The studio has become her sanctuary and when we’re lucky enough, we’re able to see some of the projects she creates.
“Yeah, I’m going soon, but aren’t you meant to be meeting your mom, like, now?” Kennedy mentions, checking the time on her phone.
My gut twists. I forgot. “Shit, Ken, you could have told me to come back earlier. I need to shower and get the smell of sex off me,” I exclaim, rushing around to the other side of the kitchen to grab my towel out of the airing cupboard.
“Oh, let’s all blame Kennedy,” she mocks before adding, “I didn’t want to interrupt your sexy time. The last time I did, you threatened to burn my Jasmine James shrine,” she shouts to me from the kitchen when I get into my room down the hall.
“Yeah because you worship her like an insane person,” I shout back. “Next time, at least text me. My mom is going to freak out.”
* * *
The Voss household has one rule: don’t be late but if you are, come bearing gifts. After a quick shower and replacing my minidress with a dark blue pantsuit, I stopped off atCane’sand bought enough chicken sandwich meals to feed a pack of lions before pulling into my family estate.
Maybe it’s always been in the air, and I forgot about it. Or maybe it’s intensified since my dad has been in the hospital — but there’s been something deeply unsettling about the Voss mansion.
Growing up here, the deep brown stone walls became comforting. It felt normal as our family assistant, Mia, greeted us in the entryway and pestered us with reminders or refreshments. Even the larger-than-life portrait, of my great-great-grandfather Carlo Voss, that hangs over the dining room table has become welcoming. But moving out is still one of the best things to ever happen to me. Not only has it given me the chance to hang out with my best friends 24/7, but I’m no longer being ridiculed by my four older brothers who were lucky enough to have access to the family business the second they turned eighteen.
I’ve always known I’d have to work for my spot in the family, the second I realised that I’m the only woman - apart from my mother - who has ever been involved in the Voss family business. My eldest brother, Alexander, moved to London a few years ago and is managing our designer clothing brand on that side of the world. The twins, Arthur, and Leo have taken comfortable positions as customer service managers. While Arthur chases after the role as the eldest Voss son, Leo is usually off in a corner smoking weed. Henry is working his way up to help with graphic designs.
It’s bad to have a favourite, I know, but Henry has always understood me more than my other brothers. We’re only two years apart and since he has a six-year age gap with the twins, he understands what it’s like to be out of the loop sometimes. As much as I like to believe that I know him better than anyone, I should have seen it coming when he captured me in a hug the second I walked through the door.
“Hey, you’re going to squash the sandwiches,” I muffle before pushing away from his embrace. I almost topple back on my heels when I register his face in front of me. He has the same set of dark features I do – dark arched eyebrows, slick black hair that falls onto his forehead and a lined dimple on his right cheek. I swear he looks older every time I see him, which makesmefeel old.
“I’ll take those out of your hands,” he teases, trying to pull at the bag. I put the bag behind my back as I brush past him. I walk down the mile-long foyer until I reach the kitchen, placing the bags on the counter.
“Are the twins home?” I ask Henry who has eagerly followed behind me. I pull out some plates from the cupboard and lay them onto the glass countertop. He reaches over into the bag, and I swat his hand away. He pouts.
“No, Arthur is visiting dad and Leo’ssomewhere,” Henry replies, drumming his fingers onto the table. I finally tear open the bags of food and start to share out Henry and I some food. I swear the boy's mouth starts to water.
“And why aren’t you there?” I ask, pulling a seat out from the island and sitting down. Henry props himself up on the counter.
“I could ask you the same question,” he challenges.
I don’t bother to fight him on it. Since our dad, the current heir to the Voss dynasty, randomly fell into a coma, it’s been hard to see him.
My dad and I were always close. When I was younger, my dad would tell me tales of how the clothing business came to be and all the scary stories that stemmed from his family back in our small town in Italy. He would tell those stories to frighten me. To scare me away from the business. To see it as this evil thing that I’d never want to be a part of so I could watch from the sidelines with my mother when it eventually burned to the ground. That only excited me more. It challenged me. It made me want to work harder than ever to prove that I’m as good - or better - than my brothers.It is a dirty and filthy world, amore mio,my dad would say,it’s not for perfect people like you.
My dad is a healthy man, so when he mysteriously got ill, I knew it wasn’t an accident. Everyone has been too afraid to even humour the fact that he could have been attacked. But not me. I may have no proof, evidence, or any sort of motive, but I’m working on it. Sort-of.
“I’ll see him soon,” I say, disguising my guilt with a bite of my sandwhich. With a flourish — and I swear I see glitter falling — our mom rushes into the kitchen with her arms wide.
“Oh, Scarlett, love,” my mom announces, sauntering towards me in a purple gown. If having four brothers isn’t enough overprotectiveness, I also have my mother.
I shoot Hen a look to intervene because I don’t want my mom on my case right now.
“Mom! Fancy seeing you here,” Henry exclaims, jumping off the counter and placing his arms on our mom’s shoulders, intersecting her path to me. He turns back and grins at me. I furrow my eyebrows at him and tell him to tone it down a notch. “Scarlett doesn’t feel like embracing you right now, but by all means, act as if you haven’t seen her in years. From a distance.”
“Why? What’s wrong? Is she sick?” my mom quizzes. She pushes Henry out of the way and comes to face me, placing her hands on my cheeks. “Are you sick? What’s the matter with you?”
“Jesus, mom, I just didn’t want you all up in my face,” I groan, prying her hands off me. She pushes her dark brown hair over her shoulder. Considering the fact that her husband is in the hospital, she seems pretty put together. As always.
“First you want to move out and now you don’t even want to hug me. What’s next? You’re going to run away and elope,” she sighs frantically, dropping into the chair beside me. I laugh as I nudge the food towards her, and she grins.
“I’m sorry but you’ve got to forgive me because I have food,” I beam, popping a fry into my mouth. “Why did you want to see me?”
“It’s your dad…” she begins dramatically, poking at the tray of food. Henry comes around to the other side of the island, his forearms leaning on the table.
“What? Is something wrong?” he asks, his eyebrows knitted together with concern. Mom shakes her head, dipping her fry into some sauce before chewing thoughtfully. If there is one thing about Lara Voss, she will create tension wherever she goes for no reason at all.
