Chapter 8 THEY'RE JUST YOUR STEPBROTHERS
~ELENA~
“You're a princess, my princess to be precise, and need to be treated as one” Riccardo says.
I blink twice.
Coming from Riccardo??
Woww.
What is up with these brothers??
“Ummm…” I stammer, seeking for an escape. “Let me just take the plates to the sink. I need to keep my hands busy.”
And before he can say anything again, I quickly snatch the plate and walk quickly into the kitchen, my heart thudding wildly.
I place the dish under the running water, trying to focus on the sound of it splashing rather than Riccardo's voice echoing in my ear.
I begin to rinse my plate when I hear a soft call from behind.
“Elena?”
I turn and see her…my mom.
She walks into the kitchen in her robe, looking elegant and fresh as always. Her hair is pinned up, and her makeup is minimal, but perfect.
“Good morning mom,” I greet her.
We don't have a good mother-daughter relationship, so things can be awkward between us.
“Did you sleep well??” She asks, reaching for a glance of orange juice.
I nod. “Yeah, it's fine.”
She glances at the boys, then lowers her voice as she steps closer to me.
“Have you settled in okay?” She asks.
I nod again, but I know she sees the tension in my shoulders. The unspoken war was going on inside my head.
She gives me a small, tight-lipped smile.
“Just remember why we're here, Elena. Lorenzo is offering us a better life. A safer one. But he's not someone you want to cross. Ever. He can be very dangerous” she warns.
Her voice drops even lower, and her eyes harden.
“And those boys…they're your stepbrothers now. Keep it that way.”
My breath hitches slightly, and for a second, I feel like a child again. Being scolded before I've even done anything wrong.
“I'm not…”
“I’m serious” she interrupts, tone sharp now. “They're dangerous in their own ways. And if Lorenzo even suspects anything appropriate, it won't end well. For either of us.”
Her warning chills me more than I'd like to admit.
She squeezes my arm and smiles again, like nothing just happened.
“Come upstairs when you're done, I'll help you unpack” she says aloud.
She turns and walks away, leaving me frozen by the sink, still clutching the glass.
Just then, I feel Nico's breath behind me.
“You okay??” He asks, his voice no longer playful.
I force a smile and nod. “Yeah…just trying to find my place here.”
He leans closer, his tone suddenly soft. “You don't have to try too hard. You already have our attention.”
I turn to him, and he's so close that I can smell the mint on his breath.
That dangerous, reckless part of me…the part that ignores all consequences, wants to lean in, just a little.
But I step back instead.
“You shouldn't say stuff like that,” I whisper.
He tilts his head. “Why not??”
“Because I might start believing it,” I tell him.
And believing it could ruin everything.
For both of us.
Later that afternoon, just as I am about to sleep, I hear a knock on the door.
I sigh.
Will I ever get to rest in this house?
Or have my own moment??
My mom just left my room a while ago. She came to help me unpack, but I am done unpacking.
Then she starts a small conversation with me and when she sees it isn't flowing, she leaves me all by myself.
I am grateful for it.
And now that I am about to sleep, I hear a knock on the door.
I groan.
“Who is that??” I call out.
There's no response.
Another knock.
“Who is that? You better answer or I won't get the door” I yell.
There's still no reply.
I relax back in my bed, ready to let the person knocking wait outside till he or she responds.
There is silence at the door for a moment, and just when I thought whoever was knocking is gone, I hear a knock again.
I groan, frustrated.
Whoever is knocking isn't willing to let me be till I open the door.
Reluctantly, I stand up from the bed, and walk to the door.
When I get to the door, I take a deep breath trying to calm my already rising anger.
Then I open the door and I am surprised to see who's standing at the door and knocking.
It's Vincenzo!!!
Vincenzo is standing at my door?? Of all people??
Unbelievable!!!
Why??
What does he want??
His broad frame fills the doorway. His expression is still cold, blank, distant and detached, and it looks like he's been forced to be here because he stands, hands in his pockets like someone who doesn't want to be here.
I roll my eyes.
If he didn't want to be here….
Why is he here then???
Did he get lost??
