4

Chapter 4 - Clearing Things Up

Fortunately, Giovanni didn't try to enter her room.

Brenda got out of bed after a night of not being able to sleep very well. She had breakfast and set about unpacking her luggage and exploring the house calmly.

She observed the photographs decorating the living room, all of them of Giovanni with various people, except for a wedding photo, presumably of his parents.

The man in the photo resembled his son, only with a less fierce, more friendly expression; the tough expression he had inherited from his mother, undoubtedly.

One photo caught her attention, taken in front of a large company with the sign "Stella d'oro." Apparently, that was the name of the magazine where he worked, and his family owned it.

Giovanni appeared in a photo with a very beautiful girl, he had his arms around her shoulders, and her face reminded her of having seen it at the courthouse.

"Perhaps he referred to her when he said he had his sexual and emotional life covered."

"Could she be his girlfriend? No, in that case, he wouldn't have married me, but she could very well be his lover."

She made a face because he hadn't talked to her about her, and she told herself that even though it was absurd, they should tell each other those kinds of things.

...

Giovanni returned home at six in the evening.

Brenda had lunch by heating up the pasta that was in the fridge, which, by the way, was delicious, and then she had started drawing for a while to pass the time and relax.

She didn't dare to go out because she didn't have keys and she also didn't know what time Giovanni would return.

"How did you spend the day?" was the first thing he asked as soon as he entered the apartment.

"Well, a little bored, but I couldn't go out because I didn't have keys.”

"Sorry, I forgot to give you a lock yesterday. I tried to come earlier to chat for a while and agree on everything related to the house, but I couldn't. Sometimes my job is very demanding and has no fixed schedule."

Giovanni reached into his leather jacket pocket and pulled out a package.

Brenda looked at him questioningly.

He opened the plastic bag and took out a thick padlock.

"Is it strong enough? Will it make you feel secure enough?" he said jokingly.

"Yes, I think so."

Giovanni looked her up and down as she sat on the sofa, with the drawing notebook in hand. She was wearing light and tight jeans and a dark green long-sleeved shirt.

"Well! I see that during the day you wear normal clothes. Thank goodness, I didn't feel like seeing you with rollers and your grandmother's or mother's robe when I come home."

"You think you're very funny, don't you?"

Without answering her, he tossed several brochures on the table. The pockets of his jacket seemed bottomless.

"They are brochures from drawing academies, you can choose the one you like the most to enroll."

"Which one do you recommend?"

"I don't know them, I'm not an artist. I understand this one is the best," he said, pointing to a ticket, "but it's a bit far away and you'll have to take an aptitude test."

"I'd like to give it a try."

"Tomorrow I'll send a friend to accompany you. I'll be very busy and won't be able to do it, but Marco will take you and help you with the procedures if you're interested. He'll also show you which bus to take to go and come back."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, it's my part of the deal. I don't want you to leave after two days thinking I won't fulfill it. And these are the keys to the apartment. The square one is for the lock upstairs, the round one is for downstairs, and this black one is for the front door."

"Okay.”

He placed a written paper back on the table.

"These are the shifts for taking care of the house, food, and laundry. I don't want you to think I brought you to Italy to exploit you. We'll share the household chores. To start, I'll take care of the kitchen this week until you get used to it, and I'll always handle the shopping because I usually get it from the supermarket; they give us special prices there. Make a list of what you need or fancy, and I'll bring it to you."

"You have it all planned out, don't you?"

"If you have a better proposal, I'm open to dialogue."

Brenda glanced at the papers.

"No, it sounds good to me," she nodded. "Thanks again for taking care of my academy."

"It wasn't me. Francesca took care of everything; she's my assistant."

"Then thank her for me."

"You can thank her yourself. The company usually organizes a welcome dinner for all the new spouses, and all the staff will be there; you'll meet her soon."

"Wasn't Francesca at the wedding?"

"She was at the courthouse, but she preferred not to come to the dinner."

Giovanni took the padlock and headed towards Brenda's bedroom. A while later, he returned to the living room.

"Now you have the bunker prepared against my possible attacks."

"You can make fun all you want, but I'm not going to sleep with a stranger without taking precautions."

"I'm not a stranger; I'm your beloved husband."

"I don't care what you are; I don't trust you."

"I'll repeat again, I'm not that desperate. If I've ordered a woman from a catalog, it's because I don't want anyone to think they have rights over me," he sharpened the blade, sending a shiver down her spine. "Let it be clear that this is a deal and nothing more, not because I can't get a woman to sleep with. Now you can sleep soundly."

"Now with the padlock, I will."

"And when you're not in your room protected by it? Who's to say I won't try to rape you right here in the living room right now?"

Giovanni approached menacingly, and Brenda looked at him with frightened eyes.

"Do you think being awake will make you able to deal with me if I try something?"

Brenda understood he was right and shrunk back on the couch. He laughed again and calmly moved away towards the kitchen.

"If you want to live peacefully, I think you'll have to learn to trust me, Brenda."

He picked up the jacket he had left on a chair and prepared to hang it on the coat rack by the entrance, which was next to the kitchen.

Suddenly, he turned back to her.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" he said, approaching again and handing her a bundle of bills. "This is money for your expenses. Do you think it'll be enough?"

She took it, not daring to look him in the face in case he tried something.

"I don't know. I don't know how much things cost here."

"If it's not enough, let me know, and I'll give you more. But don't abuse it."

"I have money; my parents opened an account in my name," she frowned, offended.

"Keep it. I can afford to support my wife."

"I don't want to be supported. When I finish my studies, I trust I'll support myself," she lifted her chin.

Giovanni continued to look at her, mocking.

"Well, we have an independent one here!" And without saying anything else, he went into the kitchen.