Amapola

I’m not sure what happened, but Salvatore put one person to sleep and woke up another completely different. He was so cold with me that I felt... humiliated. Was it the presence of his brothers, or had I been deluding myself about a reality that never truly existed? It must be that; after all, a mafia boss would never show compassion for a prisoner.
As I took a shower, I reflected on my decision from last night and considered how foolish I had been—very foolish, in fact. I had my freedom in my hands and let it slip through my fingers. Now, here I was again, like Rapunzel, trapped in the tower of a castle.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, I saw that Angela had left my only set of clean clothes on the bed. I dressed, knowing that soon Salvatore would call me to seal my fate after his brothers returned. He would send me to another place; I just hoped my new captivity wouldn’t bring more trauma than I had already experienced.
"Bambina?" Angela called my attention. I was so distracted, staring out the window, that I hadn’t noticed when she entered. "The signore is waiting for you to mangiare."
"Downstairs?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes, beautiful. He’s waiting at the table with his brothers."
"Maybe it’s better if I—" I started to justify, but she interrupted me.
"Don’t defy him, child. Don’t make things harder for yourself." It was a piece of advice but also a warning. I realized that she meant well; I trusted her.
Feeling embarrassed under the four incredulous gazes that stared at me, I sat at the table after delivering the medications he needed to take in the morning. I had everything ready when Angela arrived to take them to his room, but knowing he would be having breakfast, I decided to bring them.
I knew I should remain silent; the conversation wasn’t directed at me. But when he yelled at the only man who had defended me besides him, I spoke up to defend him. It was the least I could do since he had done the same for me. Salvatore’s reaction surprised me. And when he stormed up the stairs, making us all stand, I followed him. I needed to apply a bandage to his wounds; I was sure he hadn’t done it, and it couldn’t be left exposed.
Even though he was reluctant, he allowed me to tend to him and mentioned that we would be traveling when he returned. He asked about Amadeu, or rather, about how I felt about him, and I noticed a hint of distress and disgust in his voice. Was it jealousy, or was I reading too much into it?
I was honest with him; I thought that was how it should be. When he ordered me to pack my things for the trip, I almost smiled. What would I pack when all I had was the outfit I was wearing? My momentary irritation might stem from the fact that he would leave me somewhere else. Deep down, I wanted to be near him for a bit longer, but I would never say that out loud, not even under torture.
Around eleven in the morning, Angela called me, asking me to come downstairs because there was a delivery for me. I found it strange; after all, what could this delivery be? No one knew I was there, and besides my father, I had no one who could send me anything.
I stepped out of my room and almost fell down the stairs when I saw it—a whole shop set up in Salvatore's mansion. I couldn’t even count how many clothing racks there were. There were bags, shoes, sandals, coats—so many options that I couldn’t believe it when Angela led me to some women who I thought were working in the store that had been set up.
"Your delivery, bambina," she said with a smile. "Signore Salvatore asked me to arrange this."
I quickly scanned everything, standing close to the coat rack, my hands gliding over the soft fabrics.
"Angela, you didn’t have to do this. You could have picked an outfit like the one I’m wearing. How can I choose from so many beautiful things?"
"You don’t have to choose, bella; it’s all yours," she said, and I choked.
"What?" I shook my hands in denial. "I can’t accept this, Angela. One or two more outfits is enough."
"Yes, Amapola, you can and will accept it. Unless you don’t like something, but I’m sure you’ll need all of this," she warned with a smile.
"No, Angela, you’re mistaken. Before we leave, he said we would travel, and he’ll leave me somewhere else."
"He said that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"He said I should be ready for the trip."
"There you go, my dear, just choose what you want to take. The rest will stay in your room; you’ll return, beautiful; I have no doubt about it."
She left me alone to dismiss the women who I now knew had come only to deliver the items and not to let me choose. Then she called some security guards to take the clothing racks upstairs.
Angela handed me a suitcase to pack my things and said that when I returned, everything would be in its proper place. As I picked out what to take, I was amazed; there were more pieces than I had ever owned in my life.
Formal dresses, party dresses, some casual ones, pants, boots, skirts, various blouses, overcoats, jackets, blazers, bags—there were so many items that they could dress almost an entire province. What was Angela thinking when she ordered so many things? I was sure Salvatore wouldn’t be pleased with her decision.

I chose two pairs of jeans, four beautiful blouses with prints—two that tied at the waist, which would show a bit of my stomach, but nothing too attention-grabbing. I also picked a blazer and a long coat, thinking it might be too much, but it was hard not to feel excited with so many options. I selected a denim skirt and a loose-fitting short dress, allowing myself to enjoy that momentary luxury with a smile on my lips.
There were three large boxes set aside, and I opened them to see what was inside since everything else was on display. I almost choked at the sheer amount and variety of lingerie and nightgowns. My God, I was used to sleeping in the same clothes I wore during the day, and now I had the most beautiful nightgowns I had ever seen in my hands. The fabrics were so delicate that they seemed to caress my skin with a simple touch.
I chose a few pieces, along with two pairs of boots and a pair of flat sandals. I closed the suitcase, knowing that if I left it open, I wouldn’t stop adding things to it, even though I doubted I would ever wear them.