The Slave of Pleasure
Chapter 82

Rachel

As Vincenzo and I talked that quiet night, I was surprised at how light the atmosphere between us seemed. That usual weight that seemed to surround him, and that I often felt around him, had completely disappeared. We laughed about old stories, embarrassing moments and small incidents that, deep down, made us more human, more connected.

After a good laugh, something came to mind. I smiled and picked up my cell phone. Vincenzo looked at me curiously. "What are you doing?" he asked, with an arched eyebrow, a little suspicious.

"Trust me," I replied, winking at him before opening a video call with Nancy. As soon as she answered, she seemed surprised and happy, even with the late hour.

"Rachel! What's up?" she asked, curious and probably expecting some bombshell news.

I laughed and showed the camera to Vincenzo, who smiled at her. "Hi, Nancy," he said, and I could see a slight surprise on her face at how relaxed he was.

"Wait, you two together? What's going on?" Nancy asked, with that playful tone that only she could use.

I laughed. "Nothing much, Nancy. We were talking about childhood stories, and I thought I'd invite you to join in. Do you have any funny stories from your childhood to share?"

Nancy laughed and took a few seconds, probably deciding which of her crazy adventures she was going to tell. "Oh, I have a bunch! Do you guys really want to hear them?" she said with a mischievous laugh. "Absolutely!" Vincenzo and I replied in unison, which made us laugh again.

Nancy began to tell about the time when, at the age of five, she decided to cut her own hair to "look like her favorite doll." She took out the hidden scissors and, with the greatest confidence in the world, gave herself a "new hairstyle." But, of course, the result was a disaster. "I looked like a porcupine," she confessed, laughing. "My mother almost had a fit when she saw me."

I laughed so hard that tears were streaming down my eyes, and when I looked over, I saw Vincenzo holding back a laugh. It was funny to imagine little Nancy with a terrible haircut, but with the same confidence she has today.

"It wasn't just that," Nancy continued, enjoying the attention. "There was this one time I hid in the pantry at home to try all the chocolates my mother had hidden for Christmas. I ate so much that I felt sick for days. And, of course, my older brother made sure to tell on me."

"That's just like Nancy," Vincenzo said, laughing.

Nancy laughed on the other end of the line. "Yeah! And who would have thought that one day I would end up as a nurse, taking care of other people's health. Ironic, huh?"

The call became more and more entertaining. Nancy told us stories about when she ran away from home to go "camping" in the neighbor's backyard, and even about when she tried to make a magic potion by mixing all the perfumes and cleaning products she could replace in the house. "Result: the bathroom was uninhabitable for weeks," she confessed.

Vincenzo, holding back a laugh, looked at me. "I didn't think Nancy was so creative when it came to mischief."

"Oh, you have no idea what she's done," I replied, winking at him.

Nancy snorted playfully. "Hey, you two! Don't gang up on me!"

The three of us were laughing, and it was amazing to feel how much those little moments, even from a distance, could connect us so much. I felt that, more than a friend, Nancy was becoming an important part of my life, and now, for the first time, she was also getting closer to Vincenzo.

When we finally hung up, I turned to him, still smiling. "Did you know Nancy was so... Nancy?" I asked, laughing.

He smiled and shook his head. "No, but it's nice to know that side of her. And even more so, to see how you and she have such a strong friendship."

I nodded, still feeling the warmth of the moment. That day and night, full of laughter and stories, had become an unforgettable memory. It was as if we were all, somehow, building something more real.

As soon as the butler entered, the atmosphere in the room changed completely. The serious expression on his face made me feel a twinge of concern, and I knew something important was about to happen. Vincenzo sat up in bed, immediately alert.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice firm and full of expectation.

The butler, with his eyes lowered, seemed to hesitate before answering. "You have a visitor," he said, formal and restrained.

I felt my stomach churn. It was late at night, and the presence of a visitor at this time seemed unusual. "Who could it be at this hour?" I asked quietly, not knowing what to expect.

Vincenzo narrowed his eyes, and I watched the tension building on his face. The butler didn't have to answer directly, but the way he lowered his head indicated that the situation was delicate. I looked between the two of them, curiosity and fear mixing within me.

"It's someone you know," the butler added, somewhat hesitantly.

Vincenzo got up from the bed, already putting on his most controlled, almost cold expression, as if he were preparing to face something he would perhaps rather avoid. I felt my breath catch as I hung up the call with Nancy, promising her that I would call her back later. She noticed the strange tone in my voice, but agreed, saying goodbye quickly.

Vincenzo walked towards the door with long, determined strides, but I knew that, inside, he was restless. Something in the air told me that the situation was more complicated than it seemed. I followed him, a few steps behind, as if I could help him simply by being there. My mind was full of questions, but I kept them silent, wanting to respect his space.

When he opened the front door of the mansion, the cold night wind blew past us. Vincenzo paused for a second, as if gathering his strength, and then said loudly, almost as an exclamation full of surprise and discomfort: "Veronica!" I felt the impact of that name as if it were an explosion of tension. Veronica. Who was she? I had no idea who this person could be, but the way Vincenzo called her, it was clear that there was a complex history between the two of them. I stood still, watching the scene, my heart racing. I didn't know if I should walk away and leave them alone or if I should stay there, offering some kind of support. Vincenzo was standing firm, but I could feel the tension in his shoulders, which made me uneasy.

Veronica entered the lobby with a confident bearing, impeccably dressed, and I couldn't help but notice the penetrating gaze she gave Vincenzo. It was as if every detail around her didn't matter; she only saw him. Seeing her, something inside me stirred, a mixture of curiosity and a slight discomfort. She seemed so at ease in the situation, even with Vincenzo's obvious discomfort. I felt like, for now at least, I belonged by his side. "Vincenzo," she said, her voice soft but full of meaning. Her presence radiated a kind of mysterious charm and, at the same time, an imposing strength.

He maintained his composure, but I could tell that every word she uttered seemed to carry weight for him. Watching the silent exchange between the two of them, I felt like I was spying on something deeply personal and painful. "Rachel, go to your room," Vincenzo said, his eyes never leaving Veronica's, as if he were trying to shield me from something he couldn't quite put into words.

My initial instinct was to stay and figure out what was going on, but I could tell how much he needed his own space in this situation. Reluctantly, I took a step back, nodding silently.

"Anything... I'll be here," I murmured, even though I knew he probably wouldn't answer. He was immersed in another reality, one that I was only beginning to realize I didn't fully understand.

As I walked away, I felt a mix of emotions: curiosity to know more, concern for Vincenzo, and a sense that something big was about to happen.