Page 27 of Lilies from Hell

“I’m afraid not, miss.”

His answer is all I need to make my legs move to my bedroom, my anxiety reaching its limit. A luxurious white bag rests on the desk. It appears larger than the others I have been receiving, which the house staff has sneaked into my room for a generous tip.

I lock the door and examine the large bag in my hands. With each passing day, my suitor seems to grow more exasperated, trying to get my attention with extravagant gifts that don’t interest me.

Inside are more flowers. I was expecting the same bouquet I’ve been receiving, but this one is simpler. A few red roses. I turn my attention to a small box. I open it to find the latest model iPhone. I don’t really like new technology, so I soon forgot the phone between my sheets as I focused on the pendant with the silhouette of a scorpion. It’s pretty. Perhaps I’ll keep it for a while until I find out how much it’s worth and can sell it to someone, just like the phone and the bag.

Then I go in search of an empty vase to put the flowers in, deciding that I’m going to keep them. Glancing out, I saw only the graying sky, signaling another stormy night.

I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at my cell phone. The screen is now lit up with a missed call notification. I don’t remember turning it on. My heart races with foolish thoughts as I toss this bouquet of black roses into the bin, joining the others I’ve thrown away lately.

As the minutes tick by, it's time for me to get ready for my usual Thursday lunch at the same restaurant with my parents and Jason. I'm looking forward to distracting myself from this whole situation with some good food.

I stir the salad in front of me. Jason next to me gobbles up everything he can and more, catching some curious glances from the other people in the restaurant. Noticing my mother’s disapproving eyes, he stops chewing and smiles, now eating a little more slowly.

I can’t stand the feeling in my stomach anymore. I get up, using the bathroom as an excuse to freshen up and hopefully regain my appetite. My parents, engrossed in a conversation about which hotel they’re going to open next, and my brother, absorbed in his chicken breast, did not notice me leave.

There is no line for the women’s restroom, but for the men’s restroom there is a man in a suit waiting with his back turned, his face completely hidden.

After washing my face and lightly wetting my hair, I leave the bathroom and encounter the man who had been waiting. I murmur a quick apology and rush back to the table, losing my appetite completely.

The sun was setting as I arrived home. I said goodnight to my family, went to my room, put on pajamas, and called Grace as I usually do before bed. Today, however, she didn’t answer. She’s probably out partying, so I go on social media and check some chats.

The guys I’ve been talking to have stopped responding to me even though they’ve read my latest messages. Being ghosted is the only thing missing to complete my bad luck in love. Obviously, I’m talking about Liam and not someone with blue eyes. I can’t believe he cheated on me. It’s outrageous.

“It’s just you and me,” I murmur into the air, staring at the screen with the Friends series ready to be watched for the tenth time.

It doesn’t comfort me like it used to, and seeing a romantic scene between two characters makes my eyes water. The pollen is terrible this summer.

I exhale the smoke again, parting my lips slightly, wishing I could rip my ears off so I wouldn’t have to listen to the voices of others anymore. The gathering on the garden terrace just ended, and some people still don’t get the damn hint I want them out of my house.

“What’s wrong with you? Your brow is more furrowed than usual,” Denis approaches me with a curious look.

In one hand, he holds the chains around the neck of the man I keep in my office most of the time. Dragging him across the lawn on all fours, and in the other hand, he has a glass of whiskey with a couple of ice cubes inside.

I shake my head, stubbing out my cigarette in an ashtray. The man’s expression changes to a happier one when he sees me. A second later he’s hugging my leg to the point of almost bruising me.

“Hey. Be still, Leki,” Denis commands as he pulls the chain backwards to move him away from me.

The man lets out a low, animalistic howl. The others, accustomed to his presence at these frequent meetings held in my house, watch him with curiosity. I can always refuse them entry and choose another location, but to be honest, I don’t feel like moving anywhere other than her house.

“Leki,” I repeat, raising an eyebrow. Denis nods with a grin on his face.

“A short for Alekei. The poor man had no name, and I thought of giving him that one. Since he likes you so much… Don’t you like it?” His smile widens as he speaks, expressing feigned confusion at the end.

“Why don’t you just name him after yourself?” I ask through gritted teeth.

He opens his mouth, letting out a gasp, and puts a hand to his chest, as if I had hurled a great insult at him.

“Because he doesn’t have that privilege. In fact, you should be thankful that I let you put my majestic name on your lips.”

I turn around, wanting to get away to another part of the garden where the voices will be quieter. Denis chases me.

“Hey, where are you going? I’m talking to you.”

“Far away. I don’t want to give you the privilege of putting my majestic fist in your face,” his lips stretch into a brief smile as he ties the man to a tree near us.

“What’s going on?” he asks.