Chapter 37 Girls Love Flowers
❦ Rosalind ❦
Juliana raised blood-red fingers to her lips. Her red tongue, colored from beet chips, flicked out to pick a crumb off her lower lip.
Rocco stood in front of me, his usually cold and professional mask slipping into a sheepish one.
“I didn’t mean to intrude on your space, Donna. I had a feeling you were in trouble and slipped in to check. I heard a car drive off and that’s what made me look out the window.”
“Yes, well, as you can see, we’re fine.” I raised my arms to show him my state of wellbeing.
Rafe shook his large head when Juliana offered him chips, then he turned to me.
“You really shouldn’t be leaving the house without us, Donna. It’s not safe.”
“I know.” I leaned against the fridge tiredly. “That’s why I ditched you guys. A Lyft and no guards attracts less attention than you both and an expensive car. One look at you and everyone should know you’re protecting something ‘fragile’.”
“True, true.” Juliana bobbed her head in agreement. “No offense, big guy. We’ll take y’all next time.”
I snatched the chips from her.
“Isn’t it too late for snacks? Doonnna.” She drew the word out teasingly, following me up the stairs. “I get the feeling you’re maintaining your nice figure.”
“It’s that sort of night. Trust me.”
“Mm hmm, trying to catch the eye of a certain dark-haired mob boss, are we?” She wriggled her brows suggestively, and I ignored her.
I almost told her that the mob boss was a demon from hell who’d skinned my bodyguard and threatened to kill him if I didn’t say ‘I do’.
But knowing Juliana, she would start planning the wedding, so I shut my mouth.
We reached my room and she followed me inside. She began to strip, and I looked away.
“What happened in that room?” I asked curiously.
“I should be asking you. You came out looking fucked, so I guess that’s no secret.”
“I wasn’t fucked!” I yelled after her as she entered my bathroom.
A hot blush seared my cheeks.
“If you say so!” she tittered and disappeared.
I looked around my room, goosebumps spreading on my skin as I remembered Rocco had been in here.
His excuse seemed plausible, but from my view downstairs, he hadn’t looked like he was checking to see if I was safe.
I distinctly remembered his silhouette making a movement that looked like he opened my vanity drawer.
I gravitated there instinctively, opening it carefully.
Everything was in place.
I shook off the nerves and showered after Juliana, who left to her room to change into a nightdress and returned. I did not comment on her clingy behavior. I appreciated it. I didn’t want to sleep alone tonight. Not after being threatened with marriage and having my space invaded, even for a well-meaning reason.
I watched Juliana drift off to sleep.
I closed my eyes.
I was in a wedding dress, standing in a hall so dim and cold, the white fabric cinched on my waist so tight it restricted my respiration.
Viktor stood at the pulpit, handsome as ever, flashing a menacing smile that sent a bolt of fear down my spine. His father, blue, bloated, and very dead, stood beside him.
“You’ve made your mother and I so proud, Topolina.”
I froze in the aisle, turning to look at the source of the grating voice to my left.
My father, a rotting hole in his forehead, smiled at me, tugging me down the aisle.
“No,” I whispered, throwing the bouquet down and covering my mouth with my hands.
“No!”
I screamed as he pulled me forcefully toward my husband-to-be.
The guests, smiling eerily with razor-sharp, pointy teeth, watched me struggle. Then they began to get up and approach us.
“Congratulations, Rosalind,” they murmured as one.
“You’ll make such beautiful babies with him, dear.”
“No!” My father’s grip, unrelenting, dug into my wrist, trapping me.
The crowd drew closer.
“Congratulations, Rosa!”
They began to climb over themselves to get to me, forming a hill of bodies blocking out the light.
The hill enveloped me.
I awoke with a gasp, my top soaked with sweat.
Morning rays filtered through my curtains, staining everything it touched pink. Juliana wasn’t by my side, and I tried to steady my heart with a palm.
What a dream.
This confirms that marriage was the last option I would ever take. If it meant war, so be it, but I’m keeping my assets no matter who coveted them.
I rose, still shaky, to the bathroom.
My reflection in the mirror stared back at me. My hair was already growing out, grazing my shoulders in thick black waves. The black made my skin extra pale, the bags under my eyes enhanced by my nightmarish night.
The tears fell, my shoulders shaking with sobs as I pressed my palms into my eyes, trying to erase the image of my father as I saw him. That’s not how I want to remember him.
I pulled memories of us during happy days, at the park, picking me up from school, making me my mother’s recipes every Sunday.
After brushing and showering, I headed downstairs for breakfast and to call Marcus so we could discuss the terms of Dante’s retrieval.
Rocco stood alone at the foyer, and I nodded in response to his greeting. I still felt off about last night.
I was about to greet Claudia, who was the cause of the aromatic steam spreading from the kitchen, when the doorbell rang.
I didn’t feel threatened, because Marcus had stationed men at the gate and other strategic positions around the house.
I moved to open it, Rocco following behind me.
I opened the door.
A wild riot of dahlias, tulips, magnolias, and marigolds took up the entire width of my door.
The bouquet tilted forward, and behind it, he smiled.