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Magda’s high-pitched voice and fast-slapping heels on the marble floor in the foyer pulls me from my troubles. An itch works its way down my shoulder blades.
“That’s it! I’ve had it.”
I pull the door open to see Magda charge down the hallway with Oscar. She’s got him by the skin of his neck.
“What’s going on?” I barely hide the irritation in my voice.
She doesn’t stop in her stride, but calls over her shoulder, “He peed on my Louis Vuitton sofa. Quincy! Get your ass over here.”
Quincy rounds the corner, a question on his face.
“Here.” Magda pushes the clawing cat into his arms. “Take him to the vet and have him euthanized.”
I’m about to tell my mother she’s overreacting when Valentina flies from the lounge, a cloth and spray bottle in her hands.
“Oh, no, please, Mrs. Louw, you don’t have to do that. It’s not his fault. It may be a urinary infection. I’m sure antibiotics will fix the problem in no time.”
Magda turns on Valentina. “What makes you the goddamn expert?”
“She’s got a point,” Quincy says.
The fact that he puts himself between Valentina and my mother isn’t lost on me. I don’t like it. Not one fucking bit.
“I’m heading out to the vet with Bruno, anyway,” Quincy continues. “I can take Oscar.”
“I’m not spending another cent on this fur pollution. He’s just signed his death warrant.”
That figures. My mother never harbored any love for my late grandmother’s overweight cat. If it was up to her, she would’ve abandoned him at my grandmother’s house after the funeral, but Carly insisted we bring him here.
“I’ll take him,” Valentina says quickly. “I mean to the vet. You don’t have to pay anything, I promise.”
I lean in the doorframe, enjoying Magda’s irritation. “It was Grandma’s cat, after all,” I drawl.
My mother shoots me a dirty look. “Fine,” she says to Valentina. “If you’ve got money to waste, do as you please, but if he pees in the house one more time, he’s dead.”
“I can take him on Sunday when it’s my day off.”
“Today or never,” Magda says, marching to her study and slamming the door.
Valentina looks at me. There’s a plea on her face. I haven’t missed how Oscar follows her around or that he sleeps in her bed. She’s fond of the shedding fluff ball.
“You can take an hour this afternoon,” I say.
Her face lights up, and a smile transforms her features into something angelic, something too good for me. I take it anyway, enjoying the knowledge that I put that expression on her face, giving her something more than physical pleasure.
“I’ll drive you,” Quincy says.
Immediately, my good mood evaporates. Dark, suffocating jealousy smothers my reason. My bodyguard may mean the gesture in the most platonic way possible, but I want to break every single one of his ribs. The only thing that prevents me from kicking the life out of him is that Valentina doesn’t see the way his eyes soften as he drags them over her, because she’s looking at me. She’s looking at me for permission. The submissive act somewhat calms me. I don’t manage more than a nod.
“Thank you,” she says, her gaze wary, as if she’s reading the change in my temper.
I’ll be watching Quincy from now on.
* * *
Valentina
The vet bill eats a hole into my allowance, money I was going to use for my studies, but the tests are done, and Oscar has medicine. It’s a urinary infection as I thought. The vet assures me he’ll be back to normal in a couple of days. It was my plan to take him to Kris on the weekend. She would’ve treated him for free, but I couldn’t risk his life, and I don’t doubt for a second Magda would’ve had him put down. To play it safe, I lock him in my room with his litter tray and food, waiting for the frequent urination to stop.
When I get to my room that night, there’s a bundle of colorful silk tied with a ribbon on my bed, and a note tucked underneath. Curious, I pick up the piece of paper. The handwriting is neat and square.
Shave your pussy.
Gabriel is the most warped man I know. Flinging the note aside, I pull the ribbon off to reveal seven nightgowns in red, navy, white, pink, baby blue, black, and cherry plum, all with lace and ribbon trimmings. Did he get me new nightgowns because he destroyed mine, or are the sinfully sexy sleepwear something that turns him on?
I should be studying, but I can’t stop thinking about the note. There will be repercussions if I disobey. In the shower, I trim and shave my pubic hair. It’s a surprisingly lengthy task. After moisturizing my body, I pull on the navy nightgown, which is the least revealing, and sit down on the bed to wait.
