I squinted my eyes to the dark room feeling disoriented. My brain took a minute to reactivate and when it did I groaned into my hands.
It's like beating a dead snake over and over again. I really did the inevitable. Heaving a sigh, I shoved the dark thoughts to the back of my mind. I need a plan. A set of rules for me to see this through.
With that in mind, I decided to know about my position. One thing is for sure- Mr. Salvatore is from Mafia. I have no doubt about it. No one can scare others like him. It's a dead giveaway.
So, if I have to live in this new web, I need to learn about the spider. First things first though, the wedding dress- have to go.
I checked the wardrobe in the elegant room that could fit the home I was living with Shirley in and still leave space and found to my astonishment my clothes neatly packed in it.
When did this happen? How? The fact that my clothes are hanging in this wardrobe without me saying the address to my husband displayed the power he can wield.
Then how come he missed the biggest detail of his wedding that he is marrying a wrong bride?
Shaking my head in bafflement, I took a pajama set even though it's late afternoon and took a shower in the adjoining bathroom all the while marveling at the luxurious jacuzzi.
I was not awake when he brought me inside this home but if this room and bathroom is anything to go by, then Mr. Salvatore is rolling in riches.
It is then an idea formed inside my mind. Why not use his power in my search? For a man to be this rich, he must have some influence, not to forget the Mafia tag. Why not get benefitted from it?
Chewing my lip in thought, I changed into my shorts and matching tee, combed my hair and exit the bathroom.
A scream emitted from my mouth when I saw a girl of my sister's age standing in the room.
"Sorry miss. I was just bringing you lunch," she pointed at the tray placed on the side table.
"N-no. It's my fault. I was not expecting anyone."
"Enjoy your lunch miss," she bend her head slightly and turned on her heel.
"Wait!! What's your name?"
"Umm... Gaby Miss," she looked scared for some reason as if by asking her name I'm shoving her into same danger.
"Hello Gaby, I'm Sameera. So, you work here?" I tried as nonchalantly as possible, trying to dig some information.
"I'm a maid here miss," she wrung her fingers as if I'm pulling her teeth from her mouth.
"A maid? Are there many?" I asked, my eyebrows touching the beginning of my hairline.
"There are four maids, one cook, one gardener, one errand boy who also cleans the pool twice a week, and one driver. We, I mean the maids, do the dusting and helping, some odd chores but for thorough cleaning, every month a cleaning crew comes to clean the mansion from top to bottom."
"Woah. Do all of them live here?"
"What? No miss. Only Mr. Salvatore lives in the mansion. The cook and the gardener, her husband, live on the outside cottage. A crew of security team live in the outhouse. And others, including me, we clock in once the clock strikes 6. There is nothing much to do other than when parties are thrown."
TMI. I feel like I just entered the alien world and missed the demo that all others received.
Who lives with these many servants? And all for what- one person? For some strange reason, my heart went out to him. How lonely he must be!
"Doesn't he have any family?"
"Miss?" Gaby asked with a frown.
"Mr. Salvatore. Doesn't he have any family?"
"Of course miss. Mrs. Salvatore, his mum lives with her sister. His brother lives in his penthouse in the center of the city. His sister with her husband and kids in Upper east side."
My brows drew together. They live separately even with this big of home? What kind of family is this?
"And his father?"
"Mr. Salvatore is no more miss."
"Oh... that's sad."
I wondered how he must be feeling being in charge of the family. A family that lives miles apart even in the same city. I can understand about his sister. She must live with her husband. But what about his brother, aunt and mother? Why can't they live here? From what Gaby said, there are many rooms in this mansion. Can't they settle in some?
Weird family.
"If that's all miss, I would like to take my leave."
"Of course. Sorry I kept you away from your duties. And Gaby, you can call me Sam or Sameera. Whatever you prefer"
"As you say miss," she nodded her head and left the room.
That will take time. How wired it is! Not two days ago, I was doing her job, cleaning other people's messes and now I live in a house which needs an army of servants to keep it running. I can't wrap my head around it.
Shaking my head at the obscurity details, I devoured the meal placed on the tray, my stomach making happy sounds as I chewed my way through it.
Sustenance done, it's time for me to weaponize myself with knowledge. If I have to live in this world, I must know about it.
I tapped the god called Google with my kind pleadings and got the boon in the form of tons of documents regarding the search.
I scrolled through the links, my eyes eating it all up until I think my brain will explode. There is so much of it.
Mafia lives on honour code- Omerta. It is sacred to them. With each dig I did, new revelations came forward. Mostly negative. Explaining about the type of work they do- killing, drugs, arms supplies, prostitution, and many more.
I cringed at the last one though. I can't see Mr. Salvatore forcing someone to enter into the prostitution ring. But if he is in mafia he must be no stranger to it.
I don't know how to take that in. One thing is for sure; he is no saint. Now that the information is presented before me, it's up to me what I do with it.
Can I live with a man who does illegal things? Violent things? May be downright vile?
Do I have choice? A silent no brushed in my mind.
For that matter, does he? From what I read, once entered into this dark abyss, people only leave in body bags.
It's not like he decided at his birth that he will enter Mafia. Circumstances must have shoved him into this. Who am I to question his life choices? It's his life.
I can't question him about his integrity when I'm also the one who traveled this far on the base of lies.
From what I read so far, he doesn't have much choice. Children born in these families have no other option but to continue the legacy. Though I don't want to pity him, a sort of kin man ship welled up in my heart for him. I understand where he is coming from; a life forced upon him with no exit.
That doesn't mean he has to be so arrogant and domineering. Thinking about all this is only bringing me an unwanted headache.
Rubbing my head, I shoved these details beside the rest of them, to the back of my mind. I will deal with it when the situation arises.
Ostrich, mocked my mind.
Ignoring the voice, I decided to explore the mansion that needs so many people to maintain it.
Thinking about Mr. Salvatore brought another thing to my mind. He could have asked my permission before bringing my clothes here. The thought of someone rummaging through my things made my blood boil.
Maybe it's time we decide on some base rules in this marriage. With that in mind, I turned to find him only to hit smack down into a wall.
Not a wall. A chest. A very muscular one. My eyes trailed up to the mocking eyes of my dear husband.
"Going somewhere?" He drawled, lifting an eyebrow.