The Don’s Soulmate

23. Carlotta

Chapter 23

Carlotta

The walls of my bedroom close in on me with each passing day, the air thick and suffocating. I stare at the ornate ceiling, longing for the freedom I once had in Paris. The memory of my mother's absence weighs heavily on me.

She would never have allowed me to be kept prisoner.

Two months. In a fortnight, it would be two months since I’ve been let out. No visitors, no communication with the outside world. I’m slowly losing my hair. I often find myself with wet cheeks, with no memory of when the tears started rolling.

I’ve started thinking of death. Wondering what tools and methods I can use in this room to ensure I don’t survive any attempt at taking my own life.

I wipe away my tears, thinking of my mother. I imagine her talking to me. She’s telling me to be brave and patient. She wants me to fight because someday, I will have freedom but to get there, I need to survive.

Just then, there’s a knock at the door. I don’t bother telling the maid to come in; she does so every day without invitation, bringing me food, clearing away plates, dusting, and cleaning. The door creaks open. “Carlotta?” a soft, most loving voice fills the room.

It can’t be. I’m hallucinating. I’m dreaming. My mind is playing tricks on me now for I’ve gone utterly mad.

“My love?” the voice asks again.

I’m afraid to sit up in bed and take a look. If it’s not her, the disappointment would be too much to bear.

I hear footsteps coming towards me and slowly open my eyes. Right in front of me is a vision from the heavens itself. Brown eyes that don’t hate me, blonde hair swept over one shoulder.

I sit up, the blood gushing to my head. “Sofia?” I ask, eyes widening, hands clutching at hers.

“The one and only,” she squeezes my hands, her eyes sparkling with mischief and excitement. A wide grin stretches across my face as I jump up from the bed, rushing right into her arms. "Sofia!" I exclaim, embracing her tightly. "I've missed you so much!"

"Carlotta, you have no idea how happy I am to see you," she rushes with her words, squeezing me back. "I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for weeks. Every time, I was turned away. I was worried sick, afraid of what’s going on. I was about to turn to the cops when I got a call from your brother, asking to drop by for a visit. What the hell happened?"

I pull apart, confused by this turn of events. “Angelo called you?”

“The one and only,” Sofia whistles, shaking her head. “Your disappearance has been one great mystery to me. Please, tell me what happened.”

I can't help but feel a surge of gratitude for my friend's presence, to finally have someone to confide in. Her mere existence seems to chase away the oppressive atmosphere of my confinement, bringing a breath of fresh air into the room. "I didn't think I'd see you again so soon," I confess, my voice wavering. “That night, after you dropped me home, Ugo and my father were furious. They think I’m having an affair with Ettore and have confined me until the wedding.

"Goodness," she exclaims, her eyes shining with unshed tears. I lead her to the couch in my room and we sit next to one another. "To imagine what hell Ugo Caputo is putting you through,” Sofia reaches over and gingerly rests her head on my shoulder.

“I can't stand the thought of you being alone in this place any longer. No matter what happens, Carlotta. I’m going to make sure you’re not alone in this. I’ll be there by your side, each and every day until the wedding and beyond. Are you certain there’s no way out?"

“There’s nothing I can do,” I say, choking on my words.

We share a moment of understanding, both acknowledging the heavy burden of our circumstances. But despite it all, I'm grateful for the bond of friendship we share, strong enough to withstand even the darkest times.

"Come on," Sofia urges, her voice full of determination. "Let's make the most of our time together while we can. I’m calling down to the kitchen for tea, sandwiches and cakes and I’m going to give you all the gossip I possibly can!”

Sofia and I sit on the lush carpet, our backs leaning against the edge of my bed. The room feels like a sanctuary with her here. I put aside the cup of tea and wipe clear the crumbs that stick to my hands.

"Remember when we used to sneak out and explore the city at night?" I ask wistfully, my voice tinged with frustration. "We were fearless back then."

Sofia grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And always up for an adventure," she adds. “It wasn’t so long ago though, you know?” she says, gently.

"Ugh, I miss that life so much, Sofia. It’s getting harder and harder to remember who I used to be. How free I felt. All this time cooped up in here..." My voice trails off, and I heave a sigh. "I just want to be free again, you know? To live my life without all these restrictions. But sometimes, it feels like that part of my life is dead to me… forever."

"I know," she says gently, placing a comforting hand on mine. "But don't worry, Carlotta. We'll find a way back to that freedom, I promise."

“How?” I ask, feeling a surge of rage at the world’s endless lies. “How can you promise? Ugo Caputo could imprison me for life. I’d be his wife, his property. God knows my father won’t come to my aid. And you, Sofia? You could spend the rest of your life searching for me and never find where they keep me.”

Sofia goes quiet, trying to process my words. Before she can say anything, there's a sudden knock on the door and it swings open, revealing Ugo Caputo, his bulky frame filling the doorway. A cold shiver runs down my spine as I take in his presence, my instincts screaming at me to be cautious.

"Ah, there you two are," he announces, his voice dripping with false charm. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything too important."

"Actually, my brother just called Sof—" I begin, afraid he’d get angry and make my life a worse hell than before at seeing Sofia here, but he cuts me off.

"Never mind that," he says dismissively. "I wanted to talk to you both about something. You see, I've arranged a little outing for the two of you. A chance for you to catch up and have some fun together. After all, I can’t bear the thought of my dear future wife not enjoying the time leading up to her wedding…"he gives me a long, lingering look with a creepy smile plastered across his face.

"Really?" Sofia asks, her curiosity piqued. I can tell she's trying to discern his motives, just as I am. My mind is running with a million thoughts. Time leading up the wedding? When will it be? Dare I ask?

"Of course," Ugo replies, his oily smile never leaving his face, his chin tripling down as he peers at us from where he stands. "I know how much you two have missed each other, and I thought it would be a nice treat." As he speaks, I can't shake the feeling that there's something more to his actions than meets the eye.

"Thank you, Ugo," Sofia says, her voice cautious but polite. "We appreciate it."

"Think nothing of it," he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Just enjoy yourselves tonight."

As he leaves the room, I feel a growing sense of unease. While the prospect of a night out with Sofia is undeniably appealing, I can't help but wonder what Ugo Caputo's true intentions are. What does he stand to gain by allowing us this momentary freedom? And more importantly, what price might we have to pay in return?

Be careful, Carlotta. Be very careful.

But I don’t question it; a taste of freedom is too rare an opportunity to pass up.***

As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of deep red and purple, Sofia and I stand before the mirror in my bedroom, excitement bubbling within us like champagne. The anticipation of our night out together can’t be contained, a welcome escape from the room that has held me captive for so long.

"Remember when we bought this dress in Milan?" I ask Sofia as I zip up the back of her slinky, sequined dress.

"Of course! Those were some fun trips," she replies with a wicked grin, her eyes sparkling in the soft light. "Tonight's going to be just like old times."

"I hope so," I say, my heart racing at the thought of freedom, even if only for a few hours. My hands shake slightly as I adjust the straps of my own form-fitting black dress, a daring choice for me usually, but one I wanted tonight for myself.

"Carlotta, you look stunning," Sofia reassures me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "It's been far too long since you've let your hair down."

"Thank you," I whisper, feeling a sense of gratitude swell within me. "I couldn't have done this without you. You truly are my best friend."

We’re dressed when my father appears in the doorway, his stern gaze scanning both of us. The air in the room grows heavy with tension, and for a moment, I'm certain he's going to deny us permission to leave.

"Ugo informed me of your plans for tonight," he says, his voice low and measured. "He claims it's his way of showing his love for you, Carlotta. I was against letting you out, but he insisted it’s his call as your fiancé and so, I had no choice."

I struggle to suppress my skepticism, knowing full well that Ugo Caputo's ‘love’ comes with strings attached. Nevertheless, I nod, accepting my father's words for now.

"Very well," he continues, his tone softening slightly. "You may go, but be careful. And remember, you represent our family's honor. Any trouble tonight, and the consequences would be harsher than any you’ve had so far."

"Thank you, Papa," I reply, my voice filled with both surprise and gratitude. “I promise there won’t be any trouble.” And I mean it. There’s only one person who brings trouble: Ettore Mancini. And after how he abandoned me on an empty street, there’s no way he’s coming back into my life.

Sofia and I slip past him and out of the house. I have one last fleeting thought of Ugo, wondering what he’s playing at by showing me this kindness. But for now, I push those thoughts aside, choosing instead to focus on the freedom that lies just ahead.

"Let's make tonight one for the books, Carlotta," Sofia whispers as we make our way through the streets in a speeding car, ready to paint the town red.

The door to the bar opens, and a wave of laughter, conversation, and music washes over us. My heart races with excitement as Sofia and I step inside, our eyes taking in the lively crowd and vibrant atmosphere. It feels like an entirely different world compared to the one I’ve inhabited for almost two months.

"Can you believe it, Carlotta? We're finally out!" Sofia screams into my ear, her eyes shining with joy.

"I know," I reply, grinning. "It's been far too long."

“Cocktails, now!” she commands, dragging me forward with her.

We make our way through the throng of people, finding a small table near the back where we can still hear the music and see the dance floor. The bartender catches our eye, and we order our drinks – a mojito for me, and a cosmopolitan for Sofia.

"Cheers to freedom and friendship," Sofia says, clinking her glass against mine. The smile on her face is infectious, and I can't help but feel a surge of happiness course through me.

"Cheers indeed," I agree, taking a sip of my mojito. The cool, minty taste is refreshing, making me feel even more alive.

But as the night wears on, I notice Sofia becoming increasingly distracted. Her eyes keep darting to her phone, and she seems preoccupied with her thoughts. At first, I try to ignore it, hoping that she'll snap out of it and rejoin the festivities. But eventually, her constant checking of her phone starts to worry me.

"Is everything alright, Sofia?" I ask, concern lacing my voice.

She looks up from her phone, startled, as if she'd forgotten I was there. "Oh, yes, everything's fine," she assures me, but her eyes betray that she’s distracted. "I just need to take care of something really quick. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Of course," I reply, nodding. She leaves the table with her nose in her screen and a smile on her face, disappearing into the shadows of the bar. I can't help but feel a pang of anxiety for my friend. What could possibly be so important that it would pull her away from our long-awaited night out together?

After several minutes pass, my concern for Sofia grows stronger. I can't just sit here any longer, letting my imagination run wild with all the possible things that might have happened to her. I gather my courage and stand up from our table, deciding to search for her.

Navigating through the crowd, I try to catch a glimpse of Sofia's familiar blonde hair. The music pulsates around me, its beat thrumming in my chest, but it does little to distract me from my growing worry. My eyes scan the dimly lit corners of the bar, searching for any sign of my friend.

"Where could she be?" I mutter to myself as I weave through the sea of people enjoying their night out.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I spot her in the shadows near the back of the bar. She's not alone. She’s in the arms of a man, their lips locked in a passionate kiss. They giggle into each other's mouths, their bodies pressed close together, their intimate actions hinting at a secret lover. I squint through the darkness, trying to make out his face, but he remains a mystery to me.

My heart skips a beat, and my lips curve into a surprised smile. So, this is what had been keeping her so preoccupied tonight! She has found herself a secret romance. A part of me wants to tease her about it later, but I know now isn't the time. She deserves her privacy, her moment of happiness after everything she does for me.

With a soft chuckle, I turn away, leaving them to their escapades. I decide to give Sofia and her mystery man some time together, and head towards the bar to get another round of drinks for us both.

Just when I’m about to reach, I catch sight of someone familiar at the bar. My heart skips a beat and heat flushes my cheeks, but it's not from excitement – it's pure, unadulterated rage.

Ettore Mancini, the man whose harshness continues to echo in my memories, stands there sipping his whiskey, an air of arrogance surrounding him like a dark cloud. He's with a group of men, laughing and talking, their voices drowned out by the pulsing beats of the music.

"Damn you, Ettore Mancini," I whisper to myself, the words barely audible even to me. My heart races, torn between anger and a forbidden desire that threatens to consume me. I know I should stay away from him, but something deep within me yearns for more.

A confrontation. That’s what I tell myself for an excuse. He owes me an apology for abandoning me after making love to me like that.

But, in my heart, I know it’s more than that.

As if sensing my gaze, Ettore's eyes lock onto mine, and my breath catches in my throat. A slow, predatory smile spreads across his lips, sending chills down my spine.

I swallow hard, feeling the walls closing in around me, trapping me in this dangerous game of cat and mouse. But, it’s no longer a game I can afford to play. If I’m even accidentally seen with him, Ugo would have me chained to his bed for eternity.

And so, with a wretched heart filled with sorrow and rage, I turn on my heels and go in whichever direction would get me away from Ettore Mancini.