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27
EMILIA
Isit up in bed, the morning sun gleaming on my face, and look next to me. No Nico. The bed linens don’t look slept in, and as I reach out and touch the pillow, it is cold. He didn’t sleep here last night. My heart skips a beat as I think about where he might be.
We have been together every night since I came here, and while I know this isn’t his apartment, I didn’t think he would just leave me here on my own. I rub my face as I try to let go of the disappointment. We haven’t talked about what this is. If it’s casual and purely for fun or something else. I usually don’t get attached, no matter how close I get to people. I keep a bit of myself reserved, just for me, my way of staying secure and safe from any potential hurt that may come.
With all my previous boyfriends, it is what broke our connections, because I would never give them my full self. But I broke that rule with Nico, and I didn’t even know I was doing it until this moment.
Now I realize he isn’t here, and I have no idea where he is, and my heart feels heavy. I feel sick in my stomach as my mind wanders with made-up scenarios. He could be with someone else. Perhaps he has many women, and I am merely a notch on his bedpost. We have known each other for such a short time, and why I feel this deep connection to him, I have no idea, but that is not to say he feels the same. The sex is great, the hottest I have ever had, but maybe it isn’t the same for him.
Whatever we are doing, it is unbalanced. He is in total control, bringing me here, locking me up in the compound for my safety, yet not giving me any way of moving around or leaving of my own accord. I don’t like it. I have been independent my entire life. I don’t need looking after; I have been doing fine on my own.
I slide out of the bed, my feet hitting the floor, and decide to take a quick shower to wake up properly. Hopefully that’ll pull me out of this mental mind battle and bring back the strong, confident woman I know I am. I was out cold last night, slept solidly, and now feel almost back to normal, although I am still sore in places I haven’t been for a while.
After a quick shower and fresh clothes, I walk downstairs into the living space and look at the few boxes we have remaining. I stand listening; it is quiet, the quietest it has been in the entire time I have been here. You could hear a pin drop.
I stare at my accomplishment, not believing I have worked through all these boxes. It has been nearly two months since Nico walked into my office, and even though I feel a sense of pride at my work ethic, I feel disappointed we haven’t found anything. The case of my father is still unresolved. With nothing else left to do, I grab the first box and pull it to the middle of the room, taking my usual spot on the carpet and opening it up.
This box is really full, and as soon as I pull out a few papers, I already know there is a treasure trove of personal items in here. I steel my nerves, ready for what I might find. I feel fragile today for some reason.
I pull out a stack of photos. Many of my brother Daniel from when he was young to some of him and Catherine when they graduated from med school, both looking so innocent and starry-eyed. I wonder briefly if I should reach out to her, maybe get to know her and my niece Ivy better. We spent a little time together years ago, but without knowing exactly what happened between her and my brother, I am not sure she would want to see me.
That thought makes me nauseous. I chose to move away for college and then drown myself in my career, so much so, I buried my head in the sand, not wanting to know all the things my family did.
But I should have done more. Maybe I should have fought harder to find out where my mother was and what happened to her. I never asked for police reports about the accident or anything. Am I a bad human being for running away from it and not helping? What did my brother do to Catherine and his daughter Ivy? Given he learned from my father, and knowing how my father treated me, I can only assume Ivy was a mere annoyance to him too. That is a hard thing to shake, even after all of these years. I still feel like no one will want me. Up until I met Nico, at least.
There is another photo of my father and his cat, then a few more of what look like business events of some kind from decades ago. All of them flamboyant, opulent, and over the top. It is funny because growing up with him, in the same house, I knew he had money, but I was never privy to it. I had a good education, but I was never spoiled. I stayed out of his way.
I put the photos to one side, my head fuzzy, needing coffee. I hope Nico returns soon because I have no idea how to work the snazzy coffee machine he has.
I pick up a stack of papers next, invoices from a company called Dragonfly Industries based in France. This is interesting. Money, large sums of it on invoices for everything from wine, to foie gras, to parfum. I have no idea what my father would have done with any of this type of stock. He probably likes foie gras, and from what I remember, drank wine, but by the looks of these invoices, he would have to consume a shipping container of it every month. It is excessive.
Grabbing my cell, I search Dragonfly Industries, and images come up showing the insect. I am about to ignore them to keep looking, but one image catches my eye. It is small, red, the wings lines like veins. It would be pretty if it wasn’t so… morbid looking.
I stare at it, scorching it into my brain before it hits me. It is the same as the tattoo on the man I saw who was following me. I quickly grab the invoices again, and I begin to wonder if France is the international spot my father has got his millions from. Perhaps he sold this product, put a hefty markup on it, and gouged the market, making millions in the process. It sounds too easy and simple, but it is a possibility.
I click back to my search and scour the internet for the same image, seeing if I can find anything, but nothing comes up. Staring at the ceiling, I will my brain to work faster, wondering how they are all connected, because they have to be.
But why is Dragonfly man following me? What do I have to do with it all?
I need to go to my office. I need time to think. Being stuck here in a space that is not my own is not helping.
“Good morning, how did you sleep?” Nico asks, standing in the door, and I jump a little, having had no idea he was there.
“Hi,” I say with a small smile, glad to see him, before I school it and mentally scold myself for being too eager. “I slept fine, you?”
“Fine. I slept in my apartment last night,” he says, watching me. I feel my brow furrowing in question, before I shake it off. “What’s going on? You’re jumpy, fidgety. Did something happen?” I need to learn to hide my feelings better. It is 101 at law school, and my training is all out of the window in front of this man.
I let out the breath I am holding, feeling delicate.It is just sex, Emi, I say to myself over and over. Great sex. Lots of sex, but it’s no need to go developing any serious feelings. The pull I have been feeling is obviously hormonal. No one can fall for a guy so soon, can they?
“Nothing. Just tired,” I say, trying to relax my face and seem genuine.
“I’ll go make us some coffee,” he says before turning and walking to the kitchen. I sigh. I need girlfriends, I need to vent.
I start to pack up the contents of the box, knowing I should quickly look through the last one before I see if I can leave. Again, my head is buried, and I am packing up the final box when Nico returns.
“Here.” He gives me a coffee, and after a small sip, I can feel my world balancing out just a little bit more.
