Loving Marcello

Chapter Post-Eleven

(A/N: Yes there's a time jump, it's been one night, this is the next morning. It'll hopefully make more sense the more you read it).

°•°•°

I don't know how I found myself here, but my mouth drops open as I study every detail.

Marcello managing to lure me to his house was a success, but only because he told me it'd be more worth seeing than anything else in Italy. I keep telling myself that him finding me on the sidewalks of Italy and somehow getting me to follow him around is a coincidence, but it's hard to keep convincing my brain that when my brains the one telling me that he's a sketchy motherfucker that I need to avoid.

I snap back into the present moment when he tugs my arm. I focus my eyes back onto luxurious sofas and a chandelier. A giant TV is propped to the side, looking almost unused.

"How could you afford a place like this?" I ask, almost breathless.

"I have connections." He brushes my awe off and leads me down a long hall.

He rushes almost too quickly for me to be able to soak in any details. All I catch is a dark wallpaper with swirly designs. His ceiling lights glow brightly, illuminating big amounts off the hall at a time.

"I have a couple people to introduce you to as well." He informs, keeping a brisk pace.

"Are they nice? I don't want to meet anyone else like you or anything. No offense, but I can only handle one of you at a time." I tell him, hoping the jab at him wouldn't make him unnecessarily mad.

All I get is a scowl, "Follow me."

"There's no point in telling me to do something that I'm already doing y'know." I roll my eyes, then focus onto the back of his head.

His shoulders stiffen, in what I assume is annoyance, then he adds speed to his already fast pace.

I just huff and continue following him like a lost puppy dog.

°•°•°•°•°

After an awkwardly silent walk, we swing around a corner to a small group of people huddled together. Their hushed voices whisper erratically, but come to a stop when they see us walking toward them.

"Meet Marie and Lucy, my maids, and Antonio, Dante, and Grier, my...well, I like to think of them as my guards." Marcello explains briefly. "I thought that you'd like to get to know some people here in Italy, you mentioned that you were a bit lonely."

Marcello...being nice? There's got to be a catch.

"Oh, well that's uncharacteristically sweet of you." I narrow my eyes at him, but realize that I might have come off as rude to ignore their introduction like that.

"Oh yea! I'm Brimmy, it's really nice to meet y'all." I perk up excitedly, shaking all their hands.

"It's nice to meet you too." Marie speaks for the group, giving me a light smile. The sparkle in her eye encourages me to step forward, toward them and away from Marcello.

"So, what do you guys do for fun around here?" I ask, propping a hand to my hip.

"Antonio, Dante, and Grier are coming with me." Marcello interrupts.

The men straighten up and move to Marcello's side like guard dogs. Which I guess is what they are, but something about it still doesn't seem right.

I scoff, but keep my mouth shut.

°•°•°•°

After Marcello escorts his guards down the halls, Marie and Lucy look to me.

"You guys don't have to hang out with me if you don't want to, Marcello is full of shit." I blurt.

Lucy's eyes widen slightly, but she quickly regains a neutral expression.

"No, we'd love to spend time with you." Marie grins, "Let's go to the garden."

"No, not the garden." Lucy says fearfully, "He doesn't like it when we go in the garden."

"Who? Marcello?" I question, to which Lucy nods. "Well in that case. I agree with Marie, let's go to the garden."

Lucy shoots Marie a concerned look, but Marie doesn't acknowledge it.

"I think I'll stay here and wipe the mirror in the dining area, boss mentioned it yesterday." Lucy puts her head down and bolts away like a mouse.

"Sheesh, I knew Marcello was a dick, but I didn't know someone would be that scared of him." I mutter.

"You'd be surprised." Marie tells me, looking excited.

"I'm sure I would be, now lead me to this garden you speak of." I say with a posh accent and hold me arm out for her.

She doesn't hesitate to take my arm in hers and lead me to the garden.

•••

"Marie?" I ask as we approach the garden.

"Yes, madam?" She replies.

"I don't know if this is rude to ask, but why doesn't Marcello like you guys in the garden?"

She gives a thoughtful look, "The garden means a lot to him. He maintains it and likes to keep it private. My room is right above the garden, there," she points to a window on the second story of the house, "sometimes I see him pacing around the garden for hours at nighttime."

"Then maybe Lucy was right, if the garden is private to him, then we shouldn't go in." I come to a halt.

"No silly, we're not going in, we're simply walking around. I wouldn't dare go in, only a fool with a death wish would." Marie smiles before leading me around the garden, pointing out the limited view of flowers.

I peer up at the sky, noticing the sun is slowly illuminating less and less of the garden. Dark storm clouds, seemingly appearing out of no where, blanket the sky and cover more of the sun with each passing second.

Marie seems to notice as well by the "Uh oh" She mutters.

"We should go inside." Her expression is one of worry. She pulls me toward the house, in a hurry.

"No need to rush, it's just rain." I furrow my brow and pull on her arm so we're not speed walking.

"No, we need to be weary of storms like these, especially with the season." She tugs us back into a speed walk.

"Should I go home?" I ask just as rain begins pouring down on us. It pellets at our bodies with enough force to sting.

"I think you should stay here, it's difficult to get anywhere in this." She raises her voice as the volume of the rain grows louder.

"Ouch, I see why you wanted to hurry to get inside now." I walk faster.

It hits my skin like I'm reaching an arm outside a speeding car in a down pour. A thousand beads pounding at me is enough encouragement to sprint. Which is what I do.

Both Marie and I are soaked by the time we reach the house.

My soggy clothes stick to my body uncomfortably.

If I'm stuck here, what am I supposed to change into?

I give a sigh a begin wringing out the edges of my shirt.

This chapter was written to cover up a time jump in chapter 12 that got a lot of backlash, so I apologize if there's any errors with the plot.