Page 62 of Painted Truths

"And what of Alexander?"

"He went to Iris’ for the night. He'll be back tomorrow."

Giving her my back, I walk as quickly and as evenly as I can toward the sanctuary of my room, but she's faster. Upon reaching the foot of the stairs, she's caught up to me.

"Don't you have something you wish to say to me, Enrico?"

Narrowing my eyes, I shake my head once.

"No."

She pops a brow, tilting her head questioningly.

"Last chance…"

Shaking my head sharply, I shrug her off to move past her, and that’s when I see it. I realise I’ve walked straight into her carefully laid trap as her face transforms into a sinister grin, making my stomach roil with nausea.

"I thought you might say that. Here!"

Instead of the slap or punch I expected, she thrusts her closed fist forward, only opening it to display her palm once my full attention is focused on it.

"Take your punishment, then."

Her words are plain, but her tone is full to bursting with sick, twisted delight. Something I've come to learn she relishes.

Another's pain.

Their suffering.

And that's exactly what shoots through me in this moment—years of repressed pain and suffering.

My heart stutters in my chest cavity as I take in the annihilated silver locket I'd been left by Mum. There are deep gouges along the outside, and the hinges have been snapped off. The picture inside has been burnt to black, the image underneath wholly unrecognisable.

And fuck her if she thinks I'll give her what she wants.

The satisfaction of knowing she's hurt me.

Shrugging nonchalantly, I force my feet to propel my body up the stairs, vowing that someday that bitch will get her comeuppance.

I should have known that wouldn't be the end of it.

After a fitful night's sleep, I'd come downstairs the next day to find Iris in the kitchen, but no Alex in sight.

"Where's my brother?"

"Mrs DeMarco came and picked him up late last night, Enrico." Her brow furrows in clear confusion.

"She said you were aware of her intentions."

My stomach plummets. Nodding blindly, I walk back the way I'd come, only for Iris’ voice to stop me in my tracks.

"She said to tell you she left a message for you in your father's study."

Without turning to face her, lest she see the horror on my face, I find myself in my dad's office before realising I've even moved.

Dead centre of the mostly empty desk lies a white sheet, my hated name highlighted and underlined at the top.

Enrico,