Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
She had a funny way of showing it.
My dad didn’t say anything. He listened to the conversation and ate the meal Dante prepared for him.
“What brought you to Italy?” my mother asked.
I couldn’t picture myself going along with this fable for the next decade. I would have to keep these lies in check anytime I was around my family. And then I couldn’t be seen with other women because it would seem like I was a cheater…and my family would be extremely disappointed in me if they saw that. The idea of being with another woman hadn’t even crossed my mind since I met Muse, but that wasn’t the point. She was the prisoner, and I was the master. How could I let her flip it on me? Now, I was at her mercy. I could never let my family know what really happened between Muse and me. My mother would never forgive me if she knew Muse was just a prisoner in my mansion. And the disappointment from my father would kill me.
“I’d always wanted to be a model for Barsetti Lingerie, so I left New York in pursuit of my dream. I met Conway, and he took a chance on me.” Muse wove this story so well. It was a bunch of bullshit, but she managed not to incriminate herself. Both of my parents saw through bullshit pretty easily, but neither one of them seemed to catch on to this. It was probably because they assumed if I ever owned up to a relationship with someone, she must be the one…since I never had relationships.
She had me under her thumb.
“Will you continue to be in the shows?” Mom asked.
I refused to participate in this conversation, so I didn’t say anything.
“Conway is a little bit jealous when it comes to me, so he took me out of his lineup.” She stared at me across the table, a knowing smile on her lips.
“Aww…” My mom’s eyes softened. “Just like his father.”
Fuck, this was bad.
If I didn’t change the subject, it would just continue. My mom and sister were already infatuated with the woman they thought I was in love with, and the longer I let it go on, the worse it would get. “Vanessa, how’s the painting going?”
“Great,” Vanessa said. “We started doing watercolors this week, and I love it. I didn’t think I would love anything more than traditional oil painting, but all the colors and the drips really fascinate me.”
“Have you made anything?” It was the first time my father spoke.
“I just finished my first painting this week,” Vanessa answered.
“I’d love to see it.” My father went out of his way to be invested in everything we did. He obviously didn’t care about art whatsoever, but he made it clear he cared about whatever his daughter cared about.
“I’ll show it to you,” Vanessa said. She turned back to Muse. “Do you know about the stunt my brother pulled a few weeks ago?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Shut it, Vanessa.”
Muse grinned. “You have to tell me now.”
“Alright.” Vanessa set her napkin down. “So I went on a date with this nice guy I go to school with…”
My dad suddenly stopped eating, setting down his fork and reaching for his scotch right away. There hadn’t been a single boy who ever came to the house as long as Vanessa lived there. Not even for school dances. When it came to my sister dating, my father turned into a different person.
“And Conway watched us have dinner from across the street, followed us as he walked me home, and stood in the shadows as we said goodnight on the doorstep. Then he followed the guy for a few blocks.” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “That’s the kind of man you live with, just in case you didn’t know…”
When Muse turned to look at me, she didn’t regard me with the same coldness my sister did. It was the softest expression she’d ever given me. She actually seemed touched by what my sister said.
Yes, I wasn’t an asshole all the time.
“He’s such a psychopath,” Vanessa said. “A complete breach of privacy.”
“I don’t give a damn.” I drank my scotch to kill the nerves. “There are a lot of assholes out there, Vanessa. You don’t know that because I’ve made sure you’ve never met one. There are—”
“Enough.” My father’s voice was quiet, but it was filled with so much anger. He finished his scotch and set the empty glass on the table.
Even Vanessa shut her mouth.
Muse eyed my father but didn’t say another word.
I knew exactly why my father ended the conversation. He’d told me what happened to his sister, Vanessa’s namesake. It never stopped haunting him, even now. He protected my sister every second of the day before she moved out, and he didn’t even realize it. As the man’s oldest son, it was my responsibility to take care of our family if something happened to him, so he dropped the burden on my shoulders.