“And the girl?”
“My worry, pretty girl,” I said, placing my palm against her bearded jaw as I stood. I walked past her. “Check how much we earned this week, and see how much we need to promote the next act in three weeks.”
“Will do, pretty boy,” she said with a wink, slipping into my chair as I left.
I pulled the curtain and walked outside.
The sun was shining bright for Autumn. I could almost say itwas the end of summer, but that had already passed a month ago. The weather in Italy was always blessed with sunshine. We could forever be thankful for that, but the nights were foggy and cold, perfect for getting lost.
I walked between the tents toward the house, watching the men already preparing for tonight. Today was the last day we would be open until next month, and some were already packing up.
Now that we had no train, and no boat, we had to settle here for three weeks. No performances anywhere else.
The house was just five minutes from the tents through a wooden path that cut through the trees. It always amazed me how small this town was. You could walk from one edge to the other in an hour or two. Compared to Rome, it was the size of a pocket. And in the past year, I have learned every corner of it.
As I approached the house, two clowns sat in front, smoking. When I nodded, one of them said, “She’s in the attic.”
I gave them a short wink and went inside. I opened the door and climbed the stairs.
A lot had changed, mostly the fact that the freaks now lived on the third floor, and the attic was all mine. The clowns shared a floor with the performers, Rocco’s office was now mine, and everything below stayed the same.
I reached the attic door. Wooden, with a dark brown frame. I pulled the key from my pocket and unlocked it. Inside, I could already hear the faint rattle of chains above.
She was there. Doll. On my bed. Chained, still asleep.
I walked closer, watching her. She wore jeans and a black top. Every part of me wanted to strip it away and see what was underneath, but I knew it wasn’t the time for that. Not yet.
I sat on the edge of the bed, reached out, and brushed a strand of hair off her forehead where it had fallen across her eyes.
She was so damn beautiful. Now I understood why my brother had been obsessed with her. But he lost that chance. Now it was mine.
I didn’t know if she was a witch or if she had cast some spell on me. Even when I told myself I didn’t give a damn, she was still crawling under my skin. And I didn’t like it.
But that’s how it happens. Whether you want it or not, someone can slip inside you, deep beneath the surface, until one day, they become a part of you.
A year earlier
I sat down in the attic, this time by myself.
My wounds had finally healed, so I could start putting paint on my face and start performing. Rio had been slowly introducing me to more and more people who worked here, and little by little, I was starting to feel a sense of purpose again.
A soft knock came at the door, and before I could even say “It’sopen,“ Rio was already walking in.
“Hey,scar face,“ he laughed. “You finally washed up.” He tossed me a piece of bread as he spoke.
I raised a brow, looking at him. “I know I’m better looking than you.”
“Keep telling that to yourself,” he said.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“I need a favor,” he replied. “Rocco has this plan, but I’ve got a bad feeling about it.”
“You want me to zap him?” I asked, eyes widening.
“No,” he laughed. “I want you to keep an eye on someone.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a girl, isn’t it? Why can’t Enzo do it?”
