Chapter 56 Paper Walls
When I walked into the nursery the next morning, the box was back.
It sat in the center of the pristine, military-made bed like a jagged scar on a perfect face. The cardboard flaps were open, spilling a chaotic rainbow of plush animals, plastic tea sets, and crumpled drawings onto the white duvet.
Jasmine was sitting next to it. She wasn't playing. She was just staring at it, touching the ear of her rabbit as if she needed to verify it was solid.
"He brought them back," she whispered when she saw me.
"Who?" I asked, though I knew.
"Uncle Dante," she said. "He came in last night. He told me to put them wherever I wanted."
She looked up at me, her dark eyes wide and uncertain. "He said nobody is allowed to touch them again."
I felt a knot loosen in my chest. He chose us.
I sat down on the edge of the bed. "Well," I said, picking up a bright yellow stuffed duck. "If the Boss says nobody can touch them, we should probably make sure they're guarded properly."
Jasmine frowned. "How?"
"We need a fortress," I said. "A better one than this."
I stood up and offered her my hand.
"Come on. We're cancelling school today."
We went to the library.
It was a massive, solemn room filled with the smell of old paper and leather. It was the kind of room designed for serious men to discuss serious wars.
We desecrated it immediately.
I pulled the heavy velvet cushions off the antique sofas. Jasmine raided the lower shelves, pulling out massive, leather-bound encyclopedias to use as bricks. We draped blankets over the backs of chairs and propped them up with first editions of Italian poetry.
For three hours, there was no Lucrezia. There was no Rinaldi. There was no war.
There was only the Castle of Cushions.
"This is the throne room," Jasmine declared, crawling inside the dark, cozy tunnel we’d created beneath the mahogany reading table. She dragged Snowball in with her. "And that's the dungeon for the bad guys."
She pointed to the wastebasket.
"Agreed," I said, crawling in after her. It was a tight fit, but I managed to squeeze in, sitting cross-legged on the Persian rug.
The light filtered through the blanket roof, turning the space a soft, hazy gold. It felt safe in here. It felt like the rest of the fortress couldn't reach us.
"Lilith?" Jasmine asked quietly. She was arranging her tea set on a stack of books.
"Yeah, Jas?"
"Are you going to go away?"
I stopped arranging the pillows. I looked at her.
"Why would you ask that?"
"Lucrezia said you're a guest," she said, her voice small. "Guests leave."
My heart ached. I reached out and took her hand. It was so small in mine.
"I'm not a guest," I said firmly. "I'm family. And family doesn't leave."
She looked at me, searching my face for a lie. When she didn't find one, she gave me a small, tentative smile.
"Okay," she whispered. "Then you can be the Queen."
We heard footsteps then. Heavy, deliberate steps on the hardwood floor outside our blanket walls.
Jasmine froze. The smile vanished.
I put a finger to my lips and shifted, peering through a gap in the cushions.
Dante was standing in the doorway of the library.
He was wearing his usual black suit, looking sharp and lethal, but he had stopped dead in his tracks. He was staring at the disaster we had made of his study. The overturned chairs. The mountain of pillows. The books scattered like leaves.
He didn't look angry.
He looked... relieved.
For a moment, his eyes scanned the room until they landed on the gap in the blankets where I was hiding. Our eyes met.
He didn't smile, Dante didn't really do smiles, but the hard line of his mouth softened. He gave me a barely perceptible nod. A silent acknowledgment. Thank you.
Then he turned and walked away, leaving us to our kingdom.
The bubble burst an hour later.
We were walking back to the nursery for lunch, covered in dust and grinning like conspirators, when we turned a corner and nearly collided with Lucrezia.
She was immaculate, as always. Her white dress was crisp, her hair pulled back so tight it looked painful. She stopped, her eyes flicking over Jasmine’s disheveled hair and my dusty jeans.
The temperature in the hallway seemed to drop ten degrees.
"Charming," she said. Her voice was ice.
Jasmine shrank behind my leg. I stepped forward, blocking her view of the child.
"We were playing," I said.
"I can see that," Lucrezia said. She took a step closer. She didn't look at me; she looked past me, staring at the top of Jasmine’s head.
"Enjoy it while you can, little one," she said softly. "The world does not have room for soft things. Soft things die here."
She shifted her gaze to me. Her eyes were flat and dead.
"And those who protect them usually die first."
She brushed past us, the scent of lilies trailing behind her like funeral flowers.
I stood there, my hand gripping Jasmine’s shoulder, watching her walk away.
She knew she had lost the battle last night. Dante had chosen us. But looking at her retreating back, straight as a blade, I knew the war wasn't over. She wasn't retreating; she was regrouping.
"Come on," I said, my voice tight. "Let's get lunch."
We went back to the room. I ordered food. I put on a movie for Jasmine.
I went to the bathroom and locked the door. I leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection. I looked tired. I looked scared.
My pocket buzzed.
I pulled out the burner phone.
Why aren't you answering? I'm scared, Lilith. They're asking questions. Please.
I stared at the glowing screen.
I should tell Dante. I should march down to the War Room right now and show him this. He would know what to do. He would know if it was a trap.
But I thought about the library. I thought about the way he had looked at us, peaceful, for the first time in weeks. I thought about the "Paper Walls" we had built to keep the monsters out.
If I showed him this, the peace would end. The war would come crashing back in.
I typed a message.
I'm here. I'm safe. Don't worry.
I hit send.
I slid the phone back into my pocket.
I knew I was making a mistake. I knew secrets were dangerous in a house built on lies. But for one more day, I just wanted to be the Queen of the cushion castle, not the prisoner of the Viper.