His Princesa Mexicana | 18+

N I N E

Pearl, my best friend, my big sister, the girl that Mama accepted because she was my first friend, turned out to be working with an abusive, malicious, and cruel man, who seeks destruction similar to the way his body seeks oxygen—my biological father.

Seeing her again today triggered a rush of emotions, particularly anger, rushing in like flashing red visions flooding my brain, controlling my every breath and action.

That's why I'm standing here, gun in hand, my body coated in blood, Pearl lying lifeless at my feet, and Alessandro's grip firm on my wrist – the events leading to this moment, a fog in my memory.

I had a total blackout; I experienced a complete sensory shutdown.

Gradually, the scene unfolded in my mind, each detail registering one after the other. In a ripple effect, my senses returned—I felt her dirty blood clinging to me, sensed Alessandro's pulse syncing with mine, and grasped the weight of the gun in my hand.

Looking at her, a sense of relief for my revenge mingled with a touch of surprise at the stark image before me. While vengeance was my aim, the outcome unfolded in an uglier way, that I hadn't fully anticipated. Despite it all, a chilling, merciless smile curved my lips. Why? Because she was finally gone. One down, just one more to go.

The whole mess of noise and jumbled sounds just faded away, and suddenly, I could hear Alessandro's voice asking over and over, "Hey, Princesa, can you hear me?"

"Yeah!" I nod.

"Are you okay?" He intrigued, scanning my face, but there was no concern in his eyes whatsoever. Actually, it was more like a twisted amusement shining through.

"Am I, ok?" I asked, confused, wondering why he was all concerned about me instead of Pearl, or, you know, asking why I did what I did.

Too cautious to pry into why he found all of this amusing, I didn't ask.

Like he didn't believe it; he kept shifting his gaze from one of my eyes to the other, like he was waiting for a different answer. That reaction managed to annoy me as the revenge high wore off.

I yanked my arm free from his grip, trying not to be too rough and trigger his maniacal psychotic amusement. I tossed the gun at Pearl's lifeless form and headed for the door, ready to leave.

"But who could have thought?" I hear him say behind me, as I continue on my path to the exit.

"The princesa, Clarisa," He said it with a mocking tone, making me stop in my tracks and turn to face him.

He pointed at Pearl, or rather, what used to be Pearl. "Could manage to pull a masterpiece like that."

I mentally flinched. He really struck the head of the nail there.

It wasn't what I did to the girl; it was the fact that it amused someone like Alessandro Galletti, a psychopath. He usually keeps it under wraps, but at dinner, when his dad cautioned him about any disturbing plans he might have, that confirmed it for me: he's a psychopath.

And the realization that I was the one providing that amusement made me recoil.

But in true me style, I couldn't resist running my mouth and talking back. "So what are you saying? That you thought a normal princesa, like you rightly pointed out would dare talk back to the oh-so-mighty soon-to-be don?" I said, making sure to lace my tone with mockery, which earned me a raise of his dark brow.

"No," he uttered, drawing out the silence long enough for me to wear a smug expression and prepare a retort. But just as I opened my mouth to reply, he continued, "I simply thought you were a five-foot imbecile, not a formidable princess."