he would be alone-

"This is most likely the last thing you want to do," Marco's deep and soothing voice flowed into my mind. I tilted my head to look up at his usually cold ones. But something else was shining in them this time, something - foreign. It was the need to comfort. Wasn't it? He placed the fork in between his agile fingers of his left hand, holding his right one against my back as he righted me. My eyes widened as he brought the fork closer to my lips. Just the thought of stomaching any of that although delicious slice of heaven made me want to throw up the remains of that soup from earlier. "But you have to keep eating it. At least half. Come on, signorina," he prompted as I began to shake my head with shaking limbs. "Fight through it. Don't give up." The sound of those simple words suddenly cut through me like blades. Cowardice. I was not a coward. Pushing down a gulp and raising my chin, I slowly opened my mouth. A sort of approving rumble growled in Marco's chest, and that alone spurred me on to keep my lips parted. "There we go," he murmured before gradually sliding the fork into my mouth. I closed my lips around it and his eyes stared at me as he held the fork in place. Then, slowly, I pulled the pasta free and swallowed. It went down my throat slowly, torturously slow, but finally, it was down. I let out a breath of relief as I fought through nausea, feeling Marco's strong hand glide up and down my back. "There we go," he murmured again. The sensation of utter victory brought a relieved laugh from me, and even as Marco twirled another strand of pasta around the fork, I kept laughing, the convulsions going through me. He had a small smile on his lips as his burning amber eyes stayed fixated on my face, and brought the fork up to me again. This kept on going six times, and by then the plate was half-full. But my stomach had no more room, and as I felt drowsiness roll over me, I had the irrevocable urge to sleep again. It had been so long since my belly had been completely full, and even though it was far from the goal which I wished to attain, it was a start. 

Marco set the plate back on the bedside table and gently rolled me onto my back, placing me against the pillows. I went over to my side with a happy sigh as he brought the silky sheets over my depleted body, not even thinking about what was happening for a second. But I should have because soon, I would regret even letting him see the tiniest glimmer of my deepest vulnerabilities. "I'm going out," his voice went into my thoughts. "I'll be back, signorina," he finished. I mumbled back an incoherent reply as sleep gripped the reigns. I hardly felt the soft brush of lips on my forehead as the darkness consumed me. 

-

The soft, hesitant knock on the door ripped me straight out of the slumber and I shot up in the bed, gripping the sheets with fright. Then, as the knocking sounded again, more firmly, with a small voice that followed, I let out a breath and released them. "Miss? Miss, are you in there?" 

"Come in," I spoke up, and then the door opened. Cornelia, the lovely maid with her smooth chocolate skin and dark, knotted-back hair walked in, pushing a golden cart in front of her. She looked up and jumped slightly with surprise. 

"Oh, it's you," she exclaimed, wide eyes sparkling with shock. I tilted my head with a small, confused smile. 

"Did you not expect me when you came in here?" I asked softly, regarding her with kind eyes. She blushed an adorable slight shade of pink and lowered her eyes, fumbling with whatever was on the top of the cart. 

"Mrs. Green told me that I was to wait on a woman, but I never heard a name. I've just been transferred here with the group of maids from the hotel."

"So was I," I filled in. "Tell me," I abruptly let out and she raised her head. "Have you seen anything of Vincent lately?" Her eyes widened and I thought that I saw that blush grow more pronounced. 

"The chauffeur?" she asked in a small voice. I smiled widely and nodded.

"Yes, that's him." 

"Um... no. We don't really speak much, and the Family has done an awful lot of driving around lately." 

"Oh." I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice, and after a moment's awkward silence, Cornelia began pushing the cart towards the bed. "What time is it?" I asked her politely, looking around for a clock but finding none. She started unlocking a big, leather-covered box on the top of the tray. 

"It's a quarter past six, Miss," she reverently replied. 

"Please, call me Tony," I reassured her. But I felt the astonishment at hearing the time. I had been sleeping for five hours. 

Where was Marco? 

I shook my head immediately after thinking of that, feeling foolish. Just because of what happened, it didn't mean that I was suddenly entitled to know everything about him. He was still my superior, and the co-leader of the Beretti mafia Family, and what had transpired between us - whatever it was - could not be repeated. As much as I hated to admit it, it was unprofessional and wrong. And it was a dangerous distraction. But I asked anyway. "Where is Mr. Beretti?" 

"He's been out for five hours, Miss - uh, Tony," she replied softly, and when she looked up at me, lifting the box's cover, I forced a grateful smile. However, the disappointment welled in me as sure as a punch to the stomach, and I did not want it in the least. But it was there all the same. 

"I'll be back, signorina." That was what he had said. But he was not. 

Cazzo. I was being stupid again. 

To divert my attention I hastily unfolded the covers from my body and rose up from the bed. When I straightened, I was surprised and relieved at the same time to sense no dizziness at the movement. A small smile played on my lips as I recalled Marco feeding me. No. 

Mr. Beretti. 

My smile immediately dropped and I looked away, suddenly ashamed of myself, even though Cornelia couldn't read my thoughts. I diverted my attention to the golden cart, and because it was the first time that I was actually paying proper attention to it, my eyes widened. Row after row of products was lined up on the bottom tray, and on the top, Cornelia had just brought out a long, silver, ruffled gown. "What is this?" I murmured, gazing over the beautiful display of eccentric things that I would never have thought in my past life would ever be attainable to me. Just like the mascaro that Reina had applied on my lashes that night of the ball, these things were frivolous and unimportant compared to the harsh reality of life, but still, they held some sort of feminine pull that attracted me like a magnet. 

"Mrs. Green sent me up to help you dress for tonight," Cornelia answered, ever so politely with that sweet tone of hers. I cocked my head to the side in confusion, directing my eyes to her as she laid out the silver gown on the bed carefully and as delicately as if it were a china doll. 

"Whatever for?" 

She glanced up at me, obviously confused that I hadn't been informed of whatever it was that was going on. "You are to dine with the Beretti Family tonight."

-

A/N: So how did you like that? Sorry, it wasn't as long as usual, but the next one will be very interesting I assure you ;-)

Until the next!

-xoxo, Sophia