Inside the Viper's Nest

three

THE CRIMSON RED LIPSTICK Verona was applying reminded her of her mother. She had very few memories of her, but the one she'll never forget was that of Sofia painting her lips in that exact shade.

She had always smelled like roses, probably due to the fact that she had spent years growing them. After her death, Sebastian tore down her gardens. Verona, barely four at the time, had thrown a rock at his head in retaliation. She was surprised she lived to tell the tale.

She missed her, especially in times like these where being the only woman in the house was terribly lonely. Missed her father too, and his booming laughter that filled the entire estate with joy and delight.

She took a moment to look at herself through the vanity. Her brown hair, pin-straight, fell to her waist. Her nails matched the colour of her lipstick, and her dress was of satin black with a V-neck. It wrapped around her waist on both sides, making her body look like an hourglass. On her right hand, was the family ring. Hers was gold, with the letters DR engraved in its center. Every member of their house got one on their eighteenth birthday.

Would her parents be proud, if they were to see the woman Verona was growing into? Or would they be disappointed that she was going behind the family name, the very one they died bearing?

Her phone rang, and Verona was grateful for the distraction. She couldn't bare the thought of letting her parents down, even if they weren't there to see her failures. "Are you ready?" Asked Zara on the other side of the line. "We're almost there."

"Yes," answered Verona, putting her friend on speaker. She held up a black pair of Giuseppe Zanotti heels with a gold snake ankle wrap, and decided they were perfect for her outfit. "I'll be down in five."

"Hurry up or you'll have to walk your way to the club," she joked over the music in the car. Chatter in the background indicated that her friends had joined as well, and by the sound of it, they were already tipsy.

"No, I won't," she grinned, spraying perfume on her wrists and behind her ears. "You have no way in without me." Verona had forced the twins-blackmailed, actually-to make her a reservation at twelve. They frequented the place often, and she knew they'd get her the best spot available.

Zara blew a raspberry. "Show-off," she said, before hanging up.

Verona waltzed down the stairs, heels in hand. The butler, head of the domestic staff, was waiting for her by the door, her fur coat in hand. Black, of course.

"Thank you, Winston," Verona purred, putting the coat on.

The man, older than even Sebastian, said, "Don't be late."

"Your orders or grandfathers?" She asked.

His only answer was, "It is unfit for a lady to return home late."

She stuck her tongue out. "I am a De Rohan," she offered in reply. "And a De Rohan does whatever they please."

Winston squinted his eyes at her. "An awful lot like her father this one," he mumbled under his breath.

Verona disappeared behind the doors before he could lecture her any further. She walked bare-foot to the car, deciding not to waste any more time. She'd put on her heels once she was inside. Screams and laughter greeted her as she climbed into the back of the car, and the girls were off in the dark of the night.

By the time they arrived, the two-story bar was crowded. Waiters immediately made way for them in the second floor. One of the upsides to being a De Rohan was that you never have to wait in line.

They were a total of five girls, and while Verona enjoyed partying and dancing with Zara's friends, nothing else tied them together.

There was Selene Kensington, the girl with gold curls, blue eyes, and rose-tinted cheeks. She was a living disco ball, from the way she dressed all the way to how she moved in the dark of the night. She was nice for the most part, until she got drunk and everyone's faces suddenly became magnets to her fist. Lucky for them, she was the designated driver tonight and that meant no alcohol.