Page 31 of Something Blue

So now it’s time for me to give her no choice.

I always get what I want. She is going to find out soon.

A girl like her is about to find out she doesn’t get to say no to a man like me.

When I get home, I head straight into the office across the hall from my bedroom.

Pulling my laptop open I type in an email address.

Attaching three videos and four very clear images I leave the subject line blank and hit send. The same email gets sent to two other address.

Now I have to sit back and wait.

My email is heavily encrypted.

They won’t know who the source is - nor will they care. The photos are genuine, so is the video. I’ve been holding onto them for a long time waiting for a moment like this when they would come in useful.

Her father is going to be under a lot of pressure when the stories come out. Either tonight or tomorrow. I’m sure they will all scramble to be the first one to release the story - the truth is going to hit the media stands and his campaign will start to crumble.

Neve needs me more than she knows - but if I have to put some effort in to prove that to her - so be it.

The next morning the internet is absolute chaos. Every page of every social media site is plastered with images of her father. In some they have blurred his face out, but it’s still so clearly him. The same videos play on repeat across the wild web.

Franco Greco with hookers, doing blow, partying up a storm. In one photo he’s so fucking high I don’t think he knows his own name. His eyes practically rolling into the back of his own skull while a hooker is between his legs.

I smirk at the mayhem I’ve created.

And over the next few days I watch his campaign numbers plummet.

It’s interesting to hear how his die-hard supporters try to justify his discrepancy.He’s only human. We all deserve to let loose some times -blah blah blah.

Their arguments make no difference.

His campaign is fucked and the strained faces of his family members and campaign managers as they try to scrape whatever dignity the man still has from off the floor - it’s amusing. His son, the one who's still alive, is hustling to help his father - but it’s too late.

His time is up.

I push away from my laptop where I’ve been catching up on the latest news and numbers. I should get ready. It’s getting late and I don’t want to miss anything.

Tonight, I have a family dinner at Dalila’s house, and I hope to get some inside information on how Neve is handling all of this. I need to remain tactful in my questions because Dalila is already pissed off at me every time I even mention her friend’s name.

Apart from getting an update on Neve, I don’t want to go to the dinner. I’m not in the mood to sitaround talking about their lives and how great everyone is. It’s boring.

Except, when I arrive at my sisters place and spot Neve standing outside on the patio holding a gin in her hand and talking to Masaccio - the entire night shifts.

My eyes take in the sight of her, the long blue dress she’s wearing, how it dips low over her back showing off the delicate curve of her spine. Her hair is pinned up in a messy bun with loose waves drifting around her face. The fabric of her dress and those strands of hair are dancing on a gentle breeze.

Now I want nothing more than to be here.

In fact - I wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else on this entire fucking planet.

“Hi, Cels.” Dalila says cheerfully when I walk past her in the living room.

“Hi.” I mutter without looking at her, making a straight line towards Neve.

“Hey, that’s rude.” Dalila huffs. I catch myself quickly, realizing I need to be a lot more subtle when Dalila is around, I walk over to her and hugher tightly. “Sorry. My head is all fuzzy today. I’ve been working nonstop and I’m dying for a drink.”

Dalila smirks. “Alright, fine, I’ll forgive you this time.” She hugs me back. “Can I make you a drink, I’m about to get one for Nevio.”

---