Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“T-t-to who?”
“Some stable that needed another horse. She’ll be fine there.” He picked up the fruit and turned around to put it away.
I looked at the pictures of Aanya again until tears covered my vision. He’d sold my Aanya, my comfort. I’d been closer to her than I was to him. Aanya knew all of my secrets. She’d witnessed all my laughter and tears. I set my hand over her face like I always did, and a sob raked through me before I could stop it.
“Why?” I wailed. “Why?”
“Because, Lenora, you need to be taught a lesson.” He crossed his arms.
I wiped my tears, but a new wave of them came. “I said I was sorry.”
“You did, and I believe you. I also believe that you didn’t snoop through my USB drive, and I appreciate you being honest about it,” he said. “You can’t take Aanya with you to Italy. She’s happy in her new home. You should be happy too.”
I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I made myself go through the motions anyway — I stood up, threw away what was left on my plate, cleaned the plate and fork, and grabbed the water.
“I’m going to sleep,” I said, keeping my back to him. My voice was hoarse, and I wasn’t sure he could hear me, but I didn’t care. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Principessa.”
I flinched. He had no right to call me that anymore, but I couldn’t tell him that, so I pulled my bag into my room, set it down, and locked the door behind me. I cried until I fell asleep.
34
ROCCO
I fiddled with the pen on my desk before I threw it against the wall with a scream. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, and I was already losing it. I’d gotten word that she was at the spa today, and Rosie had been texting me updates. I didn’t respond but I kept reading them, wondering why I’d asked her to torture me like this.
Rosie: it looks like she got no sleep
Rosie: she doesn’t want to eat anything
Rosie: she keeps crying randomly and won’t tell us why
Rosie: idk what that motherfucker did but she’s not well
I gripped my phone and contemplated throwing it next. I set it down carefully instead. The spa they were in wasn’t far from Scarab. I could probably get there in ten minutes, tops. I hadn’t figured out how to do that without Giuseppe’s guards seeing me. I needed more time to think about it, but I had none. They’d be there until five o’clock, and it was already one. I searched for the spa and looked at the businesses on either side: a ballet studio to the right and a yoga studio to the left. I called Rosie.
“Who’s driving you today?” I asked.
“Marco and Nico, but Giuseppe’s men are all over them,” she whispered. “They can’t help.”
“Fuck.” I let out a breath. “Do you know anyone in Madame Rose’s Ballet?”
“Hmm. . .shit, I’d have to think about it,” she said. “Let me ask Cat.” She asked and responded, “Yeah, we know someone.”
“I need to see Lenora, and this would be the only way.”
“Oookay, what way is that exactly?”
“Just. . .don’t worry about the plan. I need whoever your contact is to meet me a few blocks away.”
“My contact?” Rosie laughed. “Aye, aye, sir.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re such a pain in the ass. Can you do this or not?”
“Yep. We’re already on it,” she said. “See? Aren’t you glad we’re on your team?”
I hung up on her.
Rosie: Lexington and East 42 in 30min
Me: thanks
Their contact was a tall, redheaded gay man named Jack. During our three-block walk, he “schooled me” on the Swiftie thing and told me I was “missing out” for not knowing who Olivia Rodrigo was. He was entertaining. I’d give him that. When we were near the spa, I put a ballcap on.
“Oh, is this a covert mission?” he asked.
“It is, actually.”
“Should I have worn a costume?”
He was wearing what looked to me like a Popeye the Sailor Man costume. I laughed. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
He grinned. “I just finished a performance for a field trip. This was kind of a rush job.”
“Well, I appreciate you helping me out,” I said as we crossed the street. “You wouldn’t happen to share a door with the spa?”
“Not a door, per se, but we both have a second story. It’s not big enough to do anything with it, so we use it for storage. There’s a door that connects, but it’s like really small.” He gave me a once-over when we got to the opposite corner. “There’s no way you’d fit. It’s fit for a second grader, that small.”
“Why have a door at all?” I shook my head. Some things in this city made no fucking sense.