Chapter 28: Grilfriends

Savannah

I don't love him, but I care for him. Okay, I don't want him dead, put it that way.

I don't know what will happen, but it will happen here, and I will be prepared.

Luciano haver free reign of the Estate and control of the staff. For someone who trusts me he sure is trusting.

Then I remember. Cameras. Everywhere. No doubt they pick up sound.

I smirk. At least he's not idiot.

I like him a bit more.

I head down to the kitchen. Maids are easiest comprised. I would know. They have no real ties to the Mafia nor it's dealings. Most of them are in debt, and instead if dying, they're cleaning.

Menial work – freedom + risk of death + desperation = disaster.

My best friend is a maid. I watch her even more closely. I'm not likable, and I like it that way.

I insulted her the first time I saw her.

It has been my experience that people who like me, are like me.

I don't trust me.

Deena smiles when she sees me and I find myself genuinely smiling back.

"Hey girlie! Long time no see!" Only Deena would call me girlie and walk away unscathed.

"Whatchu doing?"

She smirks. "Spying on maids. Wanna join?"

I nod.

"I heard she's beautiful, and has known him a long time."

Why do I get the feeling they're not talking about me?

"She's flying all the way from Italy to be with him."

"I told you the brown haired tramp was a phase."

I don't even register that as an insult. It's more like a...very general description.

Deanna however does not agree.

"I know you three bitches didn't call my best friend a tramp?"

They don't look afraid, and they don't even notice me. Even better.

"Cause she is. And when the real Queen comes, she'll be gone quicker than Santa can say Hoe, Hoe, Hoe."

Deena slammed her fist into that poor girls face, and I think a crunch.

Damnit.

"Alright, that's enough." Deena was glaring in contempt, not even acknowledging me. "Deena, let's go. Let Luciano handle it."

I wouldn't really tell him. Last week, a guard made fun of me, and Lucy shot him. Four times.

I drag my fuming friend away, ignoring her righteous fury and her rant. I dragged her all the way into my room, where I shut the door.

"Who were they talking about?"

Deena blinks.

"Well? Who is the bitch?"

"That bitch would be me. I prefer Amanda though."

I turn around, taking stock of the woman before me. Instantly, I hate her. She's skinning and tan and perfect.

God I hate her perfect self.

"Who are you Amanda?"

She lifts a perfectly(and I mean perfectly) arched brow. "To who? You or your boyfriend!"

"Fiancée and yes, him. Obviously you're nobody to me."

Deena nervously, pokes me. "Maybe we shou—"

I ignore her, stepping closer to Amanda.

She's like stone, but I recognize the wildness in her eyes. I see everyday in the mirror.

"Well?"

We're nose to nose now. She even smells perfect.

"You want the truth or the truth?"

"I want whatever truth is true. If both are true I want the truest."

Her eyes meet mine, so similar. She's worse than me, I think. I haven't gone off the edge yet. She has.

Our demons dance.

"The only reason I'm not stabbing you in the throat with my key, is because you are my uncles inamorata."

"Uncle?!" Deena shouted in confusion.

"Key?!" I shouted I n awe.

Does her perfection end.

"Key. Key, why didn't I think key? I thought shoe."

Amanda smiled. "He was right. We aren't that different. I will explain. Then I will tell about the key."

Key...

"So wait you're the infamous Queen of the South?

"So wait, all this time I've been using knives when a key was more painful?"

Deena shot a glare at me.

"Yes. And yes. You gotta think outta the box, y'know?"

I nodded. To hell with Luciano. I wanna be with her. She's awesome. And I don't even roll that way.

"Yeah. Like while some would think shoe to the head, I think shoe to the ear. Much more effective, and actually, way more painful."

I have a lot of inspiration from my childhood.

"Ttue. It also knocks coordination out of the park."

I nod vigorously in agreement.

"It's a gift that keeps on giving."

"But what if your not wearing heels? See the trick is, to make a weapon out of everything you touch. Relying on weapons? That'll get you killed."

"I knew a guy who shot himself. By accident. He aiming for the other guy."

The three of us looked at one anouther. "Men."

"Look, if you carry a purse, it needs to heavy. I could kill you with a cardboard box—"

She smiles. "Rip a piece and cram if down your throat. Once it's in your mouth, it's over."

"Choked to death with a cardboard box..."

Where had this chick been all my life?

I look at Deena. She's smiling as well, not looking the least bit disturbed.

In fact, she seems almost as thrilled as I am.

Didn't I tell you?

"You a closet serial killer, Dee?"

Her smile dropped. "It's just you were smiling pretty hard, kinda like we are. But... We're a pair of murders and because of our Pycho/sociopathic tendencies, we enjoy it."

"You're a maid, you weren't a cop or any type of government agency because you would be dead. So what's your excuse?"