30. Chapter Thirty

I stare down at the papers in front of me. Today is the last day this will be my decision, and I'm not convinced enough to sign them.

I don't see a point. Ultimately, this isn't my choice either way. Signing them willingly does nothing but show my weakness. It shows Enzo that he's getting to me. And though I am trying to gain his trust, I don't think this is the way to do it. Signing these may hurt me somehow down the line. It's too risky. So I put the pen down and push the papers away.

For the first time in a week, they've been moved. Funny because nothing has changed. They've stayed on the table for seven days, and each time I noticed them, they looked more and more like poison. But these papers don't matter. They mean nothing. I'm stuck here whether I like it or not. Whether I agree or not. Whether they're signed by me or not.

I will be Enzo's wife. I'll no longer be a Delise, but a Bramante.

Jordan Bramante.

At least it sounds good.

Ugh, I hate that.

I poke at my scrambled eggs, moving them around on the plate. I've eaten half my food but know better than to get up without clearing it. Bernice the babysitter is lingering in the kitchen, watching me like the trained guard dog she is.

Is that how Enzo expects me to be? Does he want me to listen as well as she does, all the time? There's no way that will ever happen.

I haven't seen Enzo since the movie theater incident last night. The incident that hasn't stopped haunting me. Part of me hates I let him do it. Part of me wants more. All the while, my head is telling me this is good. It's part of the plan. Use my body to get him to trust me, and when he least expects it, leave. This is good. He was so willing to touch me in the theater. He didn't hesitate. He enjoyed it. How is he making this so easy for me? I mean, if all I have to do is let the man please me now and then, it's simple. I didn't even have to try.

In fact, he's the one trying. He's the one trying to convince me to stay. It's almost like he wants me to. Well, of course he does; he paid for me. But something about last night made it seem like more. Or maybe that's the game he's playing. Either way, I have to stick to mine.

Currently, the only thing Enzo is forcing me into is this marriage and staying here. Not sex. Not children. That's a plus. This could be much worse.

The mafia?

I've seen plenty of movies to know what they do to women. Enzo is taking it easy on me. Not something I should have to be grateful for, but with the situation I find myself in, I am grateful for it.

I glance at those papers again…

What if signing them makes him trust me? I can't see how it would. If anything, it'll make him wary of me. Why did I change my mind so fast? He was hesitant enough at dinner the other day when I was being nice. Signing these papers will not help me. I pick them up and flip them over. I'm done looking at them. He can do what he needs to do. I want no part of it.

I quickly finish my food, bring my dish to the sink, scowl at Bernice, and head to my room to get my bathing suit so I can drown my sorrows in the hot tub.

The brand-new hot tub Enzo bought. I'm not sorry about it. Not for a second. I had a meltdown—it happens. Oh well. I should have done worse. Should have done more. Maybe one day I will. Guess we'll have to see where this lame marriage takes me.

What I need to focus on is changing my mindset. I need to stop being angry about being here and fall into the role of Enzo's wife. Get close to him. Make him trust me. Make him care about me. I have no idea how I'm supposed to do this, but I'm going to try. Having a relaxing day in the in-home spa is a good place to start. Making myself want to be here isn't easy.

It was easy when he was between your legs.

Yeah. Yeah, it was.

I quickly change into my bathing suit and spot Rafael when I reach the stairs.

"Thought you were leaving?"

"Thought you got all your information from the babysitter?" he quips back as we move down the steps, side by side.

"I've been avoiding her."

He nods and says, "My trip was postponed. I'm leaving in a few days."

"How come?"

"Because my brother was visiting with my mother, and I don't want to see him."

Must be nice to have choices.

I'm bitter over this. More so than I should. Why is it Rafael gets to do what he wants, but I can't? I have to remember this isn't his fault. He has no say in this.

"Well, have a safe trip," I mutter and make my way around the staircase to go to the spa down the hall.

I push the glass door inward, and I'm hit with a wave of warm air that smells like a mix of chlorine, mint, and lavender.

I turn the hot tub jets on, get in, and settle into a corner seat, where one of the jets pounds on my lower back. We didn't have a hot tub at home, and I hate that I've missed so many years of this. It feels so good.

I wonder if I'd have asked my father to turn one of the rooms into a spa, if he would have. He probably would. He gave me everything I wanted.

Why did he do that?

I always thought it was because he loved me. He wanted me to be happy.

Now? I'm not so sure my father loved me at all.

How do you sell someone you love? And so easily. My father didn't put up an argument with Enzo. He told me what was happening and let it happen. That was the end of it. He didn't even say goodbye. He wasn't there when Enzo carried me out of the house. He didn't try to stop him. He made a deal, and that was that.

Did he love me at all?

The thoughts have my chest aching, so I push them away. I'm here to relax, to clear my head, not make me hate my life more. And thinking about my father? That's exactly how it makes me feel.