Page 20 of When She Loves
His hand, warm and rough, swallows up my own as he leads me out of the ballroom.
Touching him is not entirely unpleasant, which gives me pause. Whenever Ludovico got too close to me, I got the strong urge to hurl, something I communicated to him quite often. It kept him away from me for a while.
We turn down a wide hallway and walk toward the door at the end of it. Behind it, a narrow staircase leads downstairs. Rafaele flicks on a light and gestures for me to go first.
I swallow. This is starting to feel ominous. “Want to tell me where we’re going?”
“You’ll see.”
I narrow my eyes. “Any reasonable person would want to know why you’re taking them to a creepy dark basement.”
“They would, but we both know you’re not a member of that group,” he drawls.
Wow. “So you expect me to follow you around like some lapdog?”
He crosses his big arms over his chest. “I don’t like dogs.”
I scoff. “You don’t like dogs? Well, that explains a lot. Is it because you’re deathly allergic?”
His eyes spark. “Wouldn’t you just love that.”
“If you have any serious allergies, you should probably make me a list. I wouldn’t want to accidentally kill you, would I? That would be very unwifely of me.”
His cheek ticks. “You can either take the stairs on your own, or I can throw you over my shoulder and bring you down there myself. Your choice.”
“Jesus, I got it.” I brush past him. I should probably keep my mouth shut, but I’m brimming with nervous energy.
Getting down is a challenge due to the narrow skirt of my dress. The air gets colder and colder with each step I take.
The chill fills me with foreboding. Seriously, what the fuck is down here? I mean, he wouldn’t kill me the night before our wedding, right?
I finally reach the bottom landing and take a few steps into the darkness.
Rafaele flicks on another light, illuminating the space.
It’s a cigar room.
Four leather armchairs are arranged in a circle with a small coffee table in the center. Behind them is a large glass case filled with cigars.
Rafaele opens the case, touches something, and then closes it. A second later, the entire wall starts moving.
My eyes widen. “Holy shit.”
A passage opens. I’m so stunned that I follow Rafaele down it without another peep. The passage isn’t very long and we stop in front of an armored door with a biometric lock.
Now, I’m genuinely curious. What is this place? A panic room? We have one back at my parents’ place, but it’s not nearly as high tech. And why would he take me here?
Rafaele walks up to the lock and allows the sensor to scan his eye. I can hear the lock disengage. The door pops open, and Rafaele holds it, gesturing for me to go in. I take a tentative step inside.
Oh.Oh.
It’s a vaultbrimmingwith jewelry. Three full wall cabinets, four shelves each. On each shelf, jewels glitter. Sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and diamonds—somany diamonds.
Some are loose, but most are set into diadems, necklaces, bracelets, earrings, brooches, and rings. Stunning. One shelf even has a row of extravagant watches bobbing on watch winders. I have to scrape my jaw off the floor.
Rafaele stops by my side. “My family’s hundred-year-old collection.”
I’m speechless. Rafaele could have told me this was the jewelry collection of some dead king and I would have believed him. It must be worth hundreds of millions. I knew the Messeros were richer than my family, but I never thought they werethisrich.
