Alessia peeled off her purple rubber gloves and tossed them into the empty bucket on the kitchen floor. The paint on the walls still peeled, the cabinet doors were still missing knobs, and the fridge still sputtered loudly, but at least Alessia had scrubbed the place clean, top to bottom. Nonna's eyes weren't the best anymore, and Alessia cringed every time she caught sight of the dusty corners and the crumbs gathered at the baseboards.

The kitchen had needed a deep clean for a while and today was the perfect day to get it done. She had no desire to show her face to the guest again. She didn't know why his comment had stung. Maybe it was because she was tired of hearing it from Veronica all the time.

She knelt on the floor and glanced around with a sigh. The reddish glow of the setting sun streamed through dusty windows, between braids of garlic and small bouquets of dried herbs hanging from the curtain rod. This room, full of memories going back over a hundred years. How could her parents decide to walk away from this, just like that?

They had no hope. And what had she done today? Gone out and dug in the dirt, not even knowing what she should be looking for. That wasn't going to pay a hundred thousand euros bill. She needed to refocus. She needed to get out and apply for jobs. And she needed to start tomorrow.

Getting to her feet, her arms and legs ached as she stretched. Digging that morning must have given them a good workout. She hadn't done that in a long time, and now, after all the scrubbing in the kitchen, they could use a good, hot soak.

After returning the bucket to the cleaning supplies closet, she walked out the kitchen door into the garden and followed the beige stone path to the pool area. The turquoise water was smooth, except for a few leaves that floated on top. The hot tub was still covered, untouched. And not a single person was in sight. Not even The Guest, who had retreated to his room immediately after dinner. She'd miraculously been able to avoid him since their last meeting at her excavation site. Hopefully it would stay that way for the rest of his visit.

Alessia dragged the cover off the hot tub and pressed the buttons, setting the temperature to 40. The water instantly churned and blubbered in invitation.

It's all mine.

She whirled around and ran back inside, bounded up the stairs to the bathroom, and took a quick shower to get all the dust and grime off. Afterwards, she quickly changed in her room, throwing on an oversized T-shirt that hit halfway down her thighs over her bathing suit. That should do the trick. She grabbed her phone and a book on the Etruscans, then walked back downstairs with a towel over her shoulder.

Her mother and sister were at the kitchen table, examining ribbon samples.

"Um, what do you think you're doing?" Veronica asked with one eyebrow raised.

Alessia didn't even slow her steps. "Getting in the hot tub."

"Um, no, you're not."

Alessia stopped with her hand on the doorknob and half-turned toward her sister. "Why not?"

"I need it for tomorrow. All the girls are coming over, and you were outside digging in the dirt all day. You're not getting in it now."

Alessia scoffed. "I took a shower." Realizing she shouldn't have defended herself over a nasty dig like that, she turned her back to Veronica and opened the door.

"Girls," their mother cut in with an eye roll. "I'm not in the mood for this right now. Alessia, just go get in the bathtub. I won't have time to clean the hot tub again tomorrow. I have other things to do."

It was as if someone had slapped Alessia in the face.

Not even looking in her direction, her mother went on, "Getting the pH levels just right is hard enough. Just go draw yourself a bubble bath for tonight, please."

Alessia's mind whirled as heat rose in her chest. She was tired of this. Tired of the wedding. Tired of being treated as nothing more than a doormat. Tired of being the only one who cared about anything.

"Don't have to worry about it. I'll clean the hot tub myself," she snapped. With that, Alessia whirled around and stormed outside.

Why were they like this?

Was it her hair? It wasn't smooth, tumbling waves like her sister's. Was it her nose? It wasn't as straight and narrow as her sisters. Her sun spots? Her skin wasn't as flawless. She didn't spend a half hour every morning putting on make-up and fixing it up again and again throughout the day.

Alessia threw the pool gate open and let it bang against the fence behind her.

Why did she even stick around when she only got treated like a mule? Veronica didn't lift a finger. Everything revolved around her and her stupid wedding.

Alessia kicked off her sandals, pulled her shirt over her head and climbed into the tub, sinking into the warm, roiling water. She tilted her head back until it rested against the tub's edge, and her eyes slid shut. Though the water churned and the warmth relaxed her muscles, it did nothing to lessen the bitter taste of dejection.

*

Alessia wasn't sure when she'd fallen asleep. She didn't really care either. But when she woke up, the sky had turned black and crickets chirped happily from the cover of a nearby rosebush. The hot tub was still churning, the lights fading from blue to green, then changing to pink.

Swallowing against the dryness in her throat, she peered through blurry eyes to find her phone to check the time. The side of the tub where she had placed her book and phone was empty.

She sat up with a jolt. Now she was awake.

She found her book floating on the other side of the tub, and her phone at her feet.

Porca miseria.

She fished it from the bottom of the tub and turned the screen on. It flickered, then went black. With a defeated groan, she shut off the jets, climbed out, and rubbed her back with the towel. She pulled her T-shirt back over her head and picked up her book. It was heavy and swollen, water dripping from its pages.

It must be a sign. A sign that she was done with the little puzzle Nonna had given her. This was not the time to go chasing after castles in the air. She needed to be realistic. She needed to get out there and get a real job.

With her phone dripping in her hand, she tucked the book under her arm and started down the pathway toward the house. All the lights were off and the only sound was the crickets chirping in the bushes. She hadn't seen the house this peaceful in a long time.

Maybe I should become nocturnal so I don't have to listen to Mom and Veronica.

It wasn't a bad idea.

She reached the kitchen door, grabbed the handle, and her stomach dropped. It wouldn't budge. She pushed and pulled, then released the handle with a growl.

That heifer.

Of course Veronica would stoop to something low like this. Instead of just trying to not be a bridezilla for once.

I'm done. I can't take any more of this. I'm leaving. Tomorrow.

Blood pounding in her head, her cheeks hot, she turned on her heel and started for the guest entrance on the other side of the house. Chances were the foyer door would be locked too. But at least she knew the key for that one was taped on the underside of the desk drawer.

A thump from around the corner of the house made her stop. Probably a boar trying to get into the trash cans again. This wouldn't be the first time one had wandered onto their patio and knocked things around. She stepped forward slowly, not wanting to scare the thing. A wild boar attack would not be pretty.

As she peered around the corner, a deep voice drifted from ahead, and she was faced with a new problem. The Guest stood under the roses that climbed over the front door in the greenish-white glow of the outdoor lighting, his back to her and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a phone to his ear. He stood between her and the door. What a sight he would behold when she rounded the corner, dressed in a wet T-shirt and claiming she'd been locked out.

It made her decision easier. She would disappear from this place first thing in the morning.

"I really don't care, Tony," Gianmarco was saying. "If the statement says Rossi used the card nearby, that's all the evidence you need. His brother knows where he is. Make him talk."

He paused, running a hand through his hair, and Alessia hesitated. There was something about his tone of voice. She didn't like it, and it felt like a bad time to interrupt as she walked past.

"What do I want you to do? I want you to rip his eyes out. And if he still doesn't talk, chop off his fingers. Give him an unmedicated root canal. Get creative. You know how it works."

Alessia's stomach churned. While she wasn't sure if he was being serious, even though it sounded like he was, this was definitely a bad time to interrupt.

"Get creative. If he doesn't give you anything useful by midnight, kill him."

Yeah, it was serious.

Her heart pounded as she took a step backwards. What could she do? She had no idea who he was talking about or where this person was. Her eyes darted to the saturated phone in her hands. That would be no use to call the police either. She'd have to break a window to get back in the house.

"What do you mean, how? Put a gun to his head and put a bullet in it."

And that was her cue to run. Now.

Then he turned around.

"Let me know how it..." He stopped when his gaze landed on her. "Goes."

They stared at each other in shock for a long moment.

He slowly returned his phone to his pocket, his eyes ice-cold and his mouth pressed into a thin line. As he pulled his hand out, the light flashed against something metal in his fingers-a gun.

She turned and ran.

Her mind spun, not knowing where to go. She didn't have time to try and break a window. Then her eyes anchored on the barn. She could lock herself in there. There was a plethora of hiding spots. It was her best bet.

But the pounding footsteps behind her told her he wasn't far behind.

She barreled through the rose garden, past the gazebo, and up the short path to the barn. The door easily swung open when she threw herself against it. She slammed it shut and dropped the wooden bar across it, locking it shut.

She took a step back just before something pounded against it. The door shook but didn't budge. She was safe, if only for a moment. The brittle, decayed wood wouldn't hold long.

What do I do, what do I do? Her gaze was drawn to the pig sty. They had a doorway. She could slip out and around...

The banging stopped and the barn fell eerily silent. Alessia held her breath, listening for footsteps or something to clue her in on his movements. But all she could hear were the soft snorts from the pigs, who had woken and were now sniffing at the stall door, wondering if they were about to get a late-night snack.

She glanced at the front door, still silent. If John had gone around to look at other entrances, he wouldn't be watching that door. Unless he was quietly waiting. The pig sty was still her best bet. But she wasn't going to leave the barn without a weapon.

She stepped over to a bucket of tools and placed her soaked book and phone on the ground next to it. They were only good for kindling now, anyway. She selected the hammer, something she could easily use to break open a window to get back into the house, and climbed into the stall. Keeping her head low, she crept for the flap that served as a door and slowly peeked outside.

Only the crickets chirped in the grass just beyond the fence. No shadows or movements hinted that John was nearby. She crawled through the flap and, with her back hunched, tiptoed to the fence.

She swung herself over and stood. As soon as she'd straightened, burning pain shot through her scalp, her head jerked back. She screamed as she was pulled backwards and pinned against the fence.

He pressed the gun to her neck.

Her heart thundered painfully against her rib cage. It was too much. Too much like that moment Luca died. The running. The gun. A murder about to be committed. Tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision.

The need to fight was overwhelming. Gripping the hammer tightly, she swung it at his head—only to stop halfway. He'd let go of her hair and grabbed her wrist.

He pushed her arm down as if she were nothing more than putty. She pushed back, trying to lift her arm, but he didn't seem to notice. A second later, he turned her around, her arm behind her back, and pushed her stomach against the fence.

"Drop it. Now," he snarled, his voice terrifyingly feral, promising more pain as the barrel of the gun pressed against her temple.

She'd lost. With a strangled sob, she did as he asked. The hammer hit the ground with a thud.

***********************
Author's Note:

Thanks so much for reading! And, I'm sorry things just don't seem to be working out for Alessia right now. 😪 (not)

Chapter Eight will be up soon! 😁