CHAPTER 12

Dom

Lohan lunges at me, his eyes burning with pure fury. He grabs me around the waist and slams me brutally to the ground, his fist hitting my face with a ferocious blow. I taste blood in my mouth, but the pain only fuels my anger.  I grab him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him close and with a sudden movement, I manage to throw him to one side. I stand over him, my face red with hatred.

“I'll kick your ass, you fuck! What have you done?”, I scream, and start throwing a series of punches at his face, feeling the impact of each blow against his flesh.

Lohan groans, but in an impulse of fury, he manages to shake off one of my blows, grabs my arm and pulls me down, quickly turning around to get on top of me.

“That bitch tried to kill me!”, he screams, his face contorted with rage. A punch finds my ribcage, the air escaping from my lungs.

“It's a lie, you son of a bitch!”, I roar, in a scream of pain.

Not soon enough. With one swift movement, I elbow him in the chest, forcing him to step back for a second. He recoils, but only for a moment. I take advantage of the gap and punch Lohan straight in the nose, the blood spurting out instantly. 

“ I don't know what the fuck you've done, but today you're out of here in a sack!”, I growl, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Pierre, Thierry and Maurice try to pull me off Lohan, but I push them aside and stop them.

“Get the fuck out!”, I shout, my voice echoing down the corridor.

Simon and Louis approach Lohan, trying to help him up, but he pushes them away, his face covered in blood and fury, his eyes glazed over, red and his pupils dilated.

“I'll finish you off, you piece of trash!”, Lohan roars, advancing again.

He grabs me by the shoulders and pushes me against the wall, but I use the force of the impact to propel myself back, head-butting him in the nose, making him cry out in pain. He staggers back, but stands, the hatred still burning in his eyes. He screams, lunging forward again, but this time I'm prepared. I step to the side and land a brutal punch to the side of his head, causing him to stumble and fall to his knees.

Maurice and Pierre hold me again, trying to pull me away.

“Dominique, stop fucking around!”, Maurice shouts, trying to bring me back to reality, but all I want is to see Lohan dead.

Lohan tries to get up, but I knock him down again with a vicious kick to the chest, sending him crashing to the ground. Before I can advance again, Maurice grabs me from behind, locking my arm in a firm grip. He twists my arm back, immobilizing me with a painful grip and pressing me against the wall. I feel the pain radiating through my shoulder, but I fight against it, trying to break free.

“ Dominique, that's enough!”, Maurice growls, gripping the key even tighter, his full weight on me to keep me trapped.

“I say when it's enough! Get the fuck off me!”, I roar, trying to get free, but Maurice won't budge.

Simon and Louis quickly approach Lohan, pulling him away from me, lucky for him.

“You son of a bitch, I'll kill you!”, I scream at Lohan, still struggling against the wrench, sweat dripping down my forehead, my body tense.

I can only think of the state she was in when that piece of garbage touched her. Maurice, without letting go of me, turns to Simon and Louis.

“You two, take this fucker to the hospital!”, he orders, his voice firm, with no room for questioning.

Simon and Louis nod and drag Lohan into the elevator, while Maurice holds me back.

“And you, come with me, now!”, he pulls me along, still holding my arm, and Pierre helps him keep me under control.

“If you don't let me go, you're fucked, Maurice! Get the fuck off me!”, my tone is altered, charged with rage, as I'm pulled out. My words are spat out between clenched teeth, hatred pulsing along with every accelerated beat of my heart

“You're not going to do anything in this state and we'll see what the fuck happened”, Maurice says seriously, releasing me, “After that, we'll sort it out. Do you understand, Dominique?”

I start walking.

“Where are you going?”, he questions.

“To the restricted area.”

I walk out towards the elevator, dripping with blood, bursting and pressing the button for the basement. Maurice, Thierry and Pierre enter with me, I remove my tie, running my hand through my hair in a state of growing fury. No one says anything, everyone is silent. 

When we arrive, the environment is different, with concrete floors and cold, direct lighting. I follow a security corridor, where the walls and doors are heavy and armored. In the restricted area, the door is a metal fortress with access control. I go through authentication, putting in my biometrics and security code. The door opens, revealing the camera and security control room. It is equipped with more than a hundred monitoring screens showing live images and sound from all areas, along with recordings. When they see us enter, the operators look at us and one of the supervisors, tall and red-haired, approaches me apprehensively.

“We had an event in the function room, Mr. Le Blanc.”

“We've come to see. Get out, all of you.”

Without question, the room quickly emptied, leaving just the four of us.

Maurice presses a few buttons, taking the video back to a few hours earlier, since we arrived. Kiki leaves the administration, goes to the roulette hall and stays for a while with Blanca. Then a security guard approaches, saying something. Because of the noise in the hall, we can't hear anything. She gets up and heads for the executive’s access, taking the elevator to the boardroom and stopping on the second floor. She enters, closing the door. Seconds later, Lohan comes out of the emergency stairwell, holding a bottle. He enters the hall and the lights are off, but the camera system is infrared. The sequence of Lohan's speeches and the images are disturbing.

Every time Kiki screams, it's as if a part of me tears away. Every touch against her will is repulsive, giving me the most damned sensations. If before I wanted to kill him, now I want to turn this son of a bitch inside out. My whole body is tense and I feel the bitter taste of anger mixing with growing hatred. I should have been there for her, I should have stopped it. I've failed again. Guilt eats away at me.

“I'm discredited. Disgusting, son of a bitch”, Thierry speaks, with disgust in his voice.

“How did he have the nerve to do that to Kiki, bro?”, Pierre says, angrily, “He attacked her because of Dom? What happened? What happened? Aren't you going to say anything?”, Pierre looks at Maurice.

“He's gone mad”, Maurice replies, taking his cell phone out of his pocket and dialing, “Simon, it's me. Get this son of a bitch back here, now!”, Maurice hangs up, turning his attention to me, “I'll go to hell with you to sort this out. He's fucked in our hands.”

“I'm going to see Kiki”, that's all I say before I leave.

I return to the boardroom stunned. I can't believe what's happened, what he's done, right here, in the place I thought was the safest. In the corridor, I see Vlad standing in the doorway of my office. He looks worried. I approach him, trying to maintain a firm posture, although at the moment it's difficult to maintain any semblance of steadfastness.

“Sir, what happened?”, he asks, attentively.

“He abused her, in here, right under my nose…”, I answer, feeling the anger boil up inside me, “Why aren't you with Kiki?”

Vlad sighs and an expression of hatred crosses his face.

“She asked to be left alone, but I'm worried. I've never seen her like this, sir. Now, knowing what happened, I understand better. But I'm still very worried, because she's very badly hurt and refuses to see a doctor.”

I nod in agreement, but my tone is bitter.

“Would you go to a doctor after what happened?”, I ask, rhetorically.

Vlad remains silent, understanding what I mean.

“Increase security”, I order, firmly, “Even in here. I failed in thinking that she would be protected here.”

Vlad nods, already aware of the seriousness of the situation and the need to reinforce security. I could walk out of that door now and finish Lohan off, but my mind wouldn't find peace because it needs me. For now, that's all that matters. 

I open the door to my living room and walk in. My eyes scan the room until they find Kiki sitting in the corner, hunched over and hugging her knees. Her hazel eyes look lost, unfocused, and her cheekbones are as red as her nose. Her vest is torn and her white top is stained with blood from her head wound. She's still holding the gun, and the scene in front of me is like a punch in the gut. I close the door behind me, and Kiki finally looks at me.

“Dom…”, she mumbles in a weak voice.

She gets up and takes a step towards me, but before she can go any further, her legs give way and she collapses to the ground, fainted. I run to her body, take her carefully in my arms and lift her up. Without wasting any time, I carry her out of the room.

“Vlad, let's go to the hospital!”, I order, my voice as firm as I can keep it.

She underwent a series of tests and the trauma to her head wasn't serious, but she did need four stitches. The test results are out and physically everything is fine. I haven't left her side and I don't intend to. I need to keep a close eye on the medication being administered. I've already said we won't be spending the night here, so may they get to work and sort everything out as soon as possible. Not for me, but for her. I don't know how Kiki will react when she wakes up in hospital, but I don't want her to be any more nervous. Even anticipating all her reactions, I know that none of them will be good. But it was necessary.

I watch her sleep, her peaceful expression easing a little of the turmoil I feel. I catch myself thinking and now it all makes sense. Her behavior at the beginning of the trip, not answering his calls, not wanting to travel. I thought something might have happened, maybe a fight, but not that. Never that. How did he find the courage? Everything he said to her... why didn't she tell me before? Was she worried about destroying a friendship? That I wouldn't believe her? Shit, it only took one look to know he'd done something, and if those bastards hadn't gotten involved, I'd have killed him right there. I hear a knock on the door and see Vlad sticking his head in.

“Sir, can Maurice come in?”, he asks.

I confirm with a brief nod. The door opens wider and Maurice enters, carrying two cups of coffee and hands me one. He looks at Kiki, who is asleep, then at me.

“How is she?”, he asks.

“Better”, I reply, dryly.

“That's nice…”, he murmurs.

“Where is that son of a bitch?”, I ask, harshly, almost in a whisper.

Maurice stares at me, taking a sip of his coffee.

“He misled Simon and Louis. But don't worry, we'll find him. There are people after him, his face is marked. You have nothing to worry about.”

Hearing that, all the calm I was trying to maintain for her went to shit.

“You have the nerve to come here with a cup of coffee to tell me that? It was your fault for getting me off him, you son of a bitch! Because you doubted her again. Fuck you!”

“Dominique, how the fuck should I know? Did you even stop to ask?”, Maurice tries to intervene.

“Seeing her condition, did you need confirmation?”, I stare at him, incredulous.

“For you, Dominique. For the rest of us, nobody understood a damn thing. We just saw you like animals fighting each other. Whether it was because of her or not, we didn't know at the time”, Maurice says, loudly.

“Where's Blanca?”, Kiki's voice is weak, but there is a firmness to it.

I turn around immediately when I hear it, and find Kiki trying to sit up, her face still haggard and bruised. Her every movement seems to exude tiredness, and I put the glass on the table.

“Kiki…”, I approach, holding her arm lightly, but she pulls away, rejecting my touch. I'm taken aback. Her hazel eyes, normally so lively, are now full of apprehension

“I want Blanca here”, she says, her voice firm.

A wave of something indescribable passes through me – frustration, perhaps. I agree, still holding his gaze with mine.

“Maurice, go and get Blanca”, I order, without taking my eyes off Kiki, while I hear the door open and close as he walks past.

“You too”, she says, suddenly, her voice cold.

“What? I'm not going out. I'm not going anywhere, damn it”, I reply, shocked at the idea of leaving.

“I don't want you to stay, Dominique”, her voice is firm.

The door opens at once, interrupting.

“Kiki!”, Blanca enters quickly, running to the bed.

Kiki can't take her eyes off me, and it's clear that she's not going to change her mind. I let out a heavy sigh, feeling a rising anger, but I know she needs space. If it was under any other circumstances, it wouldn't be like this. Not by a long shot. I give Kiki one last look before I begrudgingly leave the room. As I walk through the door, I close it behind me with a firm movement. An irrational rage consumes me, and without thinking, I unload with a punch straight into the wall in front of me.

“Fuck!”

I walk down the hospital corridor into the waiting room, where all the guys are sitting, listening to what Maurice is saying. He talks about how it's a mistake for him to be the last to know about things and how he can act if events like this happen behind his back.

“Did anyone know that Lohan had his sights set on Kiara? Did you see anything? Apart from what happened today?”, he asks, casting a hard look at the group.

Louis raises his hand.

“The Maldives, it was a bit suspicious, wasn't it?”

“I thought he wanted to reciprocate in the brotherhood, for the years of friendship, more than three decades together”, Simon comments, his expression confused.

“It was clear that he wanted something with her, wasn't it? I just didn't think it would be on that level”, Pierre adds, frowning, “For a while now, Lohan had been doing a lot of ‘business’, snorting some powders, drinking too much”, he continued, his voice tense, “He was talking about a woman, it sounded a bit obsessive, but I didn't know it was Kiki. Who would have thought it? He never gave a name.”

Maurice runs his hands through his hair, visibly frustrated.

“You see why I need to know things, you cunts? Look at the shit.”

I sit in a chair, throwing my head back, trying to process everything I've heard.

“So, how is she?”, Everyone asks at the same time, except Maurice, who remains silent, watching.

I shrug as I raise my head and look at them, exhaustion weighing me down.

“He's awake…”

“Ahem”, Pierre coughs, catching my eye, “We were talking here, brother. Kiki is like a little sister to us. Some of us have more affinity, others, like Maurice, want to put her away.”, he points at Maurice, who rolls his eyes, “But nobody here wants to hurt her. And what Lohan did is unacceptable. We won't forgive it. Whatever you decide to do, we'll do it too. Without a second thought.”

I look at him and a feeling of frustration hits me.

“It's the bare minimum”, I reply shortly, knowing that they understand the gravity of the situation and what it means for all of us.

Blanca appears in the doorway, glances around the room and stops at me, beckoning me to follow. Reluctantly, I get up and follow her down the corridor.

“What's wrong?”, I ask, already impatient.

Blanca stares at me, visibly tense.

“She wants to leave.”

“It's okay, she's been discharged”, I answer, hoping for something more.

Blanca sighs hesitantly.

“Dom, she wants some time alone…”

“What?”, my tone is incredulous, the anger bursting out again, “No way. That's not even an option! Look at everything that's happened this week! That son of a bitch is still out there. She's not going anywhere, no fucking way! Fuck off!”

Blanca stands in front of me, spreading her arms to block me.

“Blanca…”, I warn, in a threatening voice.

“Calm down, Dom. It doesn't have to be like this”, she says, trying to find the right words, “I think it will do her good to get away, to distance herself from all this for a while.”

“Oh, you think so? Well, I don't think so and fuck your opinion. Kiara won't leave my side.”

“Dominique, it's just for a few days. Until the dust settles”, Blanca tries to argue through her teeth.

Maurice approaches us with a serious look on his face.

“What the fuck is happening now?”

“Dominique doesn't want to let Kiki leave for a few days. It's not really a vacation, but a mental relief after everything that's happened”, Blanca explains, quickly.

I turn away from her and head down the corridor, entering the room abruptly and closing the door behind me. I see Kiki zipping up her jeans, and her eyes meet mine, wide with surprise.

“You’re not going!”, I say.

“Dom…”, she tries to speak.

“You said you trusted me, didn't you?”, I interrupted her.

She nods in agreement.

“I trust you.”

“No, you don't. You told me you just didn't want to go away, but he'd already done something and you didn't fucking tell me!”

“I don't want to deal with it now”, she replies, trying to remain calm.

“So your solution is to avoid me?”

“It wouldn't be any different from what you do, would it? You can deal with your problems in a twisted way and I can't? Do I have to answer to everyone? If you want that so badly, Dominique, you'll demand satisfaction from Vlad, who diverted my aim when I was about to shoot Lohan. Demand it from the security guards who weren't on my tail like they always are when I'm on the street. Charge yourself for pushing me away and complaining when I'm making the best decision for myself. I don't want to deal with responsibility or guilt right now!”

“Listen to yourself, Kiara. Where the fuck is your fault and responsibility for this? Fucking hell!”

Her gaze falters for a moment, and it tears me apart. Seeing her blame herself makes me even angrier, makes me want to hunt Lohan down at any cost.

“Kiki…”

I'm not going to ask her to stay. What the fuck is happening to me? I approach her and slowly try to wrap my arms around her. She pulls back, a defensive reaction she's never had before, at least not with me... she stares at me angrily, her eyes brimming with tears. Then, without saying another word, Kiki leaves the hospital room.

When I get home, night has already set outside. I go straight up to my room, close the door and lock it. I throw my suit on the bed anyway as I make my way to the closet. I open the safe built into the wall and take out a black leather case with square corners and a gold clasp. With a dry snap, the case opens, revealing the cocaine in the compartments. I sit down in the gray armchair, letting my body sink. I pour the powder over the glass, reach into my pocket, open my wallet and take out Maurice's business card to line up the coke in a thin line. That's what I need today. I bend forward, cover one nostril with my thumb and, in one swift movement, inhale deeply. A burning sensation goes through my head, and I close my eyes for a moment, thinking about her. Why didn't she stay here with me? It's the first thought that comes to mind. The second is more intrusive, because I know I failed her, and not for the first time. I throw my body back.

Damn it, Kiki, why are you punishing me?

And when I'm one step away from wondering why she wants to be away from me at a time like this, I'm left in disbelief. I'd know how to act if it were anyone else, but when it comes to her, it can't be solved the conventional way and I wonder why. Oh, fuck it. You know what? I'm going to fuck off. She's not here to wreak havoc on my ideas, she'd rather go to Nice and try to deal with this shit on her own, so let her deal with it. I make another thin line, inhale, feeling the energy light up in a flash.

I leave the room and head for the elevator. I soon reach the living room and walk through the room to the bar, where I start to put all the drinks on the counter. I take a tall glass and mix all the drinks, my movement is concentrated and when I finish, I drink it all in one go, feeling the bitter taste go down my throat. I don't understand how she can like this, and I don't even understand why I'm drinking this shit. I throw the glass at the wall, watching it burst. In a fit of rage, I pick up the bottle, swirl it in the air and throw it away, roaring. I throw them one by one, letting go of the anger that seems to be pumping through my bloodstream. I failed, it's all my fault. Had I shut that son of a bitch up the first time, this wouldn't have happened.

The guy grew up with me, he was one of my friends. We've been through a lot over the years since childhood, and now he does this? Fuck, that's hard to swallow. I hold up a bottle of whisky and throw it against the wall, watching the glass shatter and the liquid slowly drip down. Lohan had his shitty phases, especially with drugs, and, in a way, we were all in it together. I kick the first high stool I see in the room, sending it flying to the side. Lohan's ego has blown out of proportion. Him comparing himself to me and competing, I understand. We've always been like that, trying to be better than each other. But when did this inferiority complex hit so hard? Could it be that the alcohol and drug abuse finally broke his head for good? Could it be that all these symptoms were in my face and I just didn't notice? Now it's too late. I’m turning this son of a bitch to butter. All limits have been crossed. I've never seen that way. I grab the next stool and throw it hard against the bar, hearing the crash as it breaks. A deaf rage takes hold of me, and I go to the large coffee table, lifting it with all my might and throwing it to the floor, shattering the glass and scattering the shards all over the room. And not that it makes any difference now, because what that son of a bitch did was unforgivable. I grab another stool from the bar and, with all my strength, throw it at the TV, which shatters at once, breaking into pieces that fly across the room. Fury rises inside me, pulsing like a second bloodstream.

I make my way to the elevator, my heavy footsteps echoing across the floor, along with my panting, and go up to the fourth floor, where I keep my art collection. The doors open and I walk straight to the wall covered in paintings. I know I'm going to spend all my days looking for where this bastard has gone. I grab a legitimate work and throw it to the floor, listening to the sound of the wood breaking and the canvas tearing. What he did to Kiki... he'll pay. I rip another painting off the wall, throwing it against the marble sculptures, which crackle under the impact. And he's going to pay in the most painful and torturous way. I pick up one of the sculptures and throw it against the window, the glass shattering in a shower of shards. And I'm going to watch him fuck himself...

I practically destroyed the whole house, and, when I got tired, it was already daylight. I went to my games room on the top floor of the house. I'm playing video games, intending to complete the survival game. I didn't go to the casino today because I didn't want to, and I've already told Amélie that I'm not going tomorrow either. They can manage without me. Fuck everyone! I dip the croissant into the pot of hazelnut cream, biting and chewing as I focus on killing everyone in my path. And I pause for a moment to reflect: Why is this game boring? It's all boring and I have no patience for anything.

When the cream runs out, I decide to go downstairs to get some more. I pause the game and leave the arcade. I get into the elevator and press the button for the second floor. When it opens, I find the staff sweeping and cleaning the room, removing all the broken furniture so that the new one can be installed. I head for the kitchen with lazy, dragging steps.

I find Berta, with a confused expression, trying to understand what has happened.

“Why didn't you go to the casino today?”, she questions.

“It's none of your business.”

Berta puts her hand on her waist.

“What happened to the house, Dominique?”, she insists, worried.

“Haven't you heard? A meteor fell here, valued at... It's none of your fucking business!”

“Dominique, where's Kiki?”, she asks again.

Hearing her question, I become even more irritated and ignore her, feeling the emptiness of her absence. I open the cupboards, looking for the hazelnut cream, but I can't find it.

“What the fuck?”, Maurice's voice exclaims and, as I turn over my shoulder, I see him with a shocked expression, “What the fuck have you done, you animal?”

“And for what reason are you interested? Oh, no. Get the fuck out!”, I return my gaze to the housekeeper, “And you, Berta, go and buy some hazelnut cream.”

I reach into my pocket, take out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and light up. I head for the outdoor area, passing through the open door. I go to the pool area, listening to my cell phone ringing insistently. I pick it up, see Amélie's name and throw it into the water, watching it sink. I take a drag on my cigarette and let it out.

“I kept thinking about what Pierre said yesterday. Did you know Lohan had his eye on her?”, Maurice asks, in a direct tone.

“Does it make any difference?”, I ask, not wanting to bring up the subject again.

— Yes, she does. You like her.

Uncontained anger explodes inside me, and I approach Maurice with a glare.

“I'll meet you there…”

Maurice gives me a doubtful look.

“Where?”

“In your mom’s house! Fuck you, my brother!”

I walk out with firm steps, my feet hitting the floor heavily, each movement carrying the anger I feel. As I make my way back to the kitchen, my mind is racing. As I pass the door, I don't even think twice and slam it shut with all my might, and the sound of shattering invades the room. The glass shatters, scattering shards across the floor.

“Buy another one, this one was already shit!”, I say, in pure hatred.

“Holy shit!”

Berta screams, frightened. Her voice is a mixture of shock and fear, her eyes wide as she stares at the damage I've just done.

I'm slumped on the sofa in the games room, with one leg resting on the backrest and the other stretched out on the floor, while my hands fiddle with the buttons on the video game controller. I keep my gaze focused, but I can't say the same for my head, which seems to be anywhere but here, more precisely in Nice. What is she eating? How is she eating? Has she eaten? I don't even understand why I'm worrying so much, what the hell. And when I realize that the thoughts have become intense again, I choose to pause the game, take a generous swig of whisky from the neck of the bottle.

I get up. It's been two days since she went to Nice, and her security has been stepped up. She's really alone, she's even dismissed Blanca. This silence, this distance, is fucking with my head. But there's nothing to be done. I can't cross that line, not now. And I've never been one to wait. But at the same time, I think: should I stay close or definitely stay away? There are times when I'm sure that distancing myself would solve everything. I could pretend that Kiki never existed, I'm very good at not caring about anything, I'm even better at walking over whoever is in front of me so as not to be affected. It was my fault. I thought I'd have no problem dealing with the situation. After all, her amnesia is the least of her problems. But what? I'm such a shit! That's why I chose the life I have. And look, I've lost again, just like in the past. Different situations, but they meet. I throw the bottle towards the door when I hear it unlock and find Maurice coming in with a paper bag. He dodges the shards, casting an incredulous glance around the room and at me.

“I've brought your dinner. You haven't left this room for two days. You need to eat and take a shower! Flour and booze are going to fucking kill you”, Maurice says, stressed.

“Shut up!”

“Listen, you wretch. Everything that happened was out of our control. Nobody imagined that Lohan would do such an atrocity. You can't stay like this”, Maurice opens a sandwich wrapper and hands it to me, while I stare at it in disbelief.

“I don't want it”, I throw myself on the sofa, “You're a good friend, now get out”, I settle between the cushions.

I wake up with a crushing weight on my head, bringing my hand to my forehead and lifting my body onto the sofa. I have no idea what time it is, but I don't care either. I get up, tripping over myself, and walk through the games room. When I get to the bar, I realize that there isn't a drop of booze left in this shithole. I’ll have to go out and buy some.

I walk to the bathroom, taking off my clothes and opening the damper. I step under the shower, letting the cold water run down my body. I feel everything spinning, my head throbs and the still-present intoxication pulls me down into a stupor that only gets worse. I finish the shower and wrap a towel around my waist, staggering a little, still fighting the sensation of floating. Lucidity begins to creep in, but I know it will only lead to more problems.

I grab a car key and a wad of cash that's lying around. I go to the elevator and press the button for the garage, leaning against the elevator wall to avoid falling. Once there, I press the control to unlock a car. A Porsche, I think she is, comes into view. I get into the car and start it, heading towards the first bar I find. The bar is small, a dark and almost empty corner, lit by a few neon lights on the peeling walls. I sit down at the counter and order a drink. I spend the next few hours stuffing my face, sinking into thoughts that I try to avoid at all costs. Between one shot and the next, I feel anaesthetized, the pain numbed for a few moments.

After some time, I can't say how long, I get up and throw the crumpled cake of money on the counter. I stagger out of the bar, my head still spinning. I find the Porsche parked on the sidewalk and start it up, accelerating without thinking. The wind rushes in through the open windows, making my thoughts whirl, bringing back everything that happened.

I arrive at the mansion, leaving the car at the main entrance, parked anyway. I get out of the car and stare at the door, not sure if I want to go in or not. What will I do there? My body sways from side to side as I enter the hall, tripping over my own feet and slamming the door.

“Dom?”, I hear Kiki's voice.

I realize that I've passed all the stages and am now in a full-blown hallucination. I lean on the sideboard, closing my eyes briefly, trying to find some point of balance. I hear footsteps approaching. She enters the hall and when I open my eyes again, I see three of them coming towards me, all with wide-eyed looks on their faces.

“What happened? You look terrible!”, she says, worried.

“Me? There are three of you and none of them look well”, I answer, my voice laced with alcohol.

“Did you get the car in this condition? Are you crazy?”, she exclaims, furious, as she puts her hand around my hip, trying to steady me, “Come on.”

“Where are y’all taking me?”, I ask confused, still seeing multiple versions of her.

“We'll take care of you”, she says, pulling me.

I'm guided to the elevator, which opens, and Kiki presses the button for the second floor. I force my gaze towards her, trying to focus, trying to understand if what I'm seeing is real. She stands on tiptoe, holds my face between her hands and finally, I see only one. She takes a deep breath and I smell her perfume. My body reacts, my heart races and I wrap my hand around her waist, holding my fingers there in a desperate gesture, as if to stop her from leaving. The elevator doors open and I lean on Kiki, who turns toward her room. She opens the door and pulls me inside. Stumbling, with her help, I reach the bed.

“I don't like seeing you like this…”, Kiki whispers, bending down to take off my shoes.

She stands up and I try to take off my shirt, but I'm in the way, as if the fabric is stuck. Kiki pulls the fabric through at once, ripping the shirt off.

“That's it.”

He says, pushing my body back gently, settling my head on the pillow. His fingers sink into my hair and I close my eyes, trying to find some comfort in his touch.

“I missed you…”, her voice is soft, almost a whisper, as she lies down next to me, facing me.

“No more than me, dolly”, I whisper, my voice a little firmer.

She snuggles into my chest and I wrap my arms around her. I feel her warmth against me, the smell of her perfume enveloping me. I'm drunk as fuck, but her presence gives me a strange relief, a sense of peace that I can't find anywhere else. Kiki snuggles closer to me, her head resting on my chest, and I hold her tight, as if she were the only real thing in a world spinning out of control.

I wake up to a string of "cluck-cluck" and feel my head throbbing, my stomach churning. I bring my thumb and forefinger to my forehead, squeezing, while the "cluck-cluck" continues. I feel Kiki's body against mine. I squeeze her tighter and she sleeps peacefully, snoring softly. Suddenly, I feel something jump in my face and I jump on the bed, startled. I'm faced with a furry, white creature with a gray beak and black eyes.

“Holy shit, Kiara!”

“What is it, Dom?”, Kiki wakes up quickly, raising her torso and trying to focus her gaze on me, but she still looks sleepy.

“What's wrong? I'll ask you! What is that unidentified animal?”, I point to the thing on the ground.

Kiki widens her eyes and gets out of bed.

“Have you met her?”, she says, walking over to the animal, picking it up off the ground and bringing it over to me, “This is Bia, she's a Sedosa. Chinese.”

“She's not staying”, I'm getting ahead of myself.

“Dom, she chose me! I was in a reflective moment, and she was from the hotel where I was staying. While I was thinking, she stayed with me the whole time, ‘hatching’ me.”

“For me, it's emergency protein. Bia belongs in the pan.”

Kiki opens her lips, pushing the chicken away from me.

“Stay away from her.”

“It's up to you to keep it away. If it doesn't go on my plate, it goes on my pillow”, I say, before walking out the door, as I hear her footsteps behind me with the chicken.

“Does that mean she can stay?”, Kiki asks, insistent.

I close my eyes briefly. Who goes to fucking Nice and comes back with a Chinese chicken? It doesn't make any sense. I go to the elevator, get in and the two of them get in too. I press the button for the first floor.

“Dom, did you know that her breed is super maternal?”

“Do I need a mother?”

“But she has to!”

“She's super maternal, she could be her own mother. There won't be any chickens, Kiki. Forget it.”

I feel the elevator lock, and the doors open. I get out first and she comes after me with determination. I can tell just by her steady footsteps.

“Dom! It costs nothing, you won't even notice.”

Remembering what I said the same thing to myself at the beginning of all this: she stays on one side, I stay on the other, I wouldn't even see it... look what happened.

“We both know that doesn't work.”

I go into the kitchen and meet Berta, who turns to us and stares at the chicken.

“Is that lunch?”, she points to the bird, “I don't know if I can cook it alive. Ask Vlad.”

“Jesus!”, Kiki exclaims, barely entering the kitchen and already leaving, tossing her hair.

“Did she get attached to lunch?”, Berta asks.

I agree with a minimal nod, not wanting to explain. I pour myself a hot coffee.

“Hey, Kiki!”

“What is it?”, she answers

“Come and have some breakfast.”

“I'm going, I'll put Bia away.”

I go outside, holding the cup, and sit down on the sofa, throwing my head back.

“Sir, good morning”, I hear Vlad approaching.

“Good morning. How was Nice?”, I ask.

The security guard looks at me uncomfortably.

“I don't know if you've met the new member of the house yet, but…”

I interrupted him.

“If you're talking about that silky hair cake I've been meaning to bake…”

“It's her.”

“So you've met Bia.”

“Vlad…”

“Sir, I have a good explanation…”

“I'd love to hear it…”, I say sarcastically.

“I tried to let you know, but I couldn't get in touch, and I figured you were busy. That's why I didn't insist too much, so as not to disturb you.”

I agree with a brief nod.

“But the little pile of fur and beak was a great help to Kiki. She’s done nothing but cry, she was agonized, she didn't want to know anything.”

“And you saw her crying?”

“I heard it, sir. I witnessed it. Kiki is discreet, but on the second day, she went for a walk and we kept a safe distance so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable.”

“And where does the chicken come in?”

“At that very moment, in the midst of all the sadness that was consuming her…”

I take a sip of coffee.

“Hm.”

“Bia appeared.”

“Go ahead, Vlad. You're the one who gave her the chicken smuggled from China, right?”

Vlad squints.

“She was very sad, I couldn't stand it.”

“Holy shit, Vlad! Now I'm the son of a bitch. Fuck, wasn't there a cat?”

“Only chickens…”, the man shrugs his shoulders.

“Fuck, Vlad!”

“Sir, you already have one right here. I even got the same color. You already have a big one, a small one won't make any difference”, Vlad says, referring to Blanca.

“Fuck, I need to…”, I don't hold back a laugh ,”That's the only reason she stays.”

“Anything else, sir?”, he asks.

“I want a cell phone, mine fell in the pool, please.”

Vlad leaves with a nod, and it's not long before Kiki appears in the doorway. Her countenance is calmer, but the look in her eyes still carries a weariness that worries me. I can't deny the relief I feel when I see her back, it's as if everything has fallen into place, and that feeling takes me by surprise. I don't like the way I feel, as if I've lost control over the last few days. As she approaches, my gaze wanders over her body, covered in a short black dress with small white flowers and thin straps. Yesterday I wasn't even in a position to notice flowers, it seemed like a hallucination, but her scent is unmistakable. Kiki sits down next to me on the sofa, looking at me seriously.

“You shouldn't have taken the car like that yesterday, Dominique. Something could have happened…”

“So what? I was just drunk.”

“You could have killed yourself! I know it wasn't the first time, and it won't be the last…”

“I'm glad you know, that's me”, I interrupt.

She brings her hand to my face, caressing, disarming me.

“I just don't want you to get hurt…”

I pull her onto my lap, holding the back of her head tightly while I look deep into Kiki's eyes.

“Why do you feel guilty and responsible for something that will never be your fault?”, I change the subject.

I see her swallow and she seems to hesitate for a moment.

“None of this would have happened if I had been more direct. I accepted gifts, outings, trips... in reality, I was stupid, and that in itself is throwing me off track and it doesn't seem to be a common thing for me. I think I misunderstood... until the day he forcibly kissed me in the casino, before we left for Italy. He asked me to stay, to choose him. I said I didn't want to talk any more, that it was to forget the trip... I punched him in the face! When you asked me what was wrong with me, if it wasn't just because of our fight... I didn't want to tell you. He was your friend, I didn't know how you would react to all this. I just wanted to forget all about it…”

She says, looking into my eyes. Her gaze deepens, the pain is evident, and tears begin to flow as she tries to dry her face, fighting the vulnerability she has never shown. Hearing this, I feel the fury rise, my blood boiling in my veins. Son of a bitch, he's so fucked up... I wouldn't want to be in his shoes.

I see Kiki's breathing go haywire, her chest rising and falling rapidly, as if the air were escaping her. Her eyes widen in panic, trying to grasp the air, but to no avail. Her hands shake, looking for something to hold on to. Despair takes over, her body begins to shrink, as if she wants to disappear inside herself.

“Calm down, dolly”, I whisper, pulling her to me, wrapping her in my arms, trying to bring her some security in this chaos, “I'm here.”

I hold her tight, feeling her uneven breathing against me, every sob she tries to control blows me away.

“I won't rest until I find that bastard, and when I do, he'll pay with his life. And anyone who dares to interfere will suffer the same”, I say, grabbing her face and keeping my gaze on hers, “It's not your fault anything happened. He had no right to touch you uninvited.”

She hugs me and I return the embrace, sliding my fingers down her back, smelling her enveloping scent, slipping my hands into her hair. Her breathing gradually calms down, but frustration mixes with anger inside me. I can't believe all this happened, how it all got out of hand, and I couldn't do anything to stop her being hurt. I feel like shit, with the most disturbed thoughts. She shouldn't be with me, every day I'm more certain that I need to be alone. But I can't, because I need her. And every time I try to push her away, she resists, and fuck, that just makes me want her to stay even more, even though I know I might hurt her. What the fuck is happening to me?

We've had coffee and Kiki is calmer, but I'm still supervising. I couldn't stay away from the casino's responsibilities any longer, so I asked Amélie to send me what needed to be done. I'm in the home-office, checking the reports that never seem to end. I can't remember the last time I was away for so long; three days is a long time. I have a substitute for urgent leave, and, so far, I've never had to use it, but it's worked out well. The manager and Maurice held things together well. However, there are things that only I can do, like finding a decent financial director and negotiating new contracts with the most important suppliers I already have. All this while Kiki is asleep on the sofa in front of me. I pick up my cell phone, which is vibrating with message notifications all from Amélie. Tomorrow will finally be the show of the hysterical Lolla Grace, who has already arrived and is staying at the casino hotel and from what I've just seen on the chat, is making demands of a superpop, as she calls herself. Tomorrow, just to maintain the great relationship I have with the entertainment industry, I'll personally welcome her and, after the show, a brief drink. 

I'm exhausted when I finish. My head is heavy from the hangover I've had all day. Finally, I lean back in my chair. The office door opens and in walks Kiki, who woke up to Blanca calling. It's been two hours. I don't know what they're talking about so much, but the subject never ends. She comes in wearing a dress full of fringes, and holding something in her hand, while her cell phone is between her shoulder and ear, still talking to her friend.

“Tomorrow, I'll come with you, and we'll sort out the clothes. It's just Lolla Grace.”

Kiki pulls the cell phone away from her ear. And I grimace as I imagine that the other woman must be screaming on the other end.

“See you tomorrow. Bye!”, she dismisses.

Kiki looks at me incredulously.

“Is this woman brainwashing people? Everyone's obsessed, crazy about her arrival. That's not healthy!”, she says, coming around the table, and I stare at her legs as she sits down in front of me”, It's time to renew”, she hands me the contraceptive patch.

I take it from her hand, remove the film and place it in my palm, waiting a few seconds, feeling the feminine power invade my balls, or is it just the desire to fuck Kiki, who looks delicious in that hideous little dress? I prefer it when she has nothing on. With my index finger, I ask her to stand up and turn around. She leans over the table and I wet my lips with my tongue, enjoying the view. I'm very eager, excited to slap that hot, round, perky ass, but I hold back. I remove the sticker from my palm, place it on the tip of my finger and, with my hand flat, slide it up her dress. I find a white thong that highlights her white skin, and place the patch on her lower back, sliding the fabric back down, restrained and frustrated. It's like an endurance test, having the best filet mignon in front of you and not being able to bite it.

She looks at me over her shoulder, as if she's expecting something, and I look back, as if I'm asking her what she's asking. And my body screams for it, to fuck her, to mark her, to hit her, to do what I've always done, but I feel something stop me. For the first time, I don't know if I should and making it conscious leaves me with no control. What do you mean, no control? Since when did hurting her become a problem for me? If I'm not going to do it, what am I going to do? That's me, that's always been my game, that's what I do with people. She's just been through hell, and I don't know if I should act like this. If I do, I'll break something inside her, and it shocks me that I care. Why do I care? Fuck, am I getting soft? No fucking way. She fucks my head in a way that no one else does. I stand up at once, running a hand through my hair. Kiki continues to look at me the same way: confused. And I leave the office, slamming the door as I go.

After dinner, my thoughts are still tense. I've been silent most of the time, my head heavy with the pain that won't stop. After a shower, I put on my pajama pants and realize how angry I am with myself for not being able to do anything. The only thing left to do is wait. A lot of people, of all kinds, are after Lohan and so far, there's been no clue as to his whereabouts. It's frustrating. Unbelievable! Tomorrow I'm going to go through his old room and do the same with the house. I have to find something, it's not possible that he's disappeared without a trace. I leave my room and go to Kiki's, knocking on the door.

“Kiki, open up.”

“It's open.”

I push the door handle and go in. She's lying on the bed, her legs on the headboard, holding a book. When she sees me, she turns her face towards me, expecting me to say something. I would, if the curves of her body didn't take my attention away. The white tank top and lacy panties... I take a deep breath in approval, but shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I'm conflicted. I walk up to her without saying anything. She throws the book aside, and I take her in my arms, walking with her down the corridor without recognizing myself.

“Dom?”, she asks, but I don't answer.

I take her back to my room, lock the door and carefully place her on the bed. I run the backs of my fingers over her face.

“You'd better stay here with me.”

I lie down next to her. She turns to me.

“Did something happen?”, she asks in a soft voice.

“No. If you need anything, just call me.”

She agrees with a wink and lies down with her back to me. With her beside me, I finally allow myself to fall asleep. My body feels heavy and I black out.

I wake up to a kick, followed by an elbow that makes me gasp at the impact. I grab Kiki's arms, which move frantically, as if she's struggling with something. She wriggles on the bed and then I pull her close, wrapping her body around mine, trapping her legs with mine and holding her arms. Little by little, she calms down, her breathing becomes quieter and quieter. I breathe along with her, feeling her perfume and the warmth of her skin against mine and the only thing I think before I go back to sleep is that I'm so fucked!

Kiki

I wake up, feeling Dom's strong arms around me in a warm, delicious hug, the kind of touch that makes me let out a little sigh of relief that he's back. I missed him so much. Those two days away were one of the worst choices I've ever made, but they were necessary. I needed to think about everything that had happened and I didn't want anyone to witness my vulnerable moment. Not even when I woke up not knowing who I was, with a woman trying to kill me. I was stunned. I don't know how many terrible moments I've been through, but what happened to Lohan in the casino was terrible. I felt weak, stupid, guilty, dirty and filled with hatred. I felt I had to get away or I would destroy everything around me, as if I were a bomb about to explode. I don't want to go back to that. I want to forget, but I can't. Sometimes it's all right, sometimes it's all wrong. And when I remember, I feel sick to my stomach. I don't want this event to revolve around my life. I'm doing my best to deal with it without beating around the bush. I can't beat myself up or blame myself forever, that won't get me anywhere. That's the conclusion I came to in the online therapy session I had in Nice.

I was prepared for many scenarios when I got back, but none of them included finding Dom in the state I did: drunk and certainly on drugs. I imagine it wasn't easy for him to see his friend of so many years commit such insanity. I blame myself for leaving him alone at that moment. He said everything was fine, that he worked non-stop. I heard Berta and Mathilde commenting yesterday that it had been many years since Dom had had a reaction like that. Drinking? Not long ago, I've seen him like this before. I can't bear to see him like this. Anyway, I'm going to find out what happened.

I settle down again, noticing our legs tangled together, and sink deeper into Dominique. The warmth of his body envelops me, and I fall asleep again, feeling safe and calm.

“Wake up, dolly.”

I smell Dom's woody scent and feel his mouth slowly kissing my neck. Chills run through my body, causing a delicious sensation of warmth. I open my eyes and find him sitting on the bed, already dressed in an impeccable black suit. His impenetrable gray eyes stare at me and my heart races for a moment.

“Get ready, you're going to the casino with me today.”

I take a deep breath, raise my torso and sit down on the bed. I fiddle with my hair, feeling the stitches in my scalp and a slight ache.

“I was thinking... are we going parachuting today? Tomorrow? You can catch me in the air again, I don't mind”, I say, excited.

Dominique gets out of bed, straightening his jacket.

“It won't work. It's too windy, it makes jumping difficult.”

“What about bungee jumping?”, I insist.

He shakes his head negatively.

“The wind is also getting in the way. And it's going to rain.”

“What about rafting? Will the rain fall, mix with the gale and capsize the boat?”, I joke, frustrated.

Dom nods.

“Exactly.”

My shoulders slump. I look back towards the sliding glass doors, finding the curtains open and a sunny day.

“Dom, it's not going to rain... why are you doing this?”, I ask, my voice filled with uncertainty.

He walks into the closet, without looking at me directly, just glancing over his shoulder.

“For our own safety”, he says, with a serious tone, disappearing into the closet.

I pinch myself in disbelief. Nothing he says makes sense. What a strange way to keep myself safe... by getting away from him. I take a deep breath, uncover myself and get out of bed. I go to my room, take a quick shower and dress quickly in a short black dress with straps that fall to my shoulders. I put on a little make-up to hide the dark circles under my eyes, no one needs to know how exhausted I am. I put on a pair of thin sandals in the same color and a pair of delicate sunglasses. Bia, the chicken, is excitedly wandering around the room and I pet her before going downstairs. I get to the bottom floor of the mansion and, not hungry, Dom tries the croissant and the juice for me, but I roll over to drink the coffee. I nibble without any desire.

“Is that all?”, Dominique asks, watching me.

“Like later”, I answer, while he looks at me with an arched eyebrow, but ends up agreeing.

We drive to the casino in silence, each at one end of the car, while I check the weather forecast on my cell phone app, indicating that there will be no rain or wind this week, just sunny days...

We arrive at the casino and today it's busier than usual, people everywhere. There are already Lolla Grace fans scattered throughout the area, but we enter via the private elevator for the management. The long corridor is silent and it's eerie to be here after what happened. The scenes of what happened play like a video in my mind, reminding me of everything. All the doors are closed, and I hurry past Amélie, who is at her desk, and greet her with a brief nod. I enter Dom's office, watching him follow me. He receives a call on his cell phone and answers it, talking seriously to someone and locking the door. I go to the sofa, put my bag and sunglasses on the coffee table and sit down. I don't pay attention to what Dom is saying, ‘cause I'm lost in thought, trying to understand what's happening to him... to me... God, everything is so unstable! I put my hand to my head in frustration, suddenly feeling agonized, my heart beating in painful palpitations. I look at Dom, who is staring at me, interrupting my thoughts, and when our gazes meet, something about him grips me. It's intense, impenetrable, but at the same time... there's something there. Something he doesn't want to say. His jaw is tense, and he maintains a firm posture, like he's in control of everything. He ends the call, throwing his cell phone on the table, still focused on me.

I get up from the sofa and walk towards him, his gaze locked on mine, as if he's trying to decipher my every move. I sit on the edge of his desk and cross my legs naturally, feeling his attention on me. Dom approaches, intrigued.

“Speak”, says Dom, placing a hand on either side of my body, leaning in.

“I've been told that activities that stimulate adventure, happiness and a sense of well-being are great for treating retrograde amnesia. And jumping, for example, makes me extremely happy.”

“Do you know what makes me extremely happy? You safe”, Dom rebuts, his voice firm.

My heart races, giving an unexpected beat. I part my lips in confusion, not understanding why Dominique seems to be against something that he himself has always appreciated.

“But, Dom…”

He doesn't give me time to continue. His hands pull me into a warm, deep kiss. Our tongues meet in an enveloping movement and his taste invades all my senses. The kiss is intense but calm, filled with a strange peace that disarms me. I run my nails along his shoulders, scratching them lightly, and wrap my arm around his neck, pulling him closer. I take advantage of the closeness to gently bite his lower lip.

He pushes my legs apart firmly and I wrap them around his waist, gluing my body to his. Dom's hands slide down the side of my body, his fingers burning where they touch, creating an anticipation that makes me burn inside. The smell of him, the feel of his skin, the taste of his lips... everything about him overwhelms me. He sucks my tongue with a skill that makes me lose my strength, giving me up completely. My body heats up, one step away from begging him to fuck me the way only he knows how. And I let myself be carried away by every sensation.

“Dominique Le Blanc! Open that door! I can't stand my father anymore! He won't take me to Balenciaga!”

I try to ignore the childish voice on the other side of the door, but Dom continues to kiss me, his hands caressing my ass. I expect a slap that never comes and the absence of it perplexes me. He kisses me even harder, and I dig my nails into the back of his neck, tangling my fingers in his hair.

“Dominique won't take you there. Stop putting on a show, you're not a clown. Go back to your room!”, Maurice's voice comes out, trying to keep his patience.

“I'm not going back!”, rebuts the stubborn voice.

“Jolie!”, Maurice's voice threatens, accompanied by more frantic knocks on the door

“Dominique!”, insists the childish voice.

“He doesn't even want to talk to you because you're so boring. This isn't a club, it's my job!”

Dom gives me one last kiss, his eyes locked on mine and strokes my cheek with the back of his fingers before walking away. I let out a sigh, pull myself together and get off the table. Dom walks to the door, unlocks it and opens it at once.

“What's this fair on my doorstep?”, he asks, his voice laden with sarcasm, in a false tone of reprimand, “Your father doesn't give a damn, does he? He fills my bag and yours.”

“Oh, thank God, Uncle Dom! Can you take your favorite goddaughter to Balenciaga, since my father doesn't want to go? Because he's full of ‘work to do’?”

So this is Maurice's daughter?

“And who's to say I don't have my hands full too?”, Dominique retorts.

“No Balenciaga!”, Maurice's voice shouts from the hallway.

Suddenly, I see the girl push Dom inside and close the door in Maurice's face. I laugh, pretending I'm not here, loving the girl's strong personality. Her hair is straight and black, her eyes are blue like Maurice's and she's wearing a black leather jacket with matching cargo pants and a rivet belt. On her feet, an All Stars. She must be the same age as Chérie, although their personalities are certainly opposite.

“I know you have a lot to do, but you have to find a way. I want to see Lolla with an outfit that matches the name of the tour: self-explosive!”

“Just let her spend ten minutes with your father and she'll explode”, I drop, without meaning to, settling back on the sofa.

Dom and Jolie turn their attention to me. Dominique laughs and says:

“It's not a bad idea.”

“What a great idea! I love it…”, the girl pauses for a moment, “Who are you?”

I widen my eyes, not knowing how to introduce myself. The amnesiac? The scammer? The stylist?

“Your godfather's stylist.”

“Shut up! You're kidding! I've always wanted one. There's a super trendy one here in Monaco. She dresses a lot of my friends' mothers and my friends also want to be dressed by her, but their mothers won't let them because they say she doesn't do children or teenagers. Her age range is 20+. I looked on I*******m, but there's nothing about her. It's just word of mouth. They say she's very successful, even here in the casino.”

“And how do you know that, shorty?”, asks Dom.

“Word of mouth is great, they say she stops at the salon when she walks past.”

I feel my cheeks burn and I swallow. Dominique turns towards me, as if to say, "Is everyone looking at you?”, I nod.

“It's not even that much”, I say, shrugging.

The girl's eyes widen:

“I can't believe it! Is that you? My savior!”, she comes up to me, taking my hand, “You must help me. I want to be the darkest coquette of the night. I can't wait to turn 20! How much do you want? My father's paying. He's outside”, she speaks in a pleading tone.

Maurice comes bursting through the door, a heavy look on his face, throwing some documents on Dom's desk.

“Your grandma’s not in Monaco and there's no one to take you. Dom's full of work, look at this”, he points to the documents.

“I've already found someone to take me”, Jolie points at me.

Maurice shakes his head in denial.

“She’s back?”, he says, looking from me to Dom, analyzing, judging. I'm not sure.

But Dominique's face is clenched, with a cutting look. What happened while I was away? Everyone is so strange.

“You know her and you didn't introduce me to her? You know how much I've told you about this, Dad!”

Maurice rolls his eyes. Before I can say anything, Dom takes the lead:

“I'll take her. Kiara's going to Chanel and I'll take Jolie to do whatever she wants”, he speaks in an assertive tone.

Maurice turns to Dom:

“Take Jolie for lunch. Only organic food, no fat, lactose or sugar. And bring her back when you've finished.”

“I take back everything I said, Dad. You're the best, the greatest. You put tramps in jail and, when necessary, you take them out!”

“I told you to stop fucking swearing. And stop pulling my leg”, says Maurice, turning to leave, “And you, no swearing around her, fucker”, he says to Dominique before leaving, slamming the door.

Jolie closes her hand in a fist, pulling back in celebration.

Before lunch, we had already passed several designer stores. I did some consulting for Jolie, and it went very smoothly. She didn't even need me; in the end, she chose and took what she wanted. You can't be surprised, there's someone to pull on. Blanca, who has just arrived, is a different story. She likes everything, but when it comes to pay, she gives up and starts shopping again. And, of course, her outfit must be perfect to see Lolla Grace.

“Kiki, I'm taking everything! I've made up my mind, I need options!”, Blanca shouts from the other side of the store.

I roll my eyes, pull a blue dress from the rack, take a quick look and put it back.

“Wrap it up”, Dom orders the saleswoman without even asking.

I look at him, confused.

“Dom, I was just looking.”

“Why look when you can have?”

He's been doing it in all the stores. I can now go months without repeating outfits. He shrugs his shoulders.

“You haven't chosen anything to go to the show, so I'm giving you options. Blanca's already taken the whole store and so has the brat.”

“I've already got my outfit: jeans, a T-shirt and a bow tie. That's fine. Maybe I need to run.”

His expression immediately tightens. His gaze becomes more serious, his posture rigid. His discomfort is visible. He's tense, angry.

“Fuck, Kiara. Personal stylist to walk around like a beggar in my casino? No fucking way.”

Dom intends to leave but comes back and sticks his finger in my face.

“You'd better choose something.”

His cell phone rings. He takes it out of his pocket and, before answering, fires:

“When I finish this call, I want to see you with the bag.”

Something's strange... I wonder what happened while I was away?

We had lunch together, and Dom gave Jolie everything she wanted to eat, completely disallowing Maurice. No wonder the little girl adores him. I didn't know Dom was so good with children, and I didn't even know he liked them, and I confess it was a surprise to see him so at ease with her, as if the tension and control that surrounded him disappeared in her presence. And it was a relief to see him smile. I was relieved, maybe his mood will improve. Jolie is a cutie, but the girl is fiery. She's a copy of Maurice with a sense of humor, and Dom encourages her instead of scolding her.

The drive back to the casino was uneventful. Jolie went to meet Maurice, who was already waiting for her, then we went home. Blanca came along because we'd agreed to get ready together, but Dominique wouldn't let me go to her house with the argument: "she fought so hard for her closet and you won't show it to her? What a terrible friend”. And that's all it took to set Blanca on fire, as she decided that we would debut the closet. I realize what's wrong with Dom. He's surrounding me, he hasn't left me alone for a minute and I'm beginning to wonder why he's so overprotective. It's totally opposite to normal behavior and, in a way, it's shocking. Because, although he's close, he seems far away from me. Dom went to the office, while Blanca met Bia when she came into the room and the two of them got on very well, as I had already imagined. A knock on the door interrupts our moment. I open it and find Berta with a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, two glasses and a bowl of strawberries on a silver tray.

“If you carry on like this, I'll end up becoming your friend, eh? You're all nice to us”, Blanca jokes.

“Dom asked me to bring it. Do you need anything else?”, Berta places the tray on the coffee table and Blanca grabs the bottle to pop the champagne.

“No, thank you, Berta. That's fine.”

“Do you need any medicine? Are you in pain?”, she insists .

“I'm fine, don't worry”, I deny it with a smile.

Berta leaves and Blanca turns to me with a frown, as she pours the glasses.

“Have I entered the right house? Dominique hasn't left your side all day. He was nice, as if that was normal... I saw him laughing, Kiki. And it wasn't even sarcasm or insulting anyone.”

“I've been wondering that since the day I arrived. You've noticed it too, haven't you? It's all very strange”, I confirm, shaking my head.

“It feels like we're in a parallel reality”, Blanca laughs, taking a sip of her drink.

I pick up my pod and take a drag, feeling the taste of red fruits. With my glass in hand, I leave the room and go downstairs to Dom's office. I knock on the door and hear his voice:

“Come in.”

When I open the door, I see him. His blond hair is messy, surrounded by papers, and he's not wearing a suit. His white shirt is unbuttoned to the first button, with the sleeves rolled up, revealing his arms. The sight makes me burn inside. I close the door and walk towards him. Dominique's gaze follows my movements and his gray eyes roam over my body, as if analyzing me. I hand him the glass and he tastes the champagne without looking away. I moisten my lips, feeling my body respond to the growing tension between us. When he's finished drinking, I pass the glass from his hand to mine and sit on his lap. I want to prove that this is all just a hallucination, that he's not actually strange with me. That's what I most want to believe. I lean over, brushing my nose against his ear, smelling his perfume, waiting for him to touch me, but his hands remain still. This behavior would have been unimaginable before. I swallow, but decide to continue. I kiss his cheek, waiting for his explosive reaction. I wait for anything to show me that he wants this. But instead, Dominique holds my chin gently, without really grabbing me, and his eyes meet mine.

“I need to finish here before we go, so…”, he says, calmly.

Something inside me snaps. I don't let it show, I smile slightly, get up from his lap and pick up the glass. I leave the office, close the door and pour the champagne all at once, feeling the sweet taste go bitterly down my throat. I make my way back to my room, the feeling of rejection weighing on every step. As I close the door, I find Blanca lying on the bed, eating the strawberries and offering a piece to Bia, who accepts it enthusiastically.

“She's a cutie. Shall we share? One day with you, one day with me?”, Blanca jokes.

I don't answer, I just go to the closet and enter the suite. I start to tear off my clothes in desperation, throwing them all over the floor. I step under the shower, letting the hot water run over my body, but it's not enough. I feel dirty. How could he want to touch me like this, after everything? I scrub my skin hard, almost bruising it, trying to erase the dirt that seems to be stuck to me, trying to erase everything that has happened. But nothing comes off. The dirt is still there. He doesn't want me anymore. It's so obvious and even if I'm being subtle, I can feel it. It's as clear as daylight. I should have seen it coming. After what happened with Lohan, how could it stay the same? I'm not his anymore. Dominique only tried to smooth things over, but the truth is that he doesn't want me. Not anymore.

I close the register and wrap myself in a towel, my skin burning from the scrubbing. I sit on the floor, hugging my knees. The suffocating sensation of panic consumes me, as if an invisible hand were squeezing my chest. I've lost him.

“Kiki!”, I hear Blanca's voice and, within seconds, she enters the bathroom, bending down beside me and wrapping me in her arms.

“I fucked everything up…”, the words come out shaky, almost soundless, “I gave Lohan the opening. Dominique knows I'm to blame, and now he's rejecting me.”

Blanca holds my face firmly, forcing me to look into her eyes.

“Are you crazy? Where's your fault, Kiki? He doesn't think so. Nobody thinks so! Did you hear me?”

I look away, staring at the wet ground.

“He doesn't want me anymore. He doesn't know how to say it, but I feel it. I shouldn't have come back. I knew it, but I missed it…”

Blanca strokes my hair, trying to calm me down.

“Shhh... calm down, my love. Dominique is just as confused as you are.”

“No, Blanca! He doesn't get confused! He never loses control! Don't you understand?”, I scream, my voice choked with pain.

“That's what he wants you to think, Kiki. He's as lost as you are. If he didn't care, do you think he would have destroyed the whole house? He tore everything down: the artwork, the furniture, everything was upside down. And there were boxes coming in and out to bring in the furniture, identical to the old one, so you wouldn't notice, that's for sure. The works floor is empty”, Blanca whispers, trying to make me understand.

 That explains one part, but doesn't justify the other.

“How do you know that?”, I ask, stepping back a little.

“I came to see if he'd heard from you, but I ended up seeing the damage.”

I stand up in an impulse, leaving Blanca on the floor.

“Where are you going?”, she asks, worried.

I take a deep, determined breath and leave the room, taking the elevator. I press the button for the fourth floor and as I step out into the great hall, I'm greeted by emptiness. The works, the paintings, the statues, all gone. He really has gone mad. But that still doesn't explain why he rejected me. I return to the elevator, but this time something inside me begins to change. If he destroyed everything, it was out of anger, out of frustration, it has nothing to do with me. I need answers and I'm prepared to face anything, even Dominique's anger.