AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’ll deal with this my way. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll involve your brothers.”
He chuckles and grips my shoulder. “There’s no question about it. You’re undoubtably my son.” His expression sobers. “Don’t underestimate Edwards. That will be a mistake.”
“Don’t worry.” I open the door and get out. “I have no intention of making mistakes.”
If Edwards thinks he’s seen the worse of what and who we are, he’s in for an unpleasant surprise. He unleashed the devil in me.
Soon enough, he’ll face that monster.
CHAPTER
FOUR
Sabella
Mattie’s voice pulls me from my revery. “Bella! What are you doing? Why aren’t you in the shower? Mom is having a nervous breakdown. And what’s in that box you’re carrying?” She shudders. “I swear I just heard something scratching inside.”
Mechanically, I look at my sister, but my heart stayed behind on the side of the house next to the trashcans. I have a frightful, terrifying feeling that’s where it’s bound to stay forever.
She frowns. “What’s with that look on your face?”
I try to school my features. “What look?”
“That goofy look.”
“Nothing.”
Narrowing her eyes, she darts to the backdoor and looks around the doorframe. When she pulls back into the scullery, her lips are pursed and her forehead pleated, making her resemble Mom more than ever.
“Come,” she says, taking my arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She pulls up her nose. “At least as best as we can.”
For once, I don’t argue. I couldn’t be bothered about the outfit my mom chose for the party, but now I’m glad the dress makes me look older. It’s between burgundy and mauve, like my mom’s and Mattie’s, but two shades lighter. Delicate lace overlays a silk slip and ties with a sash around my waist. With the heels, I’ll be as tall as Mattie.
I follow my sister to my room where I build a bed for Pirate with my softest blanket while she turns the water in the shower on to run warm. Fishing my phone from my pocket, I dial the twenty-four-hour emergency veterinary clinic in George and, after describing my dilemma, order a delivery. George is a big town but still small enough for everyone to know everyone. The receptionist doesn’t argue when I tell her who I am and that my dad will settle the bill.
Reassured that milk for Pirate will arrive in twenty minutes, I give him a little water and get ready as fast as I can. My eagerness has nothing to do with the tantrum my mom is going to throw and everything with the guy who gave me the best birthday gift in the world. I want him to see me in my new dress with my hair and make-up done properly. For the first time in my life, I want to look feminine and desirable.
Doris knocks on the door with Pirate’s bottle and milk while Mattie is curling my hair. My sister utters a curse when I abandon my post in front of the mirror to mix the milk and give Pirate the bottle. He kneads my wrist with his paws as he greedily gulps down the milk until not a drop is left. The fact that his tummy is full reminds me that he’ll need a litter tray, but when I ask Mattie to call the clinic, she says a little sand from the garden in a shoebox will have to suffice because she has better things to do, such as finishing my hair.
By the time Pirate dozes off curled up on the blanket, Mattie has finished my make-up. I study my reflection in the mirror with a critical eye. My hair doesn’t have Mattie’s auburn tint, but the dark tresses are thick and glossy. The many hours I spent outdoors have darkened my skin. A few white sunspots mark my arms and legs, but my cheeks have a healthy glow, and the color of the dress shows off my tan.
Mattie rolls her eyes when I wipe off the red lipstick and replace it with a dab of gloss. It makes my lips look fuller.
“Ready?” she asks with a note of irritation. “I left Jared alone with the vultures.”
Dabbing away the excess gloss with a tissue, I smile at her in the reflection of the mirror. “I’m sure he’ll survive for an hour.”
I check on Pirate one last time before dashing after Mattie down the stairs.
It’s dark already. The garden is lit with fairy lights that are draped around the trees and lanterns that are burning on the tables. Going on tiptoes on the terrace, I scan the crowd.
“He left,” Mattie says in a dry tone.
I feign ignorance. “Who?”
“Angelo.”
So, that’s his name. It’s fitting.
“Angelo who?” I ask, enjoying the sound of his name on my tongue.
“Russo.”
“Where’s he staying?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant. “At the guesthouse or at a hotel?”
Her manner is curt. “He went home.”
