I wake up at five in the morning without having set the alarm. Despite everything that has happened, this particular habit has survived. I put on my running shoes and change into a sports bra and shorts before leaving the house with only my keys. I run the path along the beach, but stop after five kilometers when I reach the hill, my benchmark. The hill tells me to turn around, it tells me that I am not capable of going further and climbing it. It's too steep, made of rocks and frail soil.
It makes me feel small, insignificant. I am grateful to it because as I climb, I am neither its enemy, nor its friend. It doesn't fear me in the same way I dread it. Here, I am not a monster; the roles have switched. Here, I am the lover and the beggar, the grateful and the frightened. The mountain owes me nothing. The rock under my feet is still, the wind a snake nagging and willing me to free myself of all the weight resting imbalanced on my shoulders. I reach the top and realize that this hill, this mountain, was not the challenge I had expected it to be. The real monster was my fear, which had fooled me into believing that this hill was unattainable, unconquerable.
I realize that my fear has toyed with me before. Valentino is a hill. The Locals are not God, ruling over men from the sky. Giovanni was not a monster, he was a man, a hungry and pained man. And me. I am a queen, I am a king, I am an angry woman, and I am capable of doing horrible things. If I can run this hill, I can conquer the mountain.
I run back home knowing what I am to do. Everything must come to an end. At home I shower and then change into a pair of tight black jeans and a white t-shirt. The color accentuates the intense darkness of my hair. Red lipstick and two coats of mascara is all I need.
"Where are you going?" Kiara asks, entering the bathroom.
"Did I wake you up?" I meet her eyes through the mirror while putting away the mascara. She shakes her head.
"I like the lipstick." She says, smiling lazily behind me.
"It was my mother's"
"It suits you. Hot date at eight in the morning?" I laugh at the thought, but decide not to disagree.
"Something like that" I reply, leaving it at that. I put the house and car keys in my pocket and walk out of the room.
"Adelaide!" my dad calls from the kitchen. I spin around, to see he is looking everywhere for something.
"Yes?"
"Have you seen the car keys?" he asks me, nervously. I shake my head.
"No, sorry" I tell him.
"Oh, okay. And who is the girl sleeping in your bedroom?" he ask trying to appear casual, pointing to Kiara who is leaning against the doorframe watching our encounter.
"She needs a place to crash for a while..." I look at him pointedly, trying to show him this is a difficult situation and not to question it further. He seems to understand and nods.
"That was kind of you to offer her your room. Your mom would have been proud." My father looks at me with pride and it makes painful memories rise to the surface. I leave the house without a second glance, unable to look him in the face after all the harm I have caused. I run down the stairs, get into the car, and drive off to Valentino's house.
I ring the bell, finding that it is surprisingly locked. Lucio opens the door for me.
"Good morning, Miss" he greets me, wearing a black suit and a smile.
"Lucio, you have to stop calling me "Miss", the name is Ana." I inform him, having had enough of the title.
"Yes, Ana." I nod appreciatively and step inside
"He is in his office" I thank Lucio for the information and head to the office. Valentino is sitting casually at his desk, staring at a piece of paper. When he sees me, he doesn't bother to stand up or greet me. He waits for me to make the first move, raking my body with his eyes. His black hair is wet and his green eyes sparkle like gems in the sea.
"What did you have to talk to me about?" I ask him, taking a seat on his red couch.
"Yesterday you were able to go above and beyond to get the job done. I wanted to tell you I am impressed." I raise an eyebrow. Impressed? He was horrified.
"It wasn't a job. Baking bread is a job. Sowing shoes is a job. Killing Giovanni was a civil service" which I very much enjoyed doing. Valentino laughs, but I don't.
"Well, now that he is out of the picture, I was wondering if you would like to take a position as an underboss within the Locals." Now it is my turn to laugh, and boy do I laugh. He kills my mom, possibly my two best friends, and now that I have helped him eliminate an enemy he fooled me into hating, he wants me to work for him? How naive does he think I am? He is annoyed, but I don't care. I stop laughing, and look at him with absolute seriousness. The sudden change in moods chills the room.
"Who left that note in Tommaso's locker the day he died?" Valentino fixes me with a curious expression.
"Who do you think?" I look at him in disbelief.
"I think that Giovanni was telling the truth. I think he had nothing to do with the murder of my two best friends. I think you let me believe it was Giovanni so that I would help you get to him. You used me to eliminate the opposition. You played me. And you won." I answer his question, disappointed in myself. Why hadn't I realized it before now?
"Yes, I did. But I didn't do it so that you would help me, I did it so that you could become the person you are today." Ha! My hands ball into fists. How dare he say he did it for me!
"I am a murderer!"
"And before I met you, you were nothing at all! I put a knife in you hand--"
"I took that paper cutter from your desk to protect myself" I correct him, standing up to face him. He stands, coming around his desk ready to fight me.
"And I put you in front of a line of men so that you could use it to take your revenge" he rebutteles.
"And why did you kill my friends? What did they do to deserve death?" I take a step forward, ready to harm him, ready to scar him.
"When you choose to betray me, you signed their fate. I decided that I would rather see you broken then watch you walk away from me holding my enemy's hand." I bite my tongue and wish that I had a knife in my hand.
"Would you rather see me dead?"
"Yes" he answers the way I expected him to answer.
"So, what now?"
"Now you come work for me, with me"
"Why would I want to do that?"
"Because you love me." A tear falls from my cheek, but I don't wipe it away. What a mess. When his lips lower down to mine, I kiss him back. My body betrays me and I wrap my arms securely around his neck. He lifts me up so that I have no choice but to wrap my legs around his hips. I surrender control and enjoy the feeling of his warm lips on my neck, my breasts, everywhere. He lifts my shirt, exposing my black bra and then undoes the button on my jeans. Sitting me down on his desk, he slides my pants off, down to my ankles. I kick my shoes off and watch him undress in front of me. Once we are both naked and panting, he takes me because I am his. I close my eyes and allow myself to accept what is truly happening. What will keep happening. I arch my back, giving him access to my breasts. His movements become rapid and he grips the back of my thighs with strength. We come together but there is nothing romantic about it. Behind our act there is desperation, need, and lust.
He carries me into his bedroom and we lay in each other's arms.
"You asked me before how I got the scar." He breaks the silence. When I look at him, he is looking at the dark ceiling, lost in a sea of thought. I don't interrupt him. "My father gave it to me. I was sixteen years old and I had just asked him if he knew where my mother had gone. It was the day she left us." I stay quiet, listening to the emotions pouring out of him. "He took a key, one that looks much like yours, small and golden, and dragged it across my face. He pinned me to the floor and carved it into me" frozen in place I can barely breathe. I think this is the first time he has ever told someone that story.
"What did you do?"
"The day I came back from the hospital I killed him. Two years passed before I took his place on the throne." Valentino answers, turning to face me. His father had been the Boss, and now he was.
"Did you ever find out what happened to your mom?" I run my fingers through his hair, recalling how it felt to discover my mother had been murdered, recalling how it felt to know someone you loved had left you forever.
"No, I didn't."