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I underestimated Claudio.
He has gotten better with his dubiousness during my absence. It will be difficult to break him and have him come out clean about what he did before I kill him. I need him to because that is the only way I can get the satisfaction that I need, having him confess and take off his mask before I end his life.
But he has gotten so good, I would need to keep goading him till he stretches to the point of snapping.
I pick up my blunt on the ashtray and light it up with the electronic lighter on the desk, then paddle out of the study to my room, that's on the last floor. There's an elevator at the back that can take me directly to my floor without stops, but I decide to take the stairs.
I walk into the ensuite arena. It's the same dark brown as the kitchen.
Years ago cooking was a hobby, a family thing, and because I love dark brown, it was the chosen for the kitchen and my room, which is where I spent most of my time.
I take off my wet sweatpants and go to sit on the bed naked, smoking and numbing myself in every way possible. Things are about to change in this house. Claudio is now onto me, which means I have to move quickly.
It's only a matter of time before he finds a way to set me up, making everybody believe I died of natural causes.
I heard him talk about his killing techniques in the past, back before I ever knew he would be using them to take everything away from me. There was a time when he was a favorite uncle to be around and listening to him felt like listening to a wise man.
But now he just sounds like a nagging sad, old hysterical fucker. The kind of jerk that’s always looking for people to fuck with.
I puff, making circles with the smoke.
He will slip. I will make sure of it.
Chapter Nine
ROSE
Isniff and unfurl myself.
I don't know how long I've been curled up on the floor, crying to calm myself, but I know it's has been long enough to get me in trouble and make my father snarkier than he usually is if I don't show up for the meeting as asked.
I pat my cheeks and drag myself up from the floor. Somehow I had balled up on the floor, and now there's a teeny pool of my tears there.
I stand too quickly, and the movement of getting up ruffles me up a bit, making me close my eyes for a quick second to find my balance. Phosphenes to dance in front of my vision and my legs wobble.
I know I brought this on myself. All fingers point to me as the one who ruined her life and for what? I get it. The hostility from people who may never want to have anything to do with me forfear I'll stain their facade of purity, the business partners that were once by my father’s side because of Romano’s family that are now cutting him off, the quick heights to power that we were well on our way to and were now dropped from. I get it. It's all on me.
But why isn't anyone stopping to think for a second that I might be going through something? An emotional crisis? A mental crisis even? Why does it feel like I'm completely alone in the dark tunnel?
I exhale and hug my arms around my slender body again. I feel lost.
I drag myself to the bathroom, about to put one foot in, but instead, I turn towards the drawer. I feel confused, weak and hungry. Thirsty and light-headed.
I open the drawer to check for something to wear from the change of clothes Evelyn brought for me yesterday. Another sign pointing to the fact I won't be leaving anytime soon.
A yellow dress?
I scoff.
You've got to be kidding.
I pick it up, grinding my teeth.
She got me a wrap, sunflower print dress? What is this? What… dear me, I start to rummage through her choice of clothes for me, which reflects her style but in a more sophisticated version. Still, what is this? Flower prints everywhere, bright colors. Hideous maxi dresses, almost like she wants me to be wrapped up and hidden behind these fabrics.
I spread a burnt orange dress out, holding the sleeves between my thumb and index finger a little above my head, like a doctor studying a scan result.
Butterfly sleeves?
