Chapter 7: Silent Treatment

Ruby

My view gets blurry, and I realize I was crying. The whole incident has been trying on my nerves and already tired body.

I blink the tears away. I was not even sure if I was crying because Archer walked away without letting me explain or because of the bruises from Diavolo’s tight grip.

I never expected Diavolo to be so hard and violent. In all the time we spent together, he’s never gotten drunk before. He was always the perfect gentleman. He has never even raised his voice at me before. It was one of the reasons loving him was so easy.

I honestly wish he had realized his mistake immediately and fought for me. Not now, after weeks apart, after getting to know Archer. I feel torn between two men, and I don’t know what to do.

I pick up my phone and dial home.

“Hola. Ferretti’s residence.”

“Hey Maria. It’s Ruby. Can you tell Pedro to send a car for me? I’m still at the orphanage.”

“Yes, signorina Ferretti.” The call drops.

I stood there in the parking lot, cold and tired for over thirty minutes. I scoff at the thought that both men left me to the elements without a care for my welfare. So much for love.

As soon as the car arrives at home, I step out. Pedro is already waiting for me.

“Are you okay, Signorina Ferretti?” Pedro, our butler, asks concerned.

“Just had a long day at work, Pedro,” I assure as I kiss his cheek. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

I’ve known Pedro since I was a child; he has been with my family since before I was born. He’s a sweetheart and treats Ethel and me like his own, especially since Mama died, and Papa became so hard. My Papa loved my Mama so much. I want that kind of love.

“Please help me tell Angelina I won’t be having dinner. I’m really just tired,” I tell Maria, who’s standing beside Pedro. I’ve lost any appetite I had.

“Yes, Signorina Ferretti.”

“Alright. Goodnight then.”

I head straight up to my room. I don’t want my papa to see me in this state. I probably look like a mess.

The moment I get to my room, my eyes go to the floor-length mirror in front of the closet. Yup, a mess. I sigh. My hair looks disheveled, and I have swollen eyes from crying.

Tonight has been horrible and unexpected. When I walked out of Julia’s place this evening, I had assumed I’d be spending this evening with Archer.

I run a bath, then take off my clothes. I hiss in pain as I take off my shirt. There’s a nasty bruise forming there already. It’s very noticeable, courtesy of my pale skin inherited from my mama.

I took after my mama. I have hair so red it can only be called Ruby, just like my name, with eyes of light brown, just like my mama’s. My mama was an English student on vacation when she met my papa, and it was said that it was love at first sight. My mama moved all the way from London to Milan to be with my papa.

I want love like Mama and Papa, like Julia and Alonzo. Instead, I’m stuck in an arranged marriage with a man I was starting to like and respect.

I exhale as I sink into the hot water and stretch out, soaking up the heat and washing my face clean, making me feel like a new woman.

When I get out, I dry myself, put on some lotion, brush my hair, and put on my nightdress. I fall into bed and pick up my phone to dial Archer’s number.

I hold my breath and cross my fingers, praying he picks up, but as the phone rings and rings, he doesn’t pick up. I exhale. Then I try again, and he still doesn’t pick up.

I bite my lower lip and send him a message.

“Hey. Can we talk, please?”

I wait a couple of minutes and don’t get any reply.

“I need to explain what you saw tonight.”

I fall asleep waiting for his text.

When I wake up, the first thing I check is my phone. There’s still no text from Archer. I groan.

I stand up and get ready for work, my normal job at Ferretti’s Wine. I work with the distribution chain of our wine, ensuring it gets to its destination. Currently, we’re looking at going global and starting to export our wine. Getting married to Archer would help when we merge our companies, as the Petraki family owns several shipping lines, which would aid our exporting plans greatly.

After a quick breakfast, I head straight to my office.

“Good morning, ma,” my assistant, Andrea greets.

“Good morning.”

I love working at Ferretti’s Wine. I’ve been running down these halls longer than I can remember. I’ve had my hand in every sector of the business. I’ve spent summers working at the vineyards during harvest, harvesting and crushing the grapes with the other workers, which had been the highlight of my summers. I love it.

I know each worker here by name, from the lowest worker to the highest. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone when I decided to study business management and later proceeded to get a master’s degree in logistics and supply chain management.

At twenty-four, I was the youngest assistant manager Ferretti’s Wine has ever had. The only thing stopping me from becoming the manager is age and experience.

Today, like every other day at work, is busy. I have several meetings with our suppliers, retailers, and distributors. By the time I come up for air, the day is gone. I check my phone and still haven’t received a text from Archer. I decide to let him cool off for another day before going to see him the next day.

Irene pours some wine into my glass, refilling it. When I got home, I was informed that my papa wishes to have dinner with me. There’s nothing unusual about the request, so after cleaning up and making myself presentable, I dash downstairs and find him already seated.

We talk for a while about the business, as the CEO, my papa oversees everything concerning the business. When he drops his spoon abruptly, I brace myself for what he plans to say. The last time he looked this nervous, he informed me I was getting married to Archer.

“Tesoro Mia, I have some news.”

Uh-huh, whenever papa calls me that, I know I’m not going to like what he says next.

He clears his throat and drinks some water. “Archer called today.”

Surprise, surprise. He could call my papa but couldn’t reply to a text.

“He’s fixed a date for the wedding, the second week of August.”

I expected him to do something drastic like call off the wedding. But to fix a date for our wedding without consulting me irks me.

“I think it’s a good idea. This way we can start planning.”

I don’t say a thing as I continue stabbing the steak on my plate, wishing it was Archer instead.

The nerve of him to fix a date without talking to me. He didn’t even let me apologize for what he saw. Although I was relieved that he didn’t call off the wedding, I wasn’t happy with this new development. It seems the men in my life are always making decisions for me without consulting me.

After dinner, I indulge in more wine. Who does he think he is? How dare he snub me? This marriage involves two people, and if he thinks he can make decisions for me even before marrying me, he’s got another thing coming.

I tell Pedro to call me a cab. I’m going to pay my dear fiancé a visit.