Ice Queen : Echoes of the Underworld (Echoes from the Underworld) by Maggie Kay

Author:Maggie Kay [Kay, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MK Publishing
Published: 2020-12-19T06:00:00+00:00

Twenty

Eden

It has been pouring down rain for the past two days, so I have stayed at the house rather than venturing out to do more sightseeing. Alessio has not been around much. Apparently, work has kept him busy. I feel like he is avoiding me. Avoiding the inevitable questions about his sudden mood change at dinner the other night. He leaves in the morning before I wake and does not return until I am asleep at night, communicating to me via text message. Coward!

I'm finishing my dinner in the dining room while reading when the gate intercom buzzes, startling me. A moment later, Cosimo hurries past me, looking panicked.

He is a strange man.

Cosimo doesn't speak much. He will ask questions about what I would like for my meals and any other housekeeping related matters. Still, apart from that, we have not spoken. There is a closed-off aura about him. I would not at all call him approachable or friendly, more robotic, and dutiful. I often get the feeling he is watching me, not in a good way, but not creepy either. I can't quite work him out but get the distinct vibe he is reporting back to Alessio about my movements, or worse, his father. Either way, I don't trust him.

I sit up straighter in my chair, trying to hear Cosimo talking to someone in Italian, but he is too far away for me to translate what he is saying. Then I hear a woman's voice, and it has me jumping to my feet in an instant. Before I can even register what is happening, a dark-haired young woman comes bursting into the room, yelling in Italian. She stops mid-rant when she spots me, narrowing her big brown eyes in my direction.

"Chi diavolo sei?" she asks me who the hell I am in Italian, placing her hand on her tiny waist.

"I could ask you the same question," I retort in English.

The beautiful brunette laughs at me, pretentiously. "You're American?"

"Yes," I answer with a frown.

"I should have known he'd bring back a souvenir!" she sneers.

My eyes widen at her rudeness. "Excuse me?"

Cosimo interrupts our exchange, speaking to her in Italian, trying to usher her from the room. He is talking so damn fast, all I can make out is, not here and leave. Whoever she is, she's stunning. Long dark shiny hair, tall, tanned legs, perfect skin. She looks like a Vogue model ready for a photoshoot. She argues back. I don't know what to do because I don't know what they are saying. I just know they are quarreling from the tone that they are addressing one another in.

Two of Alessio's men from the front gate, Michael and Don, who I have nicknamed Scarface and Manny, enter the room.

"Where is he?" the woman asks them.

"I'm right here." Alessio's voice catches me by surprise as he leisurely walks into the room. He looks professional and handsome in a navy suit with a crisp white shirt and silver tie. My pulse quickens at his presence; it has been a few days since I have seen him.

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