There was a long and terse silence in which everyone—besides me—looked bored and somewhat exasperated but with a tinge of apprehension as if it wasn’t the first time Antonio had made such an offer to his brother but even then they could not know for sure how he would react this time.
And as for me, well it would be fair for me to state that while there were young girls and women who had suffered fates far worse than my current one, I had every right to say that those simple words were possibly one of the most terrifying things to hear because he talked about me as if I was not human but a mere object, a new and interesting possession he wanted to showcase to his family.
It made me feel as though I was going to drown in disgust intermingled with a great amount of terror.
Antonio’s eyes pinned me to the chair, rendering me incapable of thought or even movement as I felt my chest burning but could not get myself to take in that much needed breath. The seconds ticked by at a pace so slow it felt like I was moving too fast but in reality I knew none of that was true.
In the quiet room a single and tired sigh suddenly came out of someone’s lips and floated in the air lightly slowly being lost in the rippling tension and dissipating it.
It took me a second to realize it had come from Nicholas who was now leaning back on his chair head tilted back as he rubbed his temple; he had abandoned—or simply put aside—his manners as a gentleman clearly showing his annoyance.
Before I could wonder what would make Nicholas of all people abandon his gentlemanly manners, the eldest Velastro brother—Alessandro—spoke.
When he spoke, he spoke in Italian, as though he did not find me worthy of him changing from his beautiful and lilting mother tongue to English, as though I was not worth his acknowledgement.
The complete dismissal shredded any hope of mercy I might have thought he could grant me.
Even with the barrier of a different language, I could hear that the oldest brother's level voice carried with it slivers of tamed and sharpened anger; it made my skin crawl.
“Yes, yes, I’ve heard you before...but fratello, look at those eyes, they’re gorgeous.” Antonio said, cutting his brother off.
He was fluent in English as he was with Italian, something my brain hadn't acknowledged before and I realized that it meant that they dealt with people outside of their country a lot for them to be so fluent in English.
His request/instruction for his brother to look at my eyes was—unfortunately for me—was not ignored but instead followed by nearly everyone around the table.
Despite feeling their eyes on me mine remained on the steel greys of Alessandro. I could not look away no matter how much I kept screaming at myself to do it.
At last he looked away from me to his brother—Antonio—and said something in Italian that did not please Antonio in the least judging by the way his eyes darkened, somehow changing the hazel to a light brown.
With each Italian word that Alessandro spoke the tension in the room thickened, more so when replied—in Italian—as well.
Soon it became clear why Nicholas had been annoyed because from the look on everyone else's face—which varied from boredom, annoyance, exasperation and anger—it was clear that it was not the first time this sort of argument took place.
Unlike everyone else, the fight between the two brothers made me uncomfortable having me hoping I could just shrink and disappear. Unknowingly, my eyes drifted to Nicholas just in time to see his eye move from me to the plate in front of him.
I could clearly see the tick on his temple as he clenched his jaw before he snapped and shouted one Italian word that I could guess to be ‘enough’ and silence again dominated the room.
Nicholas continued to say something curt addressing it to the entirety of his family before calling out something and soon after four servants walked in with carts.
Nicholas shifted his gaze to me his eyes soft as he smiled gently. “Please excuse my brothers they sometimes forget their manners.”
He looked pointedly at his older brother but his tone remained soft while speaking to me. After the four servants—two male, two female—had finished setting up the plates with food foreign to my eyes Nicholas smiled reassuring me and began to eat… as did I.
YOU ARE READING
Rooted from Betrayal
ActionI would have had a normal life, with mundane problems and simple joys. I would have started practicing as a general doctor by the age of 24 with intentions of specializing and later becoming a neurosurgeon. I would have lived a normal life far from...
