She says nothing, and as the dark cloak of my life tightens against my neck, I attempt to distract my mind.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I’m surprised at her question because nobody has ever asked me that before.
“Talk about what?”
I’m stalling for time, and she sounds almost sympathetic as she says in a low voice, “In answer to your question, the last time I laughed was in the convent. It’s a happy place that keeps the world away. Nothing can touch me in there. I am safe and nobody wants to harm me. Life is parked and lived in one glorious existence and it’s no wonder I am in a hurry to get back there.”
She makes a valid point, and I can certainly see the appeal, and yet the thought of it angers me.
“That’s not living.”
“It is to me.”
“So, you would hide rather than experience the beauty of the world? To travel to amazing places, meet someone, have a family, experience that together.”
“Are you saying that is your wish?”
“No, but doesn’t every woman want a child, a family?”
“Of course not.” Her tone is dismissive.
“None of the nuns in the convent wish for that, Joseph. They prefer peace, solitude, and a simple life over the problems the real world throws up daily. There is a lot to be said for that, so please don’t judge me by others’ standards. It’s rather an arrogant view in my opinion.”
I say nothing because she’s not wrong. I am arrogant, and after a few moments she asks tentatively, “What do you have in mind?”
“As in?”
“As in my, um, well, revenge?”
She has returned the conversation to business, which is where I am most comfortable, and I’m grateful for that.
“I believe we have a three-step approach. First, we marry, then you produce a child before we take over the Diamond Dynasty.”
“That could take years.”
“We have until you are twenty-five and so yes, we do have a few years, but a lot can happen in that time and if Morgan has her way, you won’t be alive to celebrate your twenty–fifth birthday.”
I state facts, no matter how shocking, and Tiffany sighs.
“I don’t doubt you, Joseph. I’m fully aware of how her mind works, but why not just, well, get rid of her, and then we can carry on with our lives?”
Her words cause me to laugh out loud, something that doesn’t happen very often, and she snaps, “Do I amuse you, Joseph?”
“Of course. Not many nuns ask the mafia to murder their stepmother.”
To my surprise, she giggles, and it’s a sound that surprises me. There isn’t much laughter in this house, and for some reason, I like it.
“You say mafia.”
Her tone isn’t fearful, merely curious, and I’m surprised at that.
“Would it shock you to learn that is my family business?”
“Not at all.”
She shrugs and turns to me with a curious smile.
