A Deal With The Devil | Ben Barnes | Sebastian Stan

Chapter 4

Francesca

There is a painting called The Massacre of the Innocents that belongs to Peter Paul Rubens. He painted this scene in several occasion during the years, but the one that always caught my attention was his first one on which he worked on between 1611 and 1612. In it, Rubens illustrates an infanticide, having soldiers slaying innocents. The central-piece of the painting is a woman that, dressed in a blood-red dress, is trying to save her child by fighting with one of those soldiers.

The painting is incredibly beautiful in its horrific depiction of such an event. But what's really impressive, the thing that left a mark on my soul is the accuracy with which Rubens managed to paint the pain of all those women and children. Their desperation and grief are so well portrayed that you can feel it yourself, deep down your soul.

The women are visibly so anguished, but at the same time so determined to save their loved ones that it makes you admire them in a feral way. It makes you wonder if you could do the same. If you can really accept the pain that comes from loving someone. Because you can't have one without the other.

If someone would ask me how I felt in that moment, I would've showed them a photo of this painting. I was feeling the same kind of desperation, the same grief as all those women. I was about to save the ones I love by offering my pain in return.

I still had had some grain of a hope that this situation could somehow change and I could escape this fate. That was until Matteo pulled his car in front of our jewelry store and me and my family climbed inside, willingly letting him drive us away to meet the Rossi's.

Tonight, we were about to have the so-called engagement dinner, held, of course, at that monastery they call home. We were dressed in some of our best outfits, but all our faces looked like we were going to attend a funeral. My father was sitting in the front seat, next to Matteo, while me, Erico and my mother were seated in the back of the car.

My brother was still deeply hurt by my gesture, refusing to find a way to understand. He hasn't addressed me a word since I told him that I was going to marry Luca.

I haven't shed a tear since that day either. Something inside of me seemed to have shut down. I was feeling incredibly lost and I could no longer imagine my life past this moment, I could not dream of the future anymore. The only thing that mattered was my family's safety. Other than that, I had nothing to wish for.

No one spoke during the ride. No one smiled. No one laughed.

At one moment, Matteo tried to start a conversation with my father, he even tried to joke with us, but he only got himself a sharp look from my brother so he stopped trying.

When we finally arrived to the destination, the grandeur of the place hit me again. I could not deny the fact that this old monastery was a piece of art in its own way. The secrets it probably hid...

I looked at my family and noticed that they were as impressed as I was, well, except from my father who has been here more than once and did no longer care to admit that in hell you could also find beauty.

We all followed Matteo inside the house and I remarked that this time he didn't use the same path as he did when I first came here. My guess was that this time he was using the official entrance, the one destined for the family and probably important guests.

I didn't have the chance to look at the surroundings because I was obsessively looking at Erico. His hand kept going to his pocket, he was constantly reaching for his phone and I didn't know if it was because he wanted to take pictures of this place or because he had something else in mind, something that could turn this dinner into a bloody mess.