I forever place everyone’s needs before my own.
My inability to place myself first is the only reason I didn’t replace the sauce stains on India’s blouse with blood. Believe me, it was hard walking away. It took all my strength.
Do I feel like the better person? No, I don’t. But at least I didn’t force Fien to witness more violence than she already has in her short life.
My deliberation gets a much-needed intermission when a tiny gust of air trickles into my ears. My door isn’t locked. Excluding Rocco, no one comes down here. I usually hear the clumps of his boots long before he knocks on my door. That didn’t happen this time around. My greeter’s steps sounded as weightless as a feather.
Curious, I prop myself onto my elbows before I stray my eyes to the door. My heart pitter-patters in my chest when I spot an envelope on the floor mere inches from the carved wooden door. It isn’t overly fancy, but the gilded cardboard inside of it most certainly is.
I creep toward the envelope like it could explode at any moment. When it fails to detonate, I scoop down and gather it up, breathing easier when I notice it is minus a single smear of spaghetti sauce.
Although my inquisitiveness is demanding for me to open the envelope this very instant, a much higher, much more willful stubbornness sees me opening the door to my room instead.
“Audrey…” I call out, certain she is the owner of the red locks swishing around the corner. Her hair is beautiful and healthy since she never chemically bleached it to change its natural coloring. I often envy it when I need a moment of reprieve from Dimitri’s glaring stare across the dining room table. He wanted me uncomfortable enough not to eat. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I gobbled down my meals like my stomach wasn’t bulging against the zipper in my pants, begging for some room. Then, when it produced the infamous half-smirk Dimitri would give anything to remove from his face, I tackled dessert as well.
When Audrey fails to hear my shout, I re-enter my room, close the door, then rip open the envelope like a savage. If my deliverer is who I think it was, something major must be happening. I haven’t had many interactions with Audrey the past three days, but everyone we’ve had has involved Dimitri in some way.
The twinge of rejection I’ve been struggling to ignore the past four days gets a boost when my eyes scan a handwritten invitation. There’s no indication it was meant to be addressed to me, and its prose indicates it’s for an event way above my level of sophistication, but I act ignorant.
The event at an exclusive nightclub commences two hours before I’m due to fly out.
Its timing couldn’t be more perfect.
My value hasn’t decreased because Dimitri no longer sees my worth. If anything, it has increased because he helped me find the strength to believe I’m worth more than nothing, and now I have the chance to expose exactly how valuable I am.
A smirk etches onto my mouth when Rocco takes a staggering step back. “What the fuck, Princess P? I thought I was driving you to the airport?” As he chews on the corner of his lower lip, he rakes his eyes over my body-hugging strapless top, skintight leather pants, and pumps that would make most men cream their pants just at the thought of having them curled around their sweaty hips. It killed me trying to squeeze my ballooned foot into the tiny opening of my stiletto, but I made it work, determined it added to the authenticity of my ruse. “That outfitisnotflight appropriate. I’m not even sure it’s club-worthy.” I realize I hit the bullseye when he grabs his crotch, wordlessly begging for it to calm down. “It’s gonna give D a heart attack.”
“Good.” I snatch up my denim jacket and clutch purse from a set of drawers next to the door, then bump Rocco with my hip to barge him into the corridor so I can latch the lock into place. “Because that is theexactlook I was aiming for.”
Rocco’s smile has me convinced even if my plan backfires, I will survive it. It won’t be an all-encompassing life full of light-altering moments with wickedly deviate spankings, but I will still be breathing. “We’re not going to the airport, are we?”
I hit him with a frisky wink. “No. We’re going to a specialinvitation-onlyevent.”
“Hold up, Roxie.” He reduces the length of my stride by grabbing my arm. “You need an invitation for aninvitation-onlyevent.”
The fact he assumes I don’t have an invite makes it obvious the one slipped under my door four hours ago wasn’t for me. It doesn’t weaken my objective, though. Tonight is my last opportunity to prove to Dimitri that this war was started with lies, so it can’t end until the truth is revealed.
“Where the fuck did you get that?” Rocco asks when I slide a gold-gilded slip of cardboard out of my clutch purse.
“Where I got it from doesn’t matter. It’s howweuse it that counts,” I reply before making a beeline for the exit like butterflies aren’t fluttering a million miles an hour in my stomach.
I hear Rocco say something to Smith before he joins me at the end of the corridor. I grow panicked I misunderstood his wish to stir Dimitri at every opportunity when he snatches up my wrist before I break into the main part of India’s house—the lit section.
My worry is unfounded. He isn’t foiling my endeavor to show Dimitri I’m still on his side. He’s strengthening it. “Put this away before we head out. Smith isn’t the only one watching.”
While shoving the invitation he returned to me into my purse with enough force to crease it, I drift my eyes in the direction he nudged his head. Unlike days ago when we entered this residence, a camera sits in the corner of the spotlessly clean space. It is clear it’s new because not only has the pricy wallpaper been peeled away from the wall to accommodate a set of shiny screws, the domes housing them were only invented by Smith two months ago. He showed me his drawings of their designs when Dimitri was drugged. He was hoping Dimitri would integrate them into his security system within the year. I’m glad Dimitri hasn’t shunted all his teams’ ideas.
“If you want Dimitri to believe you’re following orders, you might want to quit smiling.” Rocco licks his lips before doing another quick sweep of my body. “And you should probably change.”
With my mood as sassy as the glint in his eyes, I reply, “There’s no time for that.”
Once I’m certain my face represents a scorned woman, I march across the foyer of India’s home, struggling not to whimper at the pain in both my foot and my stomach. Forever willing to push the boundaries when it comes to Dimitri, Rocco snatches up a random set of suitcases before he shadows my walk, his demeanor as moody as mine. Even with my room being on the lower level of the compound, I still heard the words he exchanged with Dimitri when news of my departure reached his ears. He called Dimitri a heap of names, his tirade only ending when I assured him I was happy to leave.
Shame filled Rocco’s face. He thought I was giving up without a fight, unaware if you have to fight another woman for your man, you’ve already lost him.
Tonight isn’t solely about showing Dimitri what he gave up. It’s baring my strengths, displaying that I may have been knocked down, but I still got back up, and that I’m not just a force to be reckoned with. Come hell or high water, I’ll be your judge, jury, and executioner if you do me wrong.
Killing my unborn baby is as low as it gets. Despite what Dr. Klein says, I was pregnant with Dimitri’s child, and the woman determined to hurt him killed our baby.
