The man has become insatiable, and I wonder at the sudden change. Has Jimmy’s attempt on my life rattled him enough that he’s forgiven me? Or is it because he’s seen what Christian did to me? I try not to be suspicious of the sudden one-eighty he’s pulling, but the part of me that knows things are too good to be true can’t help but linger in the back of my mind.
I shove those thoughts away as I stare at the brilliant white of the bedroom door before me.
Her room.
Jesus, I can’t believe I’m going to do this. I don’t want to, but for once, the penthouse is completely empty. Even Mia is out for the day. Matthias and his men are up in their formal offices, securing everything we need for the gala tonight.
Meanwhile, I am trying to face my demons.
Seeing as how I’ve been standing outside her door for the past hour, it isn’t going well. I feel like David facing Goliath, except the door in front of me is much more daunting than a biblical giant.
It’s more like Hydra from the Legend of Hercules. Each time I convince myself to open her door, another piece of guilt or doubt shoves itself forward, preventing me from grasping the handle.
I’ve tried to call Kenzi.
No answer.
I’m starting to worry. She never goes this long without trying to contact us. It is the reason I am standing here, heart racing, body shaking, hands trembling on the golden doorknob of regret. If anyone knew what has been going on with Kenzi, it was Libby. The two shared everything.
Taking a long, slow breath, I turn the knob and swing the door open.
The scent of her gentle perfume washes over me, the tears burning at the back of my eyes. I got her and Kenzi that perfume one year for Christmas. Dante had generously lent his credit card to me, telling me to buy them whatever I wanted.
The unique and enchanting design is what caught my attention originally. I wasn’t looking for perfume, but one of the ads from the site I was surfing caught my attention. It was a limited-edition bottle created by Viktor & Rolph, one of the top perfume designers in the world. The dark rose quartz bottle was contained in a luxuriously crafted thorn case, hand numbered in rose gold. Varied flowers soldered to the top elegantly surrounded the bottle’s lid.
There were a total of only fifteen of those bottles in existence, and we each had one. I was immediately attracted to the olfactory notes of rose, orchid, and jasmine. I had Dante personally contact the business to have each of the scentsmildly modified so that one particular scent stood out with each individual bottle.
For Libby, it was orchid. Gentle, elegant, and sweet but easily wilted if it isn’t looked after properly. Exactly like my sweet sister.
Kenzi’s bottle held stronger notes of the centifolia rose, a complex hybrid that is often referred to as the cabbage rose for how the flower resembles a cabbage head. The scent is sweet, but the rose bush itself is strong and resilient. A perfect homage to my stubborn sister.
Then there was my bottle, jasmine. The scent that Matthias confesses drives him crazy. Jasmine is a diverse plant with subtle notes. It is deceptive, with its pretty white petals and fruity scent. Jasmine grows differently depending on its region and harvest. Some forms of jasmine are deciduous, while others are an evergreen. It can be a shrub or even a climbing vine.
The most important thing is that, just like the cabbage rose, it often refuses to die. Some countries even consider it an invasive species.
Each individual perfume scent represented us as an individual, but the uniformity of the bottle represented us as a united front. Sisters who always had each other’s backs.
Except I haven’t.
I let Christian take Libby from our lives. I was powerless to stop him, and I never want to feel like that again.
Holding back the flow of tears, I close the door behind me with a gentle click before taking a deep breath and walking farther into the room. Everything is exactly as she left it.
Her clothes are strewn over one of the chairs near the closet, laptop closed on the edge of her bed next to a bag of Cheetos. Kendra never allowed the twins to eat junk food, and Vas had been more than happy to introduce her to his favorite snacks.
Vas.
Jesus. I have been so caught up in ignoring my own grief and pain that I haven’t even thought of his. Haven’t thought about how it must hurt him not entering her room and being able to smell her perfume one last time.
He waited for me. He knew I needed this.
Libby loved Vas in her own special way. We might not have gone to an all-girls school, but that doesn’t mean we weren’t kept segregated whenever possible. Every boy knew who Elias was and what would happen if he tried to make a move on one of his daughters.
Steadying my breathing, I tip up the edge of the mattress at the head of the bed, my hand searching underneath.
Bingo.
I grasp onto the small object and pull, yanking it free from its hiding spot. Not that it is much of one. Libby has been hiding her diary in the exact same spot since she learned how to keep one.
