to admit.
After flopping onto my bed and throwing an arm over my eyes, I take a moment to deliberate. Perhaps I should let India’s head housekeeper pack my belongings? I can’t give Dimitri what he wants, so letting him go may be the nicest thing I could ever give him.
That’s what I do.
I forever place everyone’s needs before my own.
My inability to place myself first is the only reason I didn’t replace the sauce stains on India’s blouse with blood. Believe me, it was hard walking away. It took all my strength.
Do I feel like the better person? No, I don’t. But at least I didn’t force Fien to witness more violence than she already has in her short life.
My deliberation gets a much-needed intermission when a tiny gust of air trickles into my ears. My door isn’t locked. Excluding Rocco, no one comes down here. I usually hear the clumps of his boots long before he knocks on my door. That didn’t happen this time around. My greeter’s steps sounded as weightless as a feather.
Curious, I prop myself onto my elbows before I stray my eyes to the door. My heart pitter-patters in my chest when I spot an envelope on the floor mere inches from the carved wooden door. It isn’t overly fancy, but the gilded cardboard inside of it most certainly is.
I creep toward the envelope like it could explode at any moment. When it fails to detonate, I scoop down and gather it up, breathing easier when I notice it is minus a single smear of spaghetti sauce.
Although my inquisitiveness is demanding for me to open the envelope this very instant, a much higher, much more willful stubbornness sees me opening the door to my room instead.
“Audrey…” I call out, certain she is the owner of the red locks swishing around the corner. Her hair is beautiful and healthy since she never chemically bleached it to change its natural coloring. I often envy it when I need a moment of reprieve from Dimitri’s glaring stare across the dining room table. He wanted me uncomfortable enough not to eat. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I gobbled down my meals like my stomach wasn’t bulging against the zipper in my pants, begging for some room. Then, when it produced the infamous half-smirk Dimitri would give anything to remove from his face, I tackled dessert as well.
When Audrey fails to hear my shout, I re-enter my room, close the door, then rip open the envelope like a savage. If my deliverer is who I think it was, something major must be happening. I haven’t had many interactions with Audrey the past three days, but everyone we’ve had has involved Dimitri in some way.
The twinge of rejection I’ve been struggling to ignore the past four days gets a boost when my eyes scan a handwritten invitation. There’s no indication it was meant to be addressed to me, and its prose indicates it’s for an event way above my level of sophistication, but I act ignorant.
The event at an exclusive nightclub commences two hours before I’m due to fly out.
Its timing couldn’t be more perfect.
My value hasn’t decreased because Dimitri no longer sees my worth. If anything, it has increased because he helped me find the strength to believe I’m worth more than nothing, and now I have the chance to expose exactly how valuable I am.
A smirk etches onto my mouth when Rocco takes a staggering step back. “What the fuck, Princess P? I thought I was driving you to the airport?” As he chews on the corner of his lower lip, he rakes his eyes over my body-hugging strapless top, skintight leather pants, and pumps that would make most men cream their pants just at the thought of having them curled around their sweaty hips. It killed me trying to squeeze my ballooned foot into the tiny opening of my stiletto, but I made it work, determined it added to the authenticity of my ruse. “That outfit is not flight appropriate. I’m not even sure it’s club-worthy.” I realize I hit the bullseye when he grabs his crotch, wordlessly begging for it to calm down. “It’s gonna give D a heart attack.”
“Good.” I snatch up my denim jacket and clutch purse from a set of drawers next to the door, then bump Rocco with my hip to barge him into the corridor so I can latch the lock into place. “Because that is the exact look I