I should feel afraid, but instead, all I feel is the deep-seated desire to have this done and over with, no matter the outcome. I cannot live in fear anymore, and the sooner this is finished, the sooner I can find peace, whatever that may mean.
"Damn, girl, nice tiara," the young Uber driver says when I climb into the back seat.
"It's a crown, actually," I correct him.
"Oh, shit, my bad. What's the difference?" He pushes a button on his phone and pulls out onto the street.
"A crown is a complete circle, worn to represent power and authority. A tiara is something worn by beauty pageant winners and the occasional bride." Among other things, but I won't bore him with the details, especially when they aren't important.
"I see, I see. That's sick." The guy looks over his shoulder at me. "So, you're like royalty or some shit?"
I force a smile. "Or some shit."
"Cool." He gives his attention to the road, and I'm grateful that he doesn't bother asking any more questions. It's not that I don't mind answering them, but my mind is laser-focused on the task at hand—not fucking this up.
I imagine all the ways I could end Ricardo's life, my thoughts turning into something darker than I ever imagined. What have I become in the last month? The person I am today is nothing like the girl I was then. And I worry that she might be someone I can never return to, a past version of me that died along the way because of the traumas she'd experienced.
Would I even want to be her if I could? That girl was scared and alone, insecure and afraid of letting anyone in. Sure, she was not as cynical and murderous, but that girl was weak, and I never want to be weak ever again.
"Here we are," the Uber driver says as he pulls up in front of Ricardo's mansion. "Damn, you really are royalty, aren't you?" He cranes his head to take a better look at Ricardo's house.
I slip out, not saying another word, and slide my phone out, tipping and rating him before I forget. It would be a shame if this mission failed like the last one and I died; this poor Uber driver thinking he isn't worthy of his gratuity.
Exhaling, I square my shoulders and bring my chin up, summoning every single ounce of bad bitch energy I have within me. "You've got this, Cora, don't back out now."
One step in front of the other, I close the distance between me and my so-called fate. The knocker on the door is hard in my grasp as I slam it against the surface and wait for what's on the other side.
"You're late," Ricardo says the second he opens the door, his usual annoyed expression written all over his disgusting face.
I glance at my wrist even though I'm not wearing a watch. "By a couple of minutes, maybe." I shouldn't be mouthing off to him this soon, but it's hard when I know what I have in store for him.
He grabs my arm and yanks me inside, that shoulder injury of mine flaring up and shooting a hot lace of pain through me. "Get inside before someone sees you." Ricardo pokes his head out, looking one way than the other, and slams the door.
"Is everything okay?" I ask him like I have no idea what could possibly be causing his paranoia to flare up.
"Yes," he spits out. "Everything isfine." Ricardo's cold gaze trails over my body. "And it will be better soon enough." He narrows his focus on my head. "What on earth are you wearing?" He licks his lips. "Never mind that. Finally, you're all mine. I can't wait to have my way with you."
I do my best to not let his remarks bother me. "Where should we get started?" I probably never should have worn this gaudy thing that Miller got me to Ricardo's house, but it surprisingly does make me feel a hell of a lot more powerful, and knowing Miller, he probably planted a camera on it to get a front-row seat to the action. Miller is generous, that's for sure, but he's calculated, too. Him putting that tracker in each of the purses he bought me proof of that.
Ricardo latches onto my hand and takes off down the hall. "How about the room we've shared so many memories in?"
I go along with him, my feet stumbling underneath me as he pulls me aggressively, the plan in place jumbling around in my head and growing fuzzy. What if I get this wrong? What if I can't pull it off? What if Ricardo is the one who comes out on top and succeeds in taking my body against my will?
Suddenly, all that confidence I once felt is left on the front doorstep of Ricardo's mansion.
He releases me with a push, tossing me into the room he jerked off to me, not only once, but twice. The same one where he beat his daughter to her near death, and the place Miller shot him. I recall each of those instances and channel the rage I felt at being so fucking helpless.
Never again, I remind myself.
I plaster on a seductive grin and turn toward Ricardo, growing bold and planting my hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you have a seat and allow me?"
He eyes me carefully and after I'm convinced he's not going to agree, he does, settling into the oversized chair he pleasured himself in.
I set my clutch on the table, walking toward him, one foot in front of the other. Once I reach him, I turn around, lowering my body onto his lap and grind my ass into his crotch. I nearly vomit but continue, the only way out of this mess being through.
Bending at the hip, I succumb to his grimy hands on my waist as he groans.
"Oh, yeah, pet, this is what I'm talking about. I knew you'd give in to me and give me what I want."
