Ice Queen : Echoes of the Underworld (Echoes from the Underworld) Read online

  Eden’s sad eyes speak to me. Something foreign tugs in my chest and weighs heavily on my shoulders. “Well, you needn’t worry about Georgina, Papa. I have already found someone,” I inform him. The words come pouring out of my mouth before I can even register them.

  I hear him chuckle under his breath. “Is that so? Then who might she be?”

  “Her name is Eden.”

  “Eden who?” he inquires, sounding shocked that I am serious.

  “Eden Kastrati,” I say confidently, swallowing the bitter aftertaste of my words.

  “Eden Kastrati. I don’t think so, Alessio. I will not have that little harlot staining my family’s name. She is a rat.”

  “She saved Luca’s life,” I firmly advise him, “and she is now my fiancé, so you won’t call her that again.” I have to act protective of her. It will help convince him this is real. But all acts aside, I find I am naturally defensive of her anyway, which catches me off guard.

  “You told me I had to find a suitable wife, and I have done so. She comes with an inheritance that will see our business grow and thrive for generations. You cannot tell me that she is not suitable. The Kastrati and the Valsetti’s have made a peace treaty. Will you dishonor that, Papa? Will you go against Nicolai?”

  There is a moment of silence on the line, I am sure he can hear my heart thumping through my chest, but before I can contemplate my stupidity any further, my father clears his throat. “You will bring her to Italy with you when you return. You both have some convincing to do before I approve of this, Alessio.”

  “I understand. Bye, Papa.” I end the call quickly.

  What have I done? How will I convince Eden to play along with this charade? I look back out toward her sitting in the garden. This could be an out for her. I will assure her that when we part ways after an epic break up performance, she is taken care of financially so she will not need her inheritance or a husband.

  I will make her an offer she can’t possibly refuse.

  Five

  Eden

  The afternoon is cool with the crisp air chilling my skin, but I don’t want to leave the shield of the garden. Here I can escape my gilded cage. Here I am just a woman, not a rat. There are no judging eyes amongst the green. No whispers of betrayal, no walls choking me with their confines. I have not left this property since first arriving over three months ago. I feel like I can’t breathe here. Sofia is gone, and I have nothing to do, and no one to talk to.

  Looking up at the sky, I stare into the clouds, hoping for a change, wishing there was an out. I wipe away the tears that wet my face. Here in the garden, I do not have to be brave. I can cry, and I can feel. The smell of honeysuckle in the air fills me with a false sense of freedom. I know it’s not real but being here allows me to pretend it is.

  I think of earlier when I stood dumbfounded in Nicolai’s office like an idiot. When, for the first time, since my brother was murdered, I was confronted alone with his killer. I wanted to scream so much at him, but I also couldn’t. I can’t blame him forever. I know that. I know if he hadn’t killed Juna, Juna would have killed him, and the war between our families would still be raging. So how can I begrudge him for it? In saying that, however, it doesn’t mean I have to like the man, and I don’t.

  That brings my thoughts to another Valsetti I strongly dislike. I can’t wrap my head around why Alessio bailed me out from further humiliation with Luca earlier, when he had been the one to deliver the first dose of it? It makes no sense. He genuinely has no idea why I am here. I’d have thought it would have been the icing on the cake for them all. Poor little Kastrati rat can’t go home and can’t access her money. She is getting what she deserves.

  Do I deserve this, though? What would they have done in my place? I chose to save Sofia, which meant that they got Luca back. Had I chosen Juna, Luca would be dead. You would think they would be thanking me for it. Instead, I am branded a traitor. Suitable for no one, good for nothing. Destined for disaster.

  Footsteps bring my attention from the clouds to the man who now stands in front of me. “You’re blocking the sun!” I clip.

  Alessio smirks, placing his hands in his suit pockets. “Won’t you melt if you get too much of it?”

  “You win, Valsetti.” I shake my head at him. I can’t be bothered with his petty games this afternoon. “What do you want?”

  He rakes his hands through his thick brown hair, his lips straighten into a hard line, making me nervous. “I have a proposal for you.” His hands raise in the air, stopping any comeback I may have. “And before you turn it down, hear me out.”

  I glare at him, confused. Proposal for what? Letting out a long sigh, I gesture with my hand to continue. “I’m listening.”

  “Well, it has become apparent to me you have a problem, as do I. So, I figured we could both help one another out.”

  I cut in, unable to hold back. “What makes you think I would be willing to help you?”

  “Because, little rat, I can help you get the hell out of this place.”

  “Stop calling me a rat, or I won’t stick around to hear the rest of whatever it is you have to say.” I stand up from my seat.

  Alessio removes his hands from his pockets, letting out a frustrated breath. “I have to get back to my duties in Italy when Nicolai returns from his honeymoon. I know you want out of here, so I am offering for you to come with me.”

  I laugh. I can’t help myself. Is he kidding? Does he think I am an idiot? “Why the hell would you want me in Italy with you? There is no way you would offer me that unless there is something you will get in return.”

  “Do you know that is the first time I have heard you laugh? Come to think of it, I haven’t even seen you smile.”

  “Well, it’s not every day I get such a hilarious offer. Besides, what do I have to smile about? The people here are not exactly welcoming.”

  He frowns, appearing to think of something appropriate to say but comes up short. “Anyway, my father is stepping down in the business. I am next in line to take over. However, he will not pass me the reins unless he sees that I have settled down, so to speak.”

  “You mean, he wants you to stop being a man whore who wastes all his time partying?”

  Alessio clears his throat. He looks uncomfortable, annoyed, agitated even. Usually, he is so calm, relaxed, and playful. This means more to him than he cares to let on. “Precisely.”

  “So, what does that have to do with me? What are you not telling me?”

  “If I do not find a suitable wife, my father will give the business to my brother-in-law.”

  I stare blankly at him for a long moment. Is he asking me to marry him? Surely not! I laugh out loud, really loud. I double over myself because I am laughing that hard at him. I think a good several minutes have passed before I stop chuckling, letting out a long-controlled breath to compose myself. I stand straight and look back at him. He is deadpanning me; it’s awkward. I don’t know where to look. I try to focus on the leaves of the plant next to me, but it’s no use. I can feel his eyes burning into me.

  “You want me to be your wife?” I ask, trying so damn hard to stay serious, but my voice shakes and cracks a little at the end. I bite hard on my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing again.

  “No,” he corrects. “I want you to pretend to be my fiancé for a while. It will buy me some time, keep my father off my back until he signs the business over to me. We will break it off eventually.”

  He is deadly serious. In fact, I have never seen him so severe. Like this, looking at me the way he is, and dressed in a black suit, he is far from the Alessio I have come to know over the last three months. He is more the businessman he speaks of, the criminal he is known to be, and the soon to be feared boss of the Italian syndicate.

  I am unable to respond straight away. A million thoughts are racing through my mind and confusing the fuck out of me. I could not even pretend to be his wife. I loathe the man. This would be impossible. “Everyone would see straight through it. It would never work.”

  “The only person who needs convincing our relationship is real is my father.”

  “I couldn’t pretend to like you for one second, let alone an hour or two.”

  He cocks his brow with a smirk, his gorgeous face masking the true man underneath. “You just continue to be the ice-cold bitch you are; my father will love you. He likes them young and detached.”

  I try my darndest to hide my offense, but I don’t think I am very successful. What is it about this man that gets to me? I am usually a pro at hiding any reaction, but with him, it’s different. Letting out a frustrated breath, I shake my head. “Things will not go in your favor if you continue to keep insulting me, Valsetti.”

  “Touché, princess.” He winks. I want to slap him for being so damn quick-witted.

  “What do I get out of it? Surely I would be compensated with more than a holiday to Italy for the embarrassment of being your fiancé.”

  “If you uphold your end of the deal and act convincingly as my fiancé to win over my father, then I will make sure you are financially secure and keep you safe. When the business has been handed over to me, you will be free to live a life of your own choosing, wherever that may be.”

  My mouth falls open. I’m motionless, speechless, delirious. Is he serious? How could he possibly know that is what I want? That is all I have ever wanted. To be free from this life.

  Could I do it, though? Could I really act as if I am in love with this man, and enough to convince his father? I am having a hard-enough time convincing myself I can do it.

  “When you say financially secure, you mean I would get a monthly allowance?”

  He chuckles, shaking his head at me. “No. I will give you ten million dollars to walk away quietly.” br />
  I didn’t think I could be more stunned than I already was, but this is too much. I feel light-headed, so I turn and retake a seat, swallowing back my embarrassment. My hands are sweaty and shaking, my heart thumping so damn hard I can’t breathe.

  “I won’t sleep with you. I am not a whore.”

  “You won’t be expected to. Unless you want to, of course.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively. “We only need to convince my father we are in love, not give him a show. As much as I may be into voyeurism, he is not.”

  My mouth drops open again. He chuckles, the low rumble in his throat vibrates through me.

  “You may think about it and get back to me, but I will need to know by the end of the week so arrangements can be made for your travel. And for your assurance, I will have a contract drawn up.”

  We both know my choices are limited, so my best option would be to take him up on his proposal, no matter how demeaning it feels. It’s not like I have a reputation to uphold. My name is already tarnished. I have hit rock bottom.

  Swallowing past the thick lump in my throat, I push all my concerns aside and stand, extending my hand out to him. “I don’t need time. You have yourself a deal.” Alessio’s lips curl up at the ends as he places his warm hand in mine, squeezing gently.

  “Good, I will have the contract drawn up and ready for you to go over in a few days.” He lets go of my hand and starts to walk away.

  “Valsetti,” I call his attention back to me. He turns, eyebrows raised. “Why me? You have so many beautiful women around you, all willingly falling at your feet. Why are you offering this to me?”

  “Because you need it,” is all he answers, before disappearing down the path.

  Six

  Eden

  Ten million dollars. Alessio’s words echo through my mind. I could finally be free. Free from control, free from this toxic underworld that I was born into. Free from all the judgment and pressure.

  How hard could it be to convince Alessio’s father we are legitimately in love? What will that entail? Would it be just a dinner or two? Then I can be on my merry way with my money and freedom? A million thoughts and questions tumble through my brain, making me dizzy with the turbulence.

  I should have asked more details before jumping straight in and agreeing to his deal. I have not seen nor signed the contract yet, so I guess it is no big deal if I pull out. If I don’t like the conditions, I can just not sign the contract.

  Taking out a pen and paper, I begin writing down all my questions so that I don’t miss anything important and be blindsided when I get to Italy. I will take these to Alessio and have them addressed before I sign anything.

  When I replay Alessio’s response ‘because you need it as his reasoning for choosing me.’ I realize I have not been as clever as I thought with wearing my emotionless mask, pretending I am cold, and fitting into the role everyone perceives me to be. But Alessio saw right through it. Can he see that I am slowly dying inside? Can he feel my heart begging to be free?

  It has been a week since Alessio’s proposal, seven very long, torturous days of nothing. This has become my existence, days of endless nothing. I can’t leave the property, and I cannot have anyone come to see me, because I have no friends left. Sofia is on her honeymoon, and I can’t read another goddamn book. My mind simply cannot focus. I have been swimming in the pool and walking around the property, but I am so bored. My feet itch to dance; it is the only time I can express myself, my true self. When I dance, there is no judgment. It’s just me, the rhythm, and my movement. I miss it so much.

  At home, I busied myself with dancing. It was one of the only activities my father actually approved of. He said it kept me healthy, in good shape, and made me graceful and ladylike. Ballet has always been close to my heart ever since I was a little girl. I remember so clearly the first time my mother took me to a live ballet. I was utterly mesmerized, entirely captivated by the beauty of the movements, exquisite music, and the stunning costumes. I knew from that very moment that I wanted to be a ballerina. I immediately began classical ballet lessons and have been obsessed ever since. However, I have not danced since Juna was killed. My heart is so heavy with guilt and pain; I can no longer feel the passion in the music that I once did.

  I strived so hard for perfection as I practiced and practiced, day after day, until my toes bled. But I have this numbness now, the inability to feel anything good. With my head so full of hate, I have not felt the rhythm in the music like I’d used to feel. Only now, after months of nothing, I am suddenly feeling the urge again. I had thought that part of me died with my brother, but it is slowly coming back to life. That want and need for a release.

  The pool house is practically empty. So, all I needed to do was to arrange a few tables and chairs, and then I had cleared enough space to use. Pressing play on my phone that I Bluetooth to my portable speaker, I stretch my arms and legs. My muscles warm, feeling the familiar aches and burns as I start with controlled leg movements and extensions. It has been over three months since I have done anything, so I am stiff and not as flexible. I use the back of a chair as my pole to steady myself and regain my balance.

  Ballet has always been so much more to me than just about the elaborate costumes and beautiful dancers. It is an artistic expression; it’s a telling of a story that’s demanding grace and precision. Each intricate movement creates a pattern that flows throughout the music, singing its own silent song.

  Grace and fluidity are not things that come naturally. It’s something that a dancer is trained in. It is an acquired skill that takes dedication, consistency, and lots of hard work. Fifteen years of classical ballet training has given me the gift of being able to balance out the harshness of the underworld I was born into. Ballet allowed me to be delicate, yet strong, as I grew up. It toughened me up, made me resilient to pain, and, therefore, I have been able to withstand the cruelty of my life. It gave me hope, goals, and something beautiful to focus on when I was surrounded by so much ugliness.

  Refining my movements, I begin to transpose, closing my eyes and letting myself go. It’s spontaneous and natural, yet so habitual, so familiar. This intimate part of myself drifts like silk from one movement to another. The music takes over my mind, my body moves in thoughtless, yet lyrical ways, releasing all my tension, all the hurt, and loneliness. I close my eyes and abandon all my pain.

  Seven

  Alessio

  I can hear classical music coming from the pool house; the sound is foreign and definitely out of place here. Curious, I investigate the sound, walking to the window and peering through a break in the curtain.

  Eden is dancing. Dressed in nude-colored tights and a fitting black leotard, both accentuate just how tiny she is. Her feet are encased in bone-colored ballet slippers, well-worn in, with cream ribbons lacing up her dainty ankles. With her eyes focused and face softened, she skillfully moves with each note of the music, rhythmically in tune.

  Mesmerized by her softness, I continue to watch her through the window. Elegantly, she moves from one side of the room, to the other, like silk ribbons floating through the air. Her delicate steps give the illusion that she is simply weightless. I don’t know much about ballet, but I can tell Eden is talented. I would not be so hypnotized otherwise. Each movement is gracefully executed. She looks peaceful, calm, and so natural. It’s unlike the defensive, cold, sad woman she portrays. Here in her own little world, she is breathtakingly beautiful.

  It all makes sense now. I had wondered before how she was so slender, yet still had muscular definition. I’d put it down to yoga or something of that nature. Her posture is poised and refined, her every step smooth like liquid.

  I watch her as she closes her eyes, moving blindly to the rhythm. Her soul, her passion, and her beauty carry her from one exquisite movement to the next. A heaviness gathers in my chest as I watch her, feeling every emotion she is spilling out onto the floor. It’s almost too overwhelming, too much to bear. This mysterious woman just became so much more intriguing, so much more enticing.