Chapter 4

The darkness in my room was peaceful. I’d pulled the curtains together to keep the moon out. It reminded me too much of him, and that night. The only source of light was the slit of yellow from the slightly ajar bathroom door. My stomach was full from the lavish dinner we’d had an hour after my argument with Cristo. Jenna and Aubrey stuck close by me as I avoided being around Cristo. I didn’t have to try too hard, because he’d apparently left right after I’d abandoned him on the balcony.
I lay there with my eyes closed against the comfortable mattress, the soft linen and silk sheets feeling a lot like the ones back in Korea’s hotel.
Gosh, it sucked to be there.
Sucked to be me.
Two more days, I reminded myself. Two days and I’ll be away from all the drama here. I can go sightseeing, have nice food, sleep in a place so different I’ll be completely disconnected from Cristo and Blair.
For once in a very long time, I was excited to do my job. Maybe I should work for foreign clients more. Maybe I should settle with a rich family like Mrs. Beaumont did. I understood that the culture of having a family matchmaker didn’t exist anymore, but it wouldn’t be completely impossible to find someone of the sort who still followed traditions.
But I needed sleep above anything else. My stomach was full and satisfied, I’d washed my make-up off and showered, the room smelled nice. I should be able to sleep.

I opened my eyes and panicked as soon as I saw the ceiling.
Oh no…
I tired to move, but I couldn’t. The crème ceiling with the chandelier from Barry Halls’ wedding. The window with the moon. Someone stood behind the window with their back to me. It didn’t take a genius to know it was Cristo. I could feel his literal presence.
How I hated my life.
I’m sucked through the sheets and thrown abruptly into wakefulness. The sunlight pierced through the gaps of the curtains and right past my closed eyelids.
Why does on bedroom need so many darned windows?
With a groan, I stumble out of bed and walk blindly, using my hands to direct myself to the other windows. As I drew them together, I heard a knock at the door.
“Come in!”
The door opened with a click, and I heard the rolling of wheels against the marble floor. I smelled the delicious breakfast all the way across the bedroom. As the light grew comfortably dim, I looked at the trolley that had been brought in. As she brought it closer to the table and chair by me, I wondered how I was going to eat everything there, but my stomach grumbled in need. The maid who’d brought it in promptly left and I stared at the plates piled high with baked goods, fruits, and other assortments of stuff. A plate of eggs and bacon already lay on the lower rack, so I spooned some fruits onto it and sat down for breakfast.
I surprisingly ate more than I thought I could ingest, but it was the best food I’d had in the longest time. After having my fill, I washed up and got ready for the day. It was somehow colder than nighttime, so I slipped into black sweats and paired it with warm socks and a clean pair of sneakers. Pulling my hair into its usual bun, I headed out towards the library where Mrs. Beaumont yesterday said she would be.
“Ms. Mendez?” a man appeared just before the library, dressed formally.
“Yes?”
“I’m Mrs. Beaumont’s butler, Johanne. I’ll guide you to her.”
I nodded and followed him down the hallway towards the library. He led me inside and we walked deep within the bookshelves. It had been a while of walking and I was starting to get suspicious about where he was taking me, until the shelves suddenly gave away to a lush garden that took the breath right out of my chest.
Looking around in awe, my eyes couldn’t get enough of the hidden garden. Plants were in full bloom all over the place, the splash of colors almost dizzying accompanied with their sweet scents blending into each other. Sunlight filtered through the thick canopies of the thick trees that towered above us, falling onto a beautiful, gigantic fountain in the center of the place. I could only wonder how many years it must’ve taken to tend to the place and make it what it was. It was absolutely incredible.
Mrs. Beaumont at a round woven tea table set, sipping away from a mug.
“Good morning.” she greeted, not looking up from the newspaper, “I can tell it’s going to be a very peaceful week already.”
“Anything in particular happened?” I asked and sat down across from her, thumbing through a file already laid out for me. His picture was the first thing that caught my eye. My gaze ran over his features a few times, a little surprised. He did look quite like his parents, but it was the visible scar running from his brow, past his eyes, and down to his cheek that piqued my curiosity.
Guasparre Ricci, I read. Age: 35; Height: 6’-1”; Occupation: CEO of Ricci and Sons Pvt.
His hair was parted to the side, silky black waves running down to his shoulders that tucked neatly behind his ears. His brows were heavy but neat, and he was heterochromatic. One brown eye, warm and calm. The other a piercing blue like a cold storm at sea, and the scar didn’t help quell the impression much. His face was clean shaven, revealing a strong facial structure that was sure to make any woman swoon.
He’s definitely their son, I nodded mentally.
How on Earth was this guy having trouble finding a partner? On another note, what ever could have given him such a scar?
“What makes you say that?” I replied, realizing I’d forgotten she was there for a moment.
“Renée called me a while ago. I’d forwarded the evidence of Blair’s unethical behavior towards you a few days. Seems like the child got an earful.”
“Blair’s hardly a child.” I rolled my eyes, “She’s a year older than I am.”
“And you act like you’re in your sixties,” she said pointedly with a turn of the page, “so perhaps I should start addressing you as an old woman, too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mrs. Beaumont’s eyes finally dragged over to me. I sat with knees knocked together, fists in my lap. Why did I suddenly feel so agitated?
“You’re well aware, Lilith.”
“I’m not.”
With a sigh, she folds her papers away and turns to me with her mug nestled in her palms, her eyes scanning me with seriousness.
“Look,” she started carefully, “I understand you have a very hard time connecting with people in general. In all my years of teaching, I’ve never met anyone as complexed and far-sighted as you are.”
I looked at her in confusion, wondering what she was trying to say. “Um, thanks?”
“There aren’t many years left to your youth.” her voice was kind, “I understand that you’ve led a life far difficult than what is fair on anyone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t live the life you lost.”
Oh… the realization dawned on me. She was concerned about my singledom.
“I’m fine on my own.” I breathed deeply and opened Guasparre’s file again.
Mrs. Beaumont only sighed, “I have faith you’ll make sense of things with time. You deserve to be cared for, you know?”
“I do that just fine on my own.”
“Tsk-tsk.” She shook her head and went back to reading her newspaper. Did Cristo say something to her yesterday? I couldn’t be sure. He was too busy trying to deal with Blair. He wouldn’t have the time for me.