C8 Chapter 8

Arrival in Venice

Venice, what a beautiful city! Its landscapes make me forget this nightmare that I am living. Her beauty is the reason that brings a smile to my face as a limousine takes us to Lucas's house. "Can you imagine living here?" he asks me, and I must turn to see him.

I look at his face and try to figure out what that question means, but I can't understand him.

"The place is beautiful, but no. I love my city; I love its warmth, the sea, and being close to my father," I say firmly and turn my gaze to the window.

I can't allow him to take me away from the only thing left of my life. That is not an option.

"What a shame," he says, and I don't even want to look at him. I'm afraid he might convince me of something else.

I don't understand what he meant by that, but I prefer to avoid asking him. I have already understood that he will never answer any of my doubts.

[...]

The limo enters what appears to be a mansion. I am speechless by the beauty of the property. "I thought it would be in front of a canal and that we were going to have to use a boat to get there," I comment when I see the beautiful house, if I can call it like that.

"Not all properties are like this, at least not in this region," he explains with a half-smile.

"I understand," I reply, and I continue to admire the Venetian architecture outside the house.

The driver parks the limousine and opens the door for us. Once Lucas gets out of the limo, he offers me his hand. With a bit of hesitation, I accepted his help, "You don't have to pretend to be nice," I say as I get out of the limo and adjust my dress. His gaze travels my body in an unsettling way.

"Remember our deal," he says firmly while holding my arm, "you will be kind to me, and I will be to you," he says. I nod.

"As long as there are people around," I clarify.

"Of course," he agrees, "Come, let's go in and please smile or at least take my hand," He asks me, and I reluctantly accept that he holds my hand.

His fingers caress my hand in a way that sends an electric current throughout my body, causing sensations in me that I refuse to feel. I do not want his presence or touch to alter me in any possible way. I have to suppress these strange feelings.

We walk towards the imposing entrance of the house. The enormous wooden door opens before he says anything "Benvenuto signore e signora Sandonini!" says a man in a suit.

"Grazie Filipo! Dove sono i miei genitori? Lucas asks, speaking with an accent that I try not to affect me. I fully understand that he is asking about his parents.

"Loro sono nel Giardino" he explains, and Lucas smiles at him kindly.

"Follow me. Don't worry about the luggage; the staff will take it to our room," he tells me.

Did he say our room? Has he gone crazy?

"I will not sleep with you in the same room," I inform him in a firm tone as I stop my walk in the middle of the room.

His solemn gaze catches mine, and I try to maintain my posture. "We are newlyweds; we cannot come to my parents' house and say that we will sleep in separate rooms," Lucas explains to me in a tone of voice that leaves me no point of discussion.

"Well, you'll sleep on the floor because I will not share the bed with you," I speak, and he begins to laugh.

"Do you have any idea how many women want to lie with me in the same bed? he asks me. "However, don't worry, I'm not going to share it with you either. I'll sleep on the davenport in the room." Lucas explains, and I don't know whether to feel triumphant at having gotten what I wanted or to feel humiliated because he rubbed in my face the women behind him and the fact that he is not interested in me.

I try not to show what I feel. I try to be strong.

"I do not care how many women want to sleep with you. However, I will tell you something," I warn him taking a step towards him and looking into his eyes. "While we are married, you will not sleep with anyone else. I will not be the idiot to whom his husband cheats with any woman, "I explain firmly.

If I'm going to have a bad time, he will too.

"You can't demand anything of me!" He challenges me and shortens the distance.

"I can, and I will, as long as those documents say that I'm your wife; I can demand what I want," I tell him, not caring how little distance there is between the two.

"Really?" He asks, smiling.

"Yes!" I answer without flinching.

"Then I can make demands too," He manifests, and without further ado, he takes me by the waist and begins to kiss me.

What is this? Why does he kiss me if he doesn't love me? Am I not supposed to be part of his revenge?