Page 60 of Capuleto

"Hello?"

"Is Mrs. Carmen there?" I asked.

"Yes, that's me. If you're here to sell something, I'm not interested."

"No, I'm not here to sell anything, I'm Adriano's aunt, your grandson. Could you please open the door? We need to talk."

There were several seconds of uncertainty during which I could imagine Mrs. Carmen debating whether or not to open the door. Finally, the iron gate vibrated, granting us permission to enter.

It was a second floor without an elevator. Fortunately, the stairs were neither too long nor too steep.

The wooden handrail needed a coat of varnish, and the paint was peeling rapidly. Yet, it was clean.

Upon reaching the landing, both 2A and 2B had their doors closed. I rang the bell, but it wasn't working, so I started knocking.

The door cracked open, not fully, just a bit, as a chain held it secure. The woman didn't trust that I was who I said I was.

"Who is it?" she insisted, peeking through with one eye. If I had wanted, I could have broken the chain and ended this nonsense. However, I wanted to do things properly.

"My name is Nikita Koroleva, I am the wife of Romeo, the man who adopted your grandson."

"I know who Romeo is, but I don't know who you are. You rang my bell claiming to be Adriano's aunt and you look nothing like her." I had forgotten that she didn't know that her grandson's father was my brother; I should have introduced myself first as Romeo's wife.

"Well, there are certain things I need to tell you. May we come in?" She looked out as far as the chain would allow and eyed Andrey.

"No, absolutely not. I don't know you, I don't know what you want, and that man looks like he wants to rob me."

The door slammed shut. I exhaled sharply. I pounded on the door persistently. The woman responded from the other side.

"Go away or I'll call the police!"

"We just want to talk, Mrs. Carmen."

"And I told you no! Get out!"

"If you don’t let us in willingly, I recommend you step away from the door... One," I said loudly, "two," I continued, and stepped aside to give Andrey room, who was already assessing the quality and thickness of the door, "and..." I didn’t reach three.

My man kicked the door with a forceful blow. The lock couldn't withstand it.

Mrs. Carmen let out a scream inside the apartment. Nobody from 2A came out to help their neighbor. I entered, ignoring the wood splinters.

"You would have done well to open the door," I murmured, seeing her tremble.

At first glance, the apartment wasn't very spacious. It was presumably about eighty square meters, divided into three rooms, a dining room, a kitchen, and a single bathroom.

The walls were covered in faded wallpaper and many pictures of virgins and saints.

"My husband is about to arrive!" she proclaimed as if that would stop us.

"Better, I was looking forward to meeting you both. As I've told you, I come with the intention to talk." "At least, for now," I thought to myself.

The woman sized me up from head to toe. Ana Maria had made a good choice with my outfit. Today I was dressed soberly, in dark gray pleated trousers matched with an oversized blazer, and a white shirt. Combined with my hair pulled back into a low ponytail and the weapon swinging in my hand, I would say it was intimidating.

The woman seemed on the verge of a heart attack. She clutched her chest and was hyperventilating.

"How about we sit down in the dining room? We will be much more comfortable." Carmen took small steps backward without taking her eyes off my hand. Her floral robe swayed from side to side, unlike her eyes, which remained fixed on the gun. "Don't worry, I'll only use it if absolutely necessary."

We arrived in the dining room, which followed the decorative style of the rest of the house-overloaded and excessively pious. A cabinet full of saints and a gigantic painting of a Virgin caught my eye.

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