Chapter Thirteen
The worry about her overdue rent gnawed at Evelyn, a persistent undercurrent beneath the throbbing in her head. She knew she needed to find a solution quickly, but the thought of navigating apartment viewings and paperwork in her current state felt overwhelming.
Sandro had remained a constant presence in the background of her recovery, his visits to the hospital a quiet routine. He never pressed her about her investigation, engaging in polite conversation about mundane topics, yet his watchful gaze never wavered. Evelyn found herself in a strange limbo, still suspicious of his motives but also grudgingly accepting his unexpected care.
One afternoon, as Sandro sat reading in the armchair beside her bed, Evelyn decided to broach the subject that was weighing heavily on her mind.
"Signor Moretti," she began hesitantly, her voice still a little weak.
He looked up from his newspaper, his dark eyes meeting hers. "Signorina Rossi? Is everything alright?"
"Well, physically, I'm improving, thank you," Evelyn replied. "But… there's another matter." She paused, feeling a wave of reluctance. Asking for help from the man she was investigating felt deeply wrong, but she was running out of options.
Taking a deep breath, she continued, "My… my apartment situation is a bit complicated. My rent is overdue, and I might… I might need to find a new place rather quickly." She avoided his gaze, focusing on the crisp white sheets.
A thoughtful silence filled the room. Evelyn could feel Sandro's intense gaze on her. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm and measured. "You are in no condition to be dealing with such matters, signorina."
Evelyn finally looked up, a flicker of defiance in her eyes. "I understand that, but it's something that needs to be addressed."
Sandro steepled his fingers, his expression unreadable. "Perhaps… perhaps I could be of assistance."
Evelyn's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Assistance? How?"
"I have… various properties," Sandro explained, his tone carefully neutral. "Empty apartments. Until you are fully recovered, and have the… energy to find something suitable, you could stay in one of them. No rent, of course. Consider it… a temporary arrangement."
Evelyn stared at him, her mind racing. This was unexpected. An opportunity? Or a gilded cage? The offer was undeniably generous, solving her immediate problem, but the strings attached were likely invisible, yet very real.
"Why would you do that, Signor Moretti?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "As I said before, signorina, a gesture of goodwill. You were injured. It is the least I can do."
Evelyn didn't believe it was just goodwill. Sandro Moretti didn't strike her as a man prone to selfless acts. This had to be about control, about keeping her close, perhaps even under his watchful eye.
Yet, the alternative was facing homelessness while recovering from a head injury. It was a difficult choice, a dangerous bargain.
What should Evelyn do? Should she refuse his offer outright, despite her precarious situation? Try to negotiate terms? Or cautiously accept, seeing it as a way to potentially gain more insight into his world, while remaining fiercely independent?
Okay, let's move into Chapter Thirteen of Beneath Black Silk:
Chapter Thirteen
The worry about her overdue rent gnawed at Evelyn, a persistent undercurrent beneath the throbbing in her head. She knew she needed to find a solution quickly, but the thought of navigating apartment viewings and paperwork in her current state felt overwhelming.
Sandro had remained a constant presence in the background of her recovery, his visits to the hospital a quiet routine. He never pressed her about her investigation, engaging in polite conversation about mundane topics, yet his watchful gaze never wavered. Evelyn found herself in a strange limbo, still suspicious of his motives but also grudgingly accepting his unexpected care.
One afternoon, as Sandro sat reading in the armchair beside her bed, Evelyn decided to broach the subject that was weighing heavily on her mind.
"Signor Moretti," she began hesitantly, her voice still a little weak.
He looked up from his newspaper, his dark eyes meeting hers. "Signorina Rossi? Is everything alright?"
"Well, physically, I'm improving, thank you," Evelyn replied. "But… there's another matter." She paused, feeling a wave of reluctance. Asking for help from the man she was investigating felt deeply wrong, but she was running out of options.
Taking a deep breath, she continued, "My… my apartment situation is a bit complicated. My rent is overdue, and I might… I might need to find a new place rather quickly." She avoided his gaze, focusing on the crisp white sheets.
A thoughtful silence filled the room. Evelyn could feel Sandro's intense gaze on her. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm and measured. "You are in no condition to be dealing with such matters, signorina."
Evelyn finally looked up, a flicker of defiance in her eyes. "I understand that, but it's something that needs to be addressed."
Sandro steepled his fingers, his expression unreadable. "Perhaps… perhaps I could be of assistance."
Evelyn's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Assistance? How?"
"I have… various properties," Sandro explained, his tone carefully neutral. "Empty apartments. Until you are fully recovered, and have the… energy to find something suitable, you could stay in one of them. No rent, of course. Consider it… a temporary arrangement."
Evelyn stared at him, her mind racing. This was unexpected. An opportunity? Or a gilded cage? The offer was undeniably generous, solving her immediate problem, but the strings attached were likely invisible, yet very real.
"Why would you do that, Signor Moretti?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "As I said before, signorina, a gesture of goodwill. You were injured. It is the least I can do."
Evelyn didn't believe it was just goodwill. Sandro Moretti didn't strike her as a man prone to selfless acts. This had to be about control, about keeping her close, perhaps even under his watchful eye.
Yet, the alternative was facing homelessness while recovering from a head injury. It was a difficult choice, a dangerous bargain.