couple times and done a few video chats, though I’ve made sure to put a filter over my face—cat whiskers with big glasses is my favorite one. It makes my eyes look all huge and distorted. We’ve also played with unicorn head, monster teeth, and a bunch of others. She thinks it’s really funny and has no idea I’m just too damn scared to let her see my actual face.
I guess she will soon, though.
Crap, I hope she doesn’t recognize me.
Tabby doesn’t seem the type of person to follow Hollywood gossip or anything, so I’m feeling kind of safe in that regard. I’ve probed a few times, but she seems totally disinterested in that kind of thing. Get her talking about hiking, nature, farming and she basically won’t stop. She’s the perfect friend for me, and hopefully she has a whole bunch of other perfect friends who don’t know me either.
My stomach bunches as nerves scatter.
“It’s gonna be okay,” I whisper.
A knock on my door startles me, and I quickly send a couple emojis to Tabby before dropping my phone on the mattress and trying to prepare myself for whatever’s about to ruin my afternoon. “Come in.”
Loretta appears, her lined cheeks paler than usual, her brown eyes swimming with worry.
“What's the matter?”
”Your father wants to see you downstairs.”
Ruby’s wail wafts up from below.
I cringe. “Is everything okay?”
“No, il mil topolina.” Loretta’s usually rolling her eyes with me at his point. The fact that she’s still looking worried has me climbing off my bed. “Venire. Venire.”
I follow her down the hallway, her short, stout body covering the distance faster than usual.
What the hell is going on?
Ruby’s alternating between sobs, wails, and high-pitched words that only dogs can hear.
I brace myself and walk into Daddy’s office/den, quickly surveying the scene.
Angelica is nestled beside her daughter in the oversized armchair near Daddy’s desk. Her arm is tightly around her shoulders while Ruby wipes tears from her eyes.
Dad’s sitting behind a thick barrier of mahogany, looking grave.
I glance at Azim. Our head of security usually gives me a little wink or headshake to let me know this is all just the usual drama.
Today, he gives me a grim smile.
“What's going on?” I cross my arms, resisting Loretta’s hand on my back as she tries to push me farther into the room.
I plant my feet and stare at my father.
“A letter came today.” His deep voice reverberates throughout the room. “You’re in danger.”
My blood runs just a little chilly, which I hate.
I don’t want to be affected by the drama. I spend most of my time actively avoiding it. Everyone in this freaking family always overreacts.
With a sideways glance at Ruby, I reach for the plastic bag Daddy’s holding out to me.
I take it. The note has been typed, the font swirly and a little hard to read, if you ask me.
My eyes scan the text.
To the richest, most beautiful girl in the world,
You have everything, yet I know you are sad.
Why do you go on living when there is no joy in it?
I could make you happy. I could teach you how to smile.
But you would not want me.
I watch you from afar, knowing this truth. Hating this truth.
It kills me that we can never be together.
Castle keeps us apart. Castle controls it all.
But he has no power over death.
And if I should die, then why shouldn’t you?
I shall bury you with me, and we will breathe our last together.
One final act of love before we are taken to a higher place where the world’s troubles can touch us no more.
Your suicidal inamorato
My eyes bulge. “Wow,” I mutter under my breath. “This guy’s sick.”
“He’s talking about you.” Dad points across the room.
“Me?” I scoff and hand the note back. “Why would you—”
“It’s not necessarily about her! It could be about me!” Ruby wails and starts tapping her chest. “The most beautiful girl in the world!”
I clench my teeth, forcing myself not to say anything.
“Indigo’s the one who never smiles. Gossip columns are always talking about how she’s so sad.” Dad’s glare catches me, feeling like a slap to the face.
I look away from it, refusing to feel bad.
I never asked to be photographed for the media. My smile is not public property, and I’m not just giving it away to a bunch of gossip-hungry people with nothing better to do. The last time I did that, they criticized every little thing about me—my outfit was too dated, my teeth were too big, my smile