“Enzo’s across the country, and you’re here,” Rio said, pulling a Polaroid from his pocket. The girl in the photo was the prettiest girl I had seen.
“She’s pretty,” I said, reaching for the photo, but he pulled it back.
“Hey, fingers to yourself,cazzo,“ he said with a grin. “She’s mine.”
“You want me to warm her bed while you’re gone?” I laughed. “Or pretend I’m you?”
He smiled. “Nothing like that,” he said. “I just want her safe.”
I chuckled. “I’ll keep her warm.”
He punched my shoulder. “Asshole.”
Then he handed me her photo.
“Promise me, if something goes south with Rocco and the Circle, that you’ll keep her safe.” He smiled faintly. “And promise you’ll leave her a red rose and a Joker card in my memory.”
“I promise,” I said, taking the photo.
“I have to go see what that asshole Hypno needs,” he said, turning toward the staircase.
“Probably another back rub,” I laughed. “Or his shoes polished.”
He chuckled. “Yeah.”
He walked down, one hand raised in a lazy wave goodbye.
As the door clicked shut, I stared at the photo. The girl was beautiful. I wondered when my brother had gotten so damn lucky. I turned the photo over, and on the back, there was a name.
“Chiara,”I whispered, reading it aloud.
I slid the photo into my leather jacket and walked toward thesink and the mirror. The reflection staring back barely looked like me anymore. My hair wasn’t blonde now; it was dark as coal. A scar ran across my right cheek, a smaller one cut through my left eyebrow.
I picked up the white paint beside the sink and started spreading it across my face. Then came the black, shaping the hollow grin of a skull until my reflection disappeared beneath it.
When I finished, I barely recognized myself. That was good. That was the point. I wasn’t supposed to be recognized. I was supposed to be someone else.
In the end, we all wear masks. I just happened to have a painted one.
Present day
I placed a red corset and a ballet skirt on the bed, along with a pair of black and red socks and two red ribbons. Then I wrote a note:Get dressed.
This time, instead of a red rose, I left a white oleander flower.
The flower made me who I am today, and now she has met me. There was no point in pretending Rio was still with us when he wasn’t. Red roses and Joker cards were now replaced with oleander flowers and sweet lies.
Because that’s who I was.
A liar. The worst kind.
And I will make her fall for all the lies.
IX. DOLL
Iopenedmyeyesand found myself chained to an iron bed. My left hand was cuffed, the right one still free. Around me was nothing but darkness, and in front of me, laid neatly on the bed, were a folded red skirt and a corset trimmed with black details and gold buttons. On top of them rested a short branch of white oleander, only two small flowers blooming on it, and a note that read:Get dressed. –O.
My teeth clenched.
