As soon as the elevator doors open, I spot Lizzie at her desk. She looks up from whatever she was doing and rises from her seat. I pick up my pace, but she scurries in front of my door, blocking my entrance to it.
“Don’t get used to it.” She sneers, with her arm stretched in the doorway.
“Oh, hi, Lizzie, how are you?” I say sarcastically, trying to bring attention to her—as usual—rude demeanor.
“The attention,” she says, dramatically bobbing her neck as she speaks, which makes her bright auburn hair bounce obnoxiously.
“The attention? What are you getting at, Lizzie? Just speak your mind.” I have no time for this.
“I see the way he looks at you.” There is a sadness that radiates through her bitchy attitude.
There is so much I can say to her in my defense, but it would only be like throwing salt on her still-healing wounds. So, I refrain. Judging by the broken tone of her voice, it’s clear that whatever was between them must have been ended on his account. That, or it was possibly one-sided.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I lie. I feel for Lizzie, but at the same time, I feel foolish. I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m not the first employee he has fucked.
Lizzie looks flustered, as though she wasn’t prepared for how passionate she is getting talking about this. “You’re not fooling me, Sienna, just be careful. The only thing that hurts more than his touch is when he renders you useless and moves on to his next conquest,” she warns.
I look at Lizzie, who went from angry to oddly sincere. It was her way of extending an olive branch, I guess.
Thankfully, a phone call comes in, diverting Lizzie’s attention back to her desk, allowing me to head to my office and get on with my day. First thing I want to do is finally call Titi Lana so she can fill me in on what the hell she was doing at the warehouse today.
But my focus is stolen as soon as I open the door to my office. My stomach drops when I see the black box from Carmine’s brownstone. The box that he snapped at me for attempting to unlock before he opened me up to another world of pleasure I never knew existed.
Confused as to why this is in my office, I walk toward the box in the center of my desk, where I see an envelope. What makes me feel unsettled before I open the box or the note attached is that Carmine was so adamant about me not opening it last night that I doubt he would just leave it here on my desk, like nothing happened. Who left it here? Better yet, who stole it?
I open the envelope and unfold the note that is inside. With a trembling hand, I begin to read the handwritten note.
“The sins his father committed against you don’t hold a candle to what he stole from you. His father killed your parents, but he killed someone else you used to hold dear.”
I fall to the floor by my desk with the note in hand. I was so eager to read what was in the envelope that I didn’t notice there was something else inside. My heart races as I see what appears to be the back of a polaroid picture now on the floor next to me. Hands trembling, I reach for the polaroid and slowly begin to flip it over.
A guttural screech escapes my mouth as I drop the picture. It now lies face up in front of me, and I bring both my hands to my mouth. Trying to hold in the nausea I feel forming in the pit of my stomach. Staring at me, is a picture of Leo and me. Not just any picture, but the picture I had hanging in my room before I left for the city.
It is then I come to the disturbing realization that I have not only fucked the enemy, but Leo’s killer.
Chapter44
Carmine
12 YEARS AGO
Darkness.
I try to open my swollen, aching eyes, but all I see is the bleak, pitch-black abyss ridding me of the ability to process where I am. I feel myself slipping into the ruinous role I was predestined for.
I am pulled from my racing thoughts by the press of cold steel against my wounded body. Once the realization that the cold, sharp point of the scalpel is slicing my flesh, panic sets in. As the scalpel slices through what feels like my temple, I go numb as each cut goes deeper, as if it is about to reduce me to a skeletal form.
I should be fully sedated, but I guess that is an insignificant detail when forced against your own will. My limbs and torso are strapped to the table, I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. Whatever they gave me is strong enough to make my body feel heavy, like quicksand is encapsulating me, increasing with each passing second.
I feel numb, yet fully aware, slowly fading into what I can only assume is my body’s response to the trauma I have just endured. And now here I am, about to endure more trauma from the man I should look up to more than anyone in this world. He is showing me his scars, while giving me more. Each sting of physical pain is only solidifying my twisted fate.
I want to scream, but the pain is so intense that screaming for help seems useless. I try to wiggle my limbs, but the restraints are so tight I am barely able to move. Another cold slice penetrates my skin, and then more darkness somehow takes over until there is nothing, until I am nothing.
I drift off, not sure if I am dreaming or if I am finally leaving my earthly form and on to whatever realm lurks beyond this earth. I don’t believe in Heaven or Hell, so maybe I will become dust. Particles blown about in air and quickly forgotten.
Time passes. How much, I am unaware.
I wake up sometime later and open my eyes, still seeing nothing. Everything is dark.
