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I know everything about him, except for the stuff that really matters. I know that he lived in Monaco for a time, and then on the west coast of Colombia for a couple of years. He only moved to New York recently and since then he’s been cutting a swathe of red through the city, destroying a Bratva cell on my father’s orders.
I watch as he unfurls from the car, rising higher and higher until he’s towering over the roof of the black Ferrari. It’s difficult to make out his face as he saunters up the steps, but I can tell by his trailing shadow that he’s changed in other ways too.
He’s broader, taller… More imperious.
The valet steps forward to take his car keys, and he tosses them in his direction with a deft flick of his wrist, and then he pauses, head snapping toward my window, as if he can sense someone’s watching him.
“Quick! Turn off the lights!” I hiss at Thalia who’s reappeared to steal the rest of my make-up.
“What?”
“Just do it!”
The room plunges into darkness, and he stays motionless, staring up at my silhouette with the same intensity that I’m staring down at his.
“You let me down, Edier,” I whisper, placing my hand on the glass. “I needed you and you weren’t around.”
His shadow lingers. It’s almost as if he understands—as if he acknowledges and accepts my accusation—and then he’s sweeping into the open doors of the mansion below.
“You can switch them on again,” I mutter to Thalia, and light comes flooding back into the room.
“What was all that about?”
“Danielle joked that my meds could make me see in the dark. I was just testing out her theory.”
“And?”She narrows her eyes at me, knowing I’m talking rubbish.
“AndI need to speak toPapá,” I say, changing the subject. “Do you know where he is?”
“Where he always is, I suspect. Holding court in a luxurious study or library somewhere, declaring wars, and chopping off heads.”
“You’re wicked.” I stop to kiss her cheek on my way out.
“One of us needs to be, otherwise Isabella gets all the glory. Speaking of which, is she coming later?”
I shake my head. “She and he-who-shall-not-be-named are back in Russia,” I say, referring to our much older half-sister and her partner—a man our father hates and loves in equal measure. We’ve stopped mentioning him by name now because a wry smirk one day, can so often cause a raging tempest the next.
“Probably for the best. No one wants a decapitated head with their birthday cake.”
“Sounds delightful.”
Once in the hallway, I check my reflection in the mirror. I’ve chosen to wear gold tonight, and the silky material is molding to my body like water, with sleeves that fall below the creases in my elbows, a hemline that dusts my newly painted toes, and a scooped back that’s low enough to raise a few eyebrows, namelyPapá’s. My black hair is pinned up high, with tendrils snaking down around my face, and my make-up is my favorite combination of light foundation and a smoky-dark eyeshadow.
I don’t have many occasions to dress up, but each one is a gift, and I try to make it as memorable as I can. It just so happens that I’m doing great with my new meds. I’m feeling lighter, stronger… Maybe even brave enough to ask Edier if the reason he ignores me comes from a place of hate, indifference, or worse,pity.
Please don’t let it be pity.
My smile falters as the sour taste of that word floods my mouth.
I can take any other reason, but that.
5
EDIER
Fuck.I don’t want to be here.
I’m not wearing Armani, I’m wearing bitter reluctance, and it’s woven into every thread. It’s weighing me down like concrete and constricting my chest, and now it’s shoving me up the steps and into a smart white lobby, when all I want to do is sit in a dark room, nursing a large whiskey, until the thought of all the red on my hands blurs into a messy oblivion again.
