The Crimson Statue ( gxg )

𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈⎪Buffoons, Boobs, and Bullets

THE SUN ROSE IN THE MORNING, YET SPARING ZAIRA OF THE PAINFUL REALITY OF WAKING UP. The clock had cried out at 11 o'clock, followed by the obnoxious ring of the telephone in the hallway, the noise forcing Zaira awake. She grumbled at the wretched sound before yanking her covers that entrapped her in its warmth, muttering curses in Italian at the sudden cold that attacked her, it only increasing in ferocity once she jumped out of the bed, hobbling over toward the door.

She yanked the creme colored door opened before shuffling over to the annoying telephone that refused to shut up, stubbing her toe at the doorframe in the process.

"PORCA PUTTANA. Mangia merde e morte," Zaira hissed, howling in pain as she clutched onto her poor little pinkie toe hopping around like a mad woman.

Needless to say, the permanent scowl that was etched on her face became much more defined, as she clutching her fists in fury before stomping off toward the phone which surprisingly, was still ringing. Unlike the usual poised and neat look she sported, Zaira's hair was a tangled mop over her head, robe untied, with steam coming out of her ears in anger. Once she had finally reached the stupid phone that destroyed her beauty sleep, her manicured hand shot gripped the poor device with such force that for a second it seemed like it would break.

"Sí," she growled.

"M-Mi s-scusi, signora. Y-You have a visitor," stuttered the poor woman on the phone, panic rising in her heart as soon as she heard the harsh tone Zaira used.

Zaira noticed the woman's panic yet made no effort to calm the woman. If she couldn't handle a little heat then she was simply not fit for this job. It is not her job to console the woman, all she had said was a simple yes. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the fear humans got from the simplest of things.

"Who is it?" she harshly questioned, knowing it was most likely Fiero, as he was the only one who ever visited her, though it never hurt to be cautious.

The woman paused for a second, as if to calm herself down before she spoke again, "It is Signore Vicario, Signora."

"Send him in."

And that was all she said before harshly slamming the phone down on the receiver, sighing in anger and the turn of events. Fiero's arrival meant many things, either he would force her to leave her home, or would return to his extremely annoying persona while eating all the food in her home. At least when they left the house he would act much more....professional. The soft padding of her feet could barely be heard in the silence of her wing, the only 'gift' from her parents that she cared for - not that gave her gifts though(not counting all the issues they gave her).

She knew the real reason why they let her have the West Wing of the mansion all to herself, of course it was not a gift out of love. Rather a power play, a move to ensure that she would stay in the mansion, in their control, yet far enough away as to not have to see her every day. Zaira didn't mind though, deep down she knew there was no escape from the clutches of her parents until the day their coffin of lies and deceit closed in on them. Even then she never would be out of their control. She knew all of it, yet she played a fool and chose to relish the freedom she had been given, knowing this was all she could get.

She did not have to be around those creatures on a daily basis, and for that, she was rather thankful, she despised her parents and they too despised her. The only creature she ever had the misfortune of dealing with on a daily was Fiero, but he wasn't all too bad, aside from his tendencies to act like a clueless idiot, of course.