Gospel for the Wicked - a different Death Note fiction

I - Accents

Whenever possible, which meant most of the time, her father took care that their apartment had three bedrooms. Caterina was not close to her mother and only saw her around the house by accident or when one of the two was sick. Also, from time to time, they went to private parties and dined with important people Caterina never really knew. Her father had tried to explain a few things to her, but she clearly stated that the matter did not interest her. Her father simply assumed she was still too young. His patience seemed infinite with her.

That morning, as usual, Caterina ordered breakfast in her room and refused to keep her mother company. She was not 'in the mood' for her mother's cheap talk about celebrities, fashion scandals, or shopping. The girl preferred action over words and was one of the worst clients one could ever see in their nightmares.

After a good night's sleep and a refreshing shower, the girl announced to her mother that she was going out. She wanted to see the people and the shops. Caterina made quite a big deal of fitting into the general picture, while also showing her superior sense of fashion.

"Rosa...?" her mother attempted. "Rosa, please. I wanted Vincent to go with me today. Perhaps we could go together around town?"

"I'm sorry, my mind is still rather tired. I would like to take some time on my own."

The more she grew, the more her precious Rosa reminded Anastasia of her husband... or partner, or financial supporter, because that's how she saw him. They were indeed married for fourteen years, but the woman felt like a bother most of the time. In her own way, she had matured enough to understand the man had most likely never cared for her on a romantic level. It was one reason she had been trying to keep her body young, as a last attempt to fool herself he might have felt anything for her, even if it was just sexual attraction. She wanted to be more than the woman walking beside him on an airport or sitting on his left side at parties.

With a sigh, the woman returned to her bedroom and laid on the king sized bed that she shared with the cool air of the room. She had done this so many times, crying was no longer of use. Sometimes she wondered if she had any tears left. With the passing of time, she found herself terrified to come to the same conclusion more and more often: she was dead to them. Anastasia had died in the eyes of the Dragon the second she gave birth.

Without any other explanations, the teenager put on her mirrored sunglasses and her black backpack. She was already dressed in a dark green blouse and black jeans, paired with a different set of bracelets and black sandals. Anastasia has been trying anything, including buying those silver necklaces with different charms, either on a simple chain or a black string of leather, but it seemed Caterina preferred those she bought herself. This time she had chosen a minimalist inverted triangle with a single circle in the middle fitting perfectly in the v shape of the collar.

For the next four hours, poor old Vincent with his sharp eyes and severe look has been following Caterina from one shop to another. He didn't have to carry more than two light bags though. Caterina was very picky - and very straightforward. Whenever a shop assistant offered to help, she quickly shooed them away with a brutally cold "It's ugly", "It's horrible", "I wouldn't wear that if you paid me," to the point she was driving the shop assistants insane.

"Signorina, may I suggest you take a break for lunch?"

Caterina had started to suspect her butler's respect was fake a little while back, but she had no proof to support her accusations. Of course, a word would have been enough for her father to have gotten rid of him, but according to his values, it was not moral to accuse someone without evidence.

"Yes, I believe we should..." she mumbled after a moment. For whatever reason, she felt strange... as if followed by a very insistent pair of eyes. "Vincent. We will return to the apartment for lunch." All of a sudden, she turned on her heels and almost bumped into another teenager. He seemed roughly the same age, though in more formal attire. He was wearing a brown suit and a white shirt. "Oh-"