Enzo is waiting downstairs for me like he's my prom date. The scene is so ludicrous I could laugh. He's smoking a cigarette and fixes his eyes on me. He's eyeing me critically, looking for any flaws in my appearance. I've lost some weight, but the dress fits me well enough. There were heels at the bottom of the bag. He thought of everything, well, almost everything. A clutch would do wonders for this outfit. All I had to do was tie my hair in a low bun and pinch my cheeks. I don't have any makeup, so there's not much I can do. The dress is flowy and long. It's made of silk and chiffon, with sheer puffed long sleeves. My back is exposed. I've never owned a dress like this. I look like a different person in it. It must have cost a fortune. I fake bow. "Does my appearance please you?" He blows out smoke in my face. "We'll see."Once we're outside, there's a car waiting for us. It isn't like the usual cars, this car is fancy. Black and sleek. A limousine. I've never seen one up close
Whoever is out there knocks again.At this point, my heart's in my throat and my skin is crawling. The house is so silent that all I can hear is my erratic breathing. Enzo told me not to open the door for anyone, so I don't move. Yet the knocks are persistent. I think of the men he killed right in the living room. What if someone like them is out there, wanting to get in? My anxiety doubles.After a while, the knocking stops. I stay alert to hear any other noise, but there's absolutely silence. I sink into the mattress and take steady breaths. Now that the danger has passed, I contemplate sleep, but there's a lot on my mind. I don't understand Giotto's motives. Why would he want me there in the first place? I'm now convinced that I was probably being paranoid. No one knew who I was. I assumed he would make a public announcement or something of that nature, but as far as I know, nothing happened.So why was I there? Why was my presence necessary? After a few minutes, my mattress move
"I know you're listening," he says again. "There's no point in trying to hide."Dammit. I try to creep back into the room. I take one step and the entire house creaks. I'm so close to the door. If I could only get in there and act as if I've never heard this conversation, it would be much better. If he asked the cleaning lady to send me upstairs, then I should've never heard this. For a good reason, because a lot of it involved me. "Don't make me go up there and get you." There's an unmistakable finality in his tone. He's very well capable of dragging me downstairs and I want to avoid that at all costs. I promised myself that he would never again have the pleasure of manhandling me. I sigh. I've been caught. There's no denying it. He knows I was listening and there are only so many places I can hide. I straighten up and start descending the stairs. He's standing in the middle of the living room with a tumbler in hand. The top buttons of his shirt are undone and his hair is dishevele
Enzo stops in front of a large, abandoned building. The kind that could've been a factory. Everything around it looks run down. Even in the dark, I can tell this place hasn't been used in years. The first prickles of panic course through me. The fact that he would bring me to this place in the middle of the night is more than just suspicious. My imagination gets the best of me and I envision my own death. Being shot down and left to rot in a deserted place like this. He climbs out of his car and when he shuts the door, my entire being vibrates. Even my teeth clatter. I didn't know I had this kind of fear in me. I thought I surpassed this phase a long time ago, yet my body is reacting before my mind can even process what's happening.He stops in front of the car and watches me through the windshield. In the dark, with his long black coat, he looks like the grim reaper. All he needs is a scythe to complete the look. I start hyperventilating. My bladder feels heavy suddenly. When he st
The door opens and a tall man comes into the chamber. The light in the room illuminates his face. He's dressed in black from head to toe and he's wearing a black hat. There's a cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. He tips his hat in greeting. I know this man. This is the man who talked to me at Giotto's party. He sat beside me at the bar and offered me a drink, but I didn't see him again after I left with Enzo. His eyes dart to me, standing awkwardly in a pale blue sweater that's moth eaten and dirty sneakers. He doesn't seem surprised that I'm here. So he knew who I was all along, even that day. I don't know how to feel about that, especially since he kept asking who I was with. It's confusing for me. It doesn't make the sense that it should in my head. And I, perhaps, too slow? "Gustavo Puglia? Giotto Puglia's son?" Aurelio makes a disapproving sound at the back of his throat. "You're mad. You're all mad."His son? He's Giotto's son? I look at the man. His expression is
The three men escort me inside a massive home. This mansion popped out straight from a magazine. There's an enormous fountain right in front with fish swimming in the pond at the bottom. Every single detail is illuminated. It's night, but it could've easily been daylight. A woman in a pencil skirt and silk top opens the door for them when one of the men ring the doorbell. Her movements are gracious and elegant, her voice is as smooth as honey. "Gentlemen, Don Bianchi is waiting for you."The interior is even more lavish than the outside. Golden chandeliers, white sofas, paintings that must've cost a fortune. We walk all the way to the other side of the mansion, and every room is different, yet all the different shades are harmonious. I’ve never seen anything like this, except in home decor magazines. It’s a remarkable sight; and it makes me wonder how the hell I’m related to such people when our cottage barely had enough furniture. It’s incredulous that my mother grew up in a place l
The three days pass by in a flash. Enzo doesn't talk about it, but I brace myself. I woke up early and paced around the house until my feet ached. The cleaning lady, Maria, watches me uneasily. At any moment, he'll walk through those doors and tell me to get dressed. When I've paced the living room, I go into the bedroom. I chew my thumbnail and feel every ticking minute in my soul. I don't know what to expect today, all I know is I'll be tied to Enzo. Today makes it all official. I'll be officially his fiancée. I don't know when I managed to doze off. I wake up to Enzo hovering over me. I can't tell if he's upset that the day has arrived, or if he doesn't care. "Up, girasole. You know what day it is."I rub my eyes. There's no sense in fighting this. We're to be engaged, and that's final. "What should I wear?" This seems like the only sensible question I can ask in this moment. The rest doesn’t matter. Whatever can’t be avoided, will be ignored. "Funny you should ask that." He l
The hem of my dress is covered in blood.Not all his guests are dead. Some remain standing, breathing heavily, absolutely horrified by what has happened around them. Women were killed, too. Who were these people, and why did he kill them? Even Enzo is shocked by what we just saw. A bloodshed. A massacre.There are many bodies on the floor. It's like most of the guests were killed. The sight of all this blood is like a punch to my gut. I want to vomit so badly that my ears tear up, but I do a little trick my mother always taught me. I hum, continuously, and the urge to throw up passes. And Giotto is still dancing around by himself, stepping on the bodies, staining the soles of his shoes with their blood. He twirls around and around, bit once looking at the ground. He sighs contentedly, "This sure does clear some bad blood, doesn't it son?" I didn't see him standing there, right beside his father. Or at least, I didn't notice that it was him. There's a cigarette dangling from the corn