Page 30 of Spice and Revenge

As the conversation continues, I’m taken back to the first time I saw Leo. I haven’t forgotten how he thrust into the maid from behind, his hips rocking in a pleasant rhythm, and the way she moaned in pleasure. It’s embarrassing, the way I got aroused just from watching them, watching the way he fucked her. And when his eyes met mine, full of lust and desire, it made me think of other things, things like his hands running down my body, his dick slipping in and out of me.

Shit!I can’t believe I’m getting wet right now.

Exhaling a shaky breath, I add the sliced tomatoes to the pot, a pinch of salt, a sprinkle of red pepper flakes, and a handful of pitted olives.

“I would have applied to be recruited if I had the looks,” Hilda muses, making Blanco burst out in laughter.

“Sorry, Hilda. Even if you had the looks, you still wouldn’t get in,” he snorts.

Everyone except Hilda laughs. Even I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips. “Don’t be like that, Blanco,” I say. “Hilda is pretty.”

“Thank you, Lorena. You are my only friend in this house…” Hilda starts to say, but Blanco interrupts her.

“That’s exactly my point. It’s not just about looks. You have to own the look, you have to be fucking sexy, you have to act and not just look the part,” he tells a red-faced Hilda.

“Like Lorena,” Josie pipes in.

I erupt into a fit of coughs. “What?”

“Exactly,” Blanco agrees with a smile. “In fact, I think you should sign up…”

“Hell no,” I chuckle, brushing him off.

I turn my attention back to the simmering sauce and the flavors melding together. I do a taste test. Nodding in approval, I turn to the tenderized octopus. Hilda comes to stand beside me, and together, we place each cut tentacle into the simmering sauce, ensuring they are fully engulfed in the thickening liquid. When the octopus is fully immersed, I place the lid on top of the pot.

While the octopus slowly cooks, Josie begins to prepare spaghetti. In a separate pot of boiling water, she cooks the raw dough strands, allowing each strand to retain its firmness. Once drained, she pours the now ready spaghetti into a separate pot of simmering sauce.

In a few minutes, the meal is done. With great care and attention to detail, I plate the food. The spaghetti forms a bed for the tender octopus. I sprinkle some freshly chopped parsley to add vibrancy, with a drizzle of olive oil for a final touch.

I stay behind in the kitchen, eating my own food as the Vitale are served. After lunch, I clean up before going up to my room.

Tiredness overtakes my features as I enter the bathroom to take a shower. I still have three hours before I have to start making dinner, so I decide to take a nap. With the events of the past few days, a midday nap is highly needed.

I distract myself by humming a song so that I won’t think about Josie’s absurd suggestion.

Me? Sign up to be a performer in theSinz Swin? I snort inwardly.

I refuse to think about how my body seems to agree with the idea. I have had sex, but I’m quite innocent when it comes to unconventional sexual acts.

I wrap my body in a fluffy towel before stepping out of the bathroom. Then, I change into a baggy T-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts. A deep sigh escapes my lips as I collapse onto my bed.

My lack of sleep from last night and all the work I’ve done today hits me, and in no time, my eyes begin to drift shut.

********

There is blood everywhere.

Blood on my trembling hands, soaking my clothes, seeping into the cracks on the concrete floor. The smell of iron and sweat lingers in the air around me. My lungs are burning from lack of oxygen, and I feel lightheaded as though I will die anytime soon.

My parents are already dead. I look at their bodies again, lying lifeless on the ground, with holes in their heads. A pool of bloodhas formed beneath them, the same blood that slowly trails towards me and my sister, the same blood that stains my blue jeans, turning them into a dark grey color.

I remain silent, lying silently beside my parent’s bodies. Isabella, my sister, trembles beside me, her sobs echoing in the suffocating silence. I stare at the man who just shot my parents, as he approaches us with a teenage boy. Although I can’t really see their faces, I watch their legs come into my line of view.

“Here you go, son,” the older man's voice is cold as he passes the gun to his young companion. The room is dark. I can’t look at them properly because they think I’m dead.

“The younger girl is dead, I saved the last kill for you,” the man's words are like ice, sending shivers down my spine.

Isabella whimpers beside me. I shut my eyes tightly, wishing I could disappear, wishing they could kill me too.

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