“DAMIEN CARLOS ZELINSKI!”she bellowed. “Open this GODDAMN door before I break it down with my fists!”
The door didn’t open.
“Fucking coward,” Anamária said, and swiped the card. The door unlocked. “Wait here, Adonis,” she said. “I don’t want you to see this.”
Adonis shook his head and pushed into the room after Anamária. Heabsolutelywanted to see this. He also thought it might be beneficial for there to be a witness, just in case his mother actually murdered Damien, because then Adonis would deny it in any court that interrogated him.
No, your honor. Damien slipped and fell! We have no idea how he ended up impaled on a curling iron! Accidents happen, don’t they?
Damien was cowering in the far corner of the room, trying to wrap himself in one of the hotel curtains.
“You motherfucking piece of danglingass shit,” Anamária hissed, stalking across the room straight to the tangle of curtains.
Adonis gaped.
“I—” Damien began.
“Shut thehellup,” Anamária growled. She snatched him from the curtains by the collar of his Gucci turtle neck and threw him against the elegant brocade wallpaper of the hotel.
Damien yelped in pain.
“You’re lucky I no longer have diplomatic immunity in the European Union,” Anamária hissed.
Diplomatic immunity? Adonis wondered. What the fuck?
“Because if I did,” Anamária continued, “I would throw you out this window right now, and if the fall didn’t kill you, I’d steal a taxi and drive repeatedly over your sorry, shattered body until you were so dead that when they tried to do an autopsy, they’d have to use a spoon to get you off the street.”
Damien was white in the face.
“I willruinyou,” Anamária said. “You willneverwork in the world of figure skating again. Your husband willnevershow another piece of art in even the dingiest gallery. Hell, I might even get your American passport revoked. I won’t take you to court, but I’ll take you to the fucking court of goddamn public opinion, and I willruethe day you thought aboutevertaking advantage of my son.”
Damien spluttered. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“I recorded it,” Adonis said quietly. “The whole thing. Would you like me to play it back for you?” He held up his phone.
Damien glared at him, and then at Anamária. “Would you please take your hand off my neck?”
“Oh,nowyou care about respecting physical boundaries?” Adonis snapped. He stepped forward. Seeing his mother go scorched-Earth on Damien had given him the spark he needed. “You are a sad, sorry man, Damien. You hang younger men like trophies on your arm because you never thought you were cute enough or successful enough on your own. No matterhow manyyounger guys you show off or ‘train,’ you’ll never make up for your own inadequacy. You thought I needed you to succeed at the Olympics? Fuck you, actually. I did my own routine for my free skate, without a single fucking piece of input from you, and guess what?” He leaned in close, holding up the results on his phone. “I got fucking silver medal.”
Anamária released Damien, who wheezed for breath and clutched his neck. “You did?” she screeched.
Adonis felt like sobbing. “I did!”
“Holyshit!” Anamária said.
“Holy shit!” Adonis repeated.
“Can I go?” Damien said.
“Fuckallthe way off,” Anamária said.
——
After their vigilante escapade, Adonis and his mother went to an elegant café three blocks from Damien’s hotel, where he ordered an espresso, and she rolled her eyes and ordered a bottle of red for them to share.
“I owe you several apologies,” Anamária said when the waiter brought them the wine.
“Damien said that you blackmailed HPD to get me onto the Olympic team,” Adonis said in answer.
