The Slave of Pleasure

The atmosphere in the Morette mansion was thick and tense, something that could be felt from the moment Nancy and I descended the stairs and headed toward the hallway that would lead us to our rooms. The constant presence of the security guards around us, with their watchful eyes and firm steps, made every movement seem heavier. The Morette mansion, without Vincenzo, seemed like a body without a soul. Every corner of the place carried his absent presence, as if the very air had lost part of its essence. As I walked through the long hallways, the sound of my footsteps echoed almost eerily, a constant reminder of the emptiness that now dominated the space.

The walls, once vibrant with Vincenzo's choices of art and tapestries, now seemed darker, as if the light that used to bathe them had been removed. The great hall, with its imposing chandelier and perfectly aligned velvet sofas, seemed colder, despite being as grand as I remembered. Even the fresh flowers on the tables seemed to be there out of necessity, lacking the usual liveliness that Vincenzo brought to the space. His office, which I caught a glimpse of as I walked down the hallway, was untouched. The dark wooden desk was still piled high with organized papers and an empty ashtray next to it, as if he would return at any moment to resume his routine. What bothered me most, however, was the absence of sound. The mansion seemed too quiet, as if all of its personality had left with Vincenzo. It was a palpable sense of melancholy, and I couldn't help but feel a lump in my throat as I realized how much he was missed. I didn't know whether to feel relief or discomfort at being so protected, but the reality was clear: we were not in a safe place. Nancy, as always, seemed to take everything in her stride. She walked around casually, casting curious glances at the ornate paintings on the walls and the antique furniture that decorated the space. On the other hand, my mind was too busy to allow myself to admire anything. Every step I took was accompanied by a flood of thoughts: What exactly was going on in Italy? How was Vincenzo handling all of this? And, most importantly, what did I need to do to resolve this situation once and for all?

As I reached the door to the room I usually occupied, the butler opened it for us with his impeccable posture and a small nod. I felt a lump form in my throat as I recognized the space. The room was identical to the last time I'd been there, but the nostalgia I felt was quickly replaced by a sense of urgency.

"Well, here we are," Nancy said, throwing her backpack on the bed and turning on her heel to face me. "What now?"

"Now," I began, crossing my arms, "we need to prepare ourselves for what comes next. This isn't going to be easy, Nancy."

She arched an eyebrow and gave me a carefree smile. "Rachel, you really need to learn to relax. We're in the middle of chaos, I know, but that's exactly why you can't let it consume you. Trust me."

"Trust you?" I replied, shaking my head. "You're taking this like a vacation. Nancy, this is serious. Vincenzo could be in danger. We are in danger."

She shrugged before sitting on the edge of the bed. "Of course I know that. But if we keep worrying every second, we won't get anything done. So, yes, I'll take it easy. And you should try, too."

I sighed and turned to the window, looking out at the perfectly manicured gardens. The security guards were still patrolling tirelessly, their silhouettes moving in the shadows. It was comforting to know they were there, but at the same time, I couldn't ignore the reason their presence was necessary.

"Rachel," Nancy called, breaking the silence. "Are you okay?"

"I am," I lied, still staring out the window. "I'm just thinking."

"Well, don't overthink it," she said, laughing. "Leave this to me."

Before I could respond, a soft knock on the door interrupted us. The butler was back, his expression as serious as ever.

"Miss Rachel," he began, handing me a wax-sealed envelope. The Morette family crest was engraved on it, something that brought a mix of anxiety and curiosity to my chest.

"What is this?" I asked, taking the envelope carefully.

"It's a message from Nona," he explained. "She asked that you read it in private."

Nancy gave the envelope a curious look as I opened it, my hands shaking slightly. The words written inside were short but loaded with meaning:

"Rachel, you are entering a battle that requires courage and sacrifice. Know that I am by your side, but I want you to be aware of the risks. Vincenzo needs you, and so does the Morette family. Be strong."

I read the message over and over, each time I read it. The letter weighed heavily on my mind. Sacrifices. It was a word I understood, but I had never felt it so intensely until now. Nancy leaned forward, trying to peek at the letter, but I quickly put it away. "What does it say?" she asked. "It says I need to be strong," I replied, still digesting Nona's words. "Well, that's nothing new," Nancy said with a smile. "You are strong. You just need to remember that." I nodded, but deep down I wondered if my strength would be enough to face what was to come. --- A few hours passed, and Nancy decided to explore the mansion, leaving me alone in the room. I took advantage of the moment of solitude to organize my thoughts. I sat in the armchair next to the window and observed the gardens again, trying to find some kind of peace in this familiar scenery. But my mind wouldn't give me rest. Nona's words echoed in my head, along with all the other worries that had been haunting me since I decided to return to Italy.

I knew I was putting myself at risk by being here, but I also knew I had no other choice. Vincenzo needed me, and I would do anything to help him. He had changed, left behind the dark world he had grown up in, and it wasn't fair that he should pay for Veronica's crimes.

A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. It was Nancy, holding two glasses of wine.

"I thought you might need this," she said, handing me one of the glasses.

I accepted the wine with a small smile. "Thank you."

Nancy raised her glass, as if toasting something. "To women who will stand up for what they believe in," she declared.

"To women who will stand up for anything," I repeated, clinking my glass to hers.

As we sipped our wine, we chatted about trivial things, trying to forget, for a moment, the weight of the situation we were in. It was a welcome distraction, but I knew it wouldn't last long.

As night fell, the atmosphere in the mansion grew even heavier. The presence of security guards seemed to double, and the hallways seemed quieter than ever. Nancy decided to go to bed early, but I stayed awake, unable to turn my mind off. Finally, I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes, trying to find some rest. But deep down, I knew that the real battle was just beginning.