Lia had given me a rundown of what had happened with Enzo's sister, after which Chiara had promptly disappeared. It'sbeen close to two months since anyone has seen her, and that affects me in more ways than one—I can't fulfill my revenge, but I also can't impersonate her to visit Luca.
My poor baby boy. It's been too long since I last saw him, and it's been killing me slowly. I know that at the end of it all we'll be together, and that's the only thing keeping me going. But until then…
I pull up some photos I'd taken of him and smile as I look upon his sweet face.
Soon.
But not soon enough.
"Do you think you could get me a strong radiator in here?" I turn to her, suddenly thinking of something.
"Maybe, why…" Her eyes widen as she realizes my purpose. "Don't tell me you…"
"Please. If you can," I add, batting my lashes softly at her.
"I'll see what I can do," she reluctantly agrees. I nod, giving her my thanks.
Now I just have to figure out how to lure Chiara.
Narrowing my eyes as I sift through ideas, I get out of bed to look through the stuff I'd taken from my father's house. Maybe it was my curiosity, but I wanted to see just what they had traded my life for. I'd taken a few electronics—including a phone—and notebooks. So far, nothing has stuck out, but that's also because the devices are all locked and I've been unsuccessful in figuring out the passwords.
Taking out the phone, I power it on and start thinking of different combinations again. I only have a few tries before it gets locked, and then I have to wait again.
I'd already tried everything birthday-related, and that had been a complete bust. I add in a few more combinations, all of them wrong.
One more try.
It's not as if I have anything to lose at this point. I'll just try again tomorrow.
I think back to all my interactions with my father as I rack my brain for any clues. Then there's also the night I finally killed him, and God… I think I'm sick because I don't think I've ever enjoyed anything as much as smashing my own father to pieces.
There's a certain freedom in bringing down the ax to cut my connections to my past life—literally.
The blood, the way his face had been frozen in terror, his pupils the only part of his body still able to move.
And he'd just watched.
He watched, helpless, as I cut through his skin, as I reached bone only to get a bigger knife and smash it all to pieces. He'd been alive long enough to see his destroyed rib cage, his heart visible through the mess.
And like the sick bitch that I am—because I don't think anyone related tothemis normal in any way—I'd watched, transfixed, as his degenerate heart pumped once, twice, until it didn't have the strength to anymore—the wreckage of his body leading to his downfall.
It had been such an intoxicating experience, almost addictive in a way.
Is it like this for Enzo, too? When he takes a life?
Maybe I'd been too quick to judge him in the past, since from my self-righteous, holier-than-thou seat, he'd looked like the bad guy. But is there really such a thing as abad guy?Isn't it all just perspective?
Maybe now that my hands are a little bloodstained, I can understand his perspective better.
Sometimes you have to take the plunge and risk being the bad guy.
Although I can sympathize with his role better, that doesn't make him any less of a cheating wastrel.
Getting annoyed at the mere thought of Enzo, I return myattention to the phone, entering one date but not expecting it to work.
"What…" my eyes widen in shock as I see the screen light up, the apps loading.
It worked.
