“Brava. I’ll prepare lunch.”
After lunch,which I ate with wild abandon, Paolo left me alone, and I found myself drifting off. I was stuffed full. The dining room of the townhouse was just as dark and Gothic as the rest of the place, but in here, deep-emerald velvet chairs and huge, jewel-hued threaded tapestries covered the walls. The gigantic dining table gleamed under the wintry light flooding in through the long windows. A whole wall was framed with Juliet balconies, and I could have stayed and gazed out at the white city streets of Torino all day as the snow fell. It was the most majestic city view I’d ever seen, despite having lived in this very city for many years. My neighborhood was nearer the bottom of the hills, much closer to Hallow Hall. It had taken three buses to get into the city center, while I’m sure Paolo could amble along the gracious sidewalks to the markets and shops in a few minutes. It was a level of wealth and luxury that I’d never experienced. Massimo Lucciano might not actually be from the underworld, but he was certainly from a different tax bracket.
“How was your lunch?” Paolo asked as he brought me an espresso.
I just stared at it for a long moment before reaching out to take it.
“I could make you something else,” he started, seeming doubtfulabout breaking the unofficial Italian rule of only drinking espresso after eating lunch.
“No, this is perfect. I just think that maybe I haven’t had one for a long time.” I lifted the tiny cup to my face and breathed in deeply.
A hit of caramel and toasted nuts, then bittersweet dark cocoa from the deep roast.
I took a sip and closed my eyes, enjoying every second of the smoky sweetness.
A soft chuckle pulled me from my reverie.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone enjoy a simple coffee so much,” Paolo remarked. “Most people forget to enjoy the little things. They become commonplace and worthless.”
“Not worthless,” I mused. “Forgotten. People forget all sorts of things. I didn’t aways lose my mind over coffee. Like I said, I think it’s been a while.”
Paolo crossed himself dramatically. “A life without coffee?Che peccato!How is it possible?”
A soft meow saved me from having to explain why I had no idea when the last time was that I drank coffee. I glanced down, and my heart melted. A black cat was winding around my ankles.
“Nox, don’t bother your new mistress,” Paolo reprimanded the magnificent black beast.
I crouched beside him.
“He’s not! I love cats,” I enthused. Nox. The Latin name for night, and this boy personified night... just like his owner, Massimo. Dark and dangerous looking, so graceful and aloof it bordered on cruel, inhuman beauty. But then Nox butted my hand forcefully, demanding attention and head scratches.
“Don’t say that around Massi. He already brings home any bedraggled strays he finds outside. You’d think we were running theworld’s most expensive cat shelter.” Paolo’s sniff made his distaste known.
Massi. Paolo’s approval for his boss was clear. The stern and terrifyingly intimidating man from this morning who’d assured me that he was actually saving me, not harming me, by keeping me here filled my head.
My heart melted a bit more, and a twinge of discomfort moved within it. Massimo collected strays. Was I just another stray to him? A damsel who needed saving? What did he want in return for his help? Was I another charity case to him? Wasn’t I a charity case in general? I didn’t even remember the last few days, or months. I could hardly afford to indulge in hurt pride right now. Anxiety clamped its steely hand around my throat.
Nox was a sweetheart, rubbing around me and purring loudly. I stroked his sleek coat and tried to put my worries out of my head.
“Pax is jealous. She’s shier, but she’s my favorite,” Paolo said.
I followed his gaze to the stunning cat sitting on top of the sideboard situated across from the dramatic windows. She was white as the moon, with deep golden eyes. It was clear she was a girl. There was something delicate and feminine about her mannerisms as she straightened up and assessed me.
Gravy, I hope he’s okay. The image of a little moth-eared cat filled my mind.
The name and image came to me suddenly. The thought was so natural and effortless, I knew he was real. I stood, my heart suddenly racing. Was I remembering things? I remembered Gravy, the stray. But where had I met him?
“If you’re finished, I need to run out to the supermarket before it closes for dinner. I suggest a nap, after everything you’ve been through.”
I let Paolo lead me upstairs.
“You wouldn’t happen to know what that was and feel like filling me in, do you?”
Paolo patted my hand, tucked into the nook of his elbow.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’ll come when you’re ready to know.”
We got to the room I’d woken up in. The one that took up the entire top floor. Lavish didn’t begin to cover it. The tub in the bathroom looked like one that ancient Roman emperors used to bathe in. It only added to the mystery of the man who had taken it upon himself to care for me here, in this otherworldly house.