Page 48 of Dreadful
“Queen of Night tulips,” I finish. “They were my aunt’s favorite.”
And Tallie’s.
A smile threatens my lips, just as a pang of guilt hits my chest.
Tulips used to only remind me of the girl and the night I failed her. Now Tallie fills my mind. My nights have been the same. Before I met Tallie, I was plagued with nightmares. The girl’s screams and the ancestors of the dogs in this room always played a key role in my torment.
Yet for the past week, Tallie has been featured in every dream, and they’re sure as fuck not nightmares. I’ve found I’m still just as trapped, unable to wake myself. But I’d stay wrapped up in Tallie forever if I could.
“Severino is correct. Under my tutelage, the old gardener could grow anything in our greenhouse, no matter the season. We even dabbled a little in cross-pollination with the foxglove. I didn’t realize he had an interest in tulips, though. They haven’t grown in our greenhouse for years.”
Our.As if my mother has been at Claudio’s side all along and my father and aunt never existed. The insinuation rankles.
“Not sinceziaAntonella passed, right,zio?” I remind them both.
Riling the man up has always been my favorite pastime, and mentioning his late wife in front of him and my mother is a two-for-one special. His face reddens like a tomato, right on cue.
He flings another piece of meat, closer to the corner of the room this time. The dogs bound after it, champing at the bit and tearing into their brothers to get there first. One of them bumps into the maid, and her cry of fear shocks through me like a lightning bolt. I bang my fist on the table, silencing the room instantly.
“Get those fucking dogs out of here, Claudio. I’ve told you time and again not to bring them around me.”
He grins, and I know I’ve played into one of his tricks. As much as I like to get a rise out of him, he’s just as good, if not better, at doing the same with me. But my outburst wasn’t for my benefit this time. When the young woman slumps against the wall with relief, I don’t give a shit if Claudio feels like he’s one-upped me.
“Very well, then.Uscite,” Claudio commands in Italian, and they obey, immediately exiting through the kitchen door. “I only need one guard dog in the room, anyway, don’t I, Severino?”
I blank my expression, refusing to dignify his barb with a response. On the inside, though, I’m exhausted as fuck. Claudio is tireless in his mind games.
At any moment, he could technically kill me for some minor infraction. According to him, my mother is the only reason I’m still alive, but I suspect there’s more to it than that. He needs me for a reason, and for the life of me I can’t figure out what that is.
My only explanation is that he knows there are those who are loyal to me and me alone. If I were to take out the boss without proof that he poisoned my father, my uncle’s followers would put a bullet in my head. Likewise, if Claudio kills me without cause, my own men will do the same. The Family would be in chaos, something no one wants.
A throat clears, but I don’t look away from my enemy as Dickie speaks.
“Trudy, I’m sorry, you said your old gardener? Was that the one I knew? I thought the Vincellis liked to keep their help for life. What on earth did he do that made you fire him, if I may ask?”
“Yes, you’re thinking of the right one. I’m afraid he passed tragically earlier this week.”
Good fucking riddance.
I hated the gardener. He was the reason the dogs were alerted when the girl and I tried to escape. I don’t know what the fuck he was doing out and about that night, especially since he was injured earlier in the day. If he hadn’t been there, the girl might’ve lived. I’m glad he’s gone, but I would’ve loved to use my own blade on thebastardo.
“Tragically, you say?” Dickie pries before sipping his wine.
“Yes, he had a terrible accident in the garden while we were out of town.”
Her voice is light, as if she’s announced that the gardener was down with a cold. But her words freeze the blood in my veins.
First the gardener, then the driver. I would have extracted possible blackmail material about Claudio from both of them if I’d had the chance. The driver certainly had something that the attacker last night wanted to know. Instead, it’s a frustrating loss of information, and I don’t even know who’s behind it all.
Che cazzo! What the fuck is going on?
“An accident? Again?” Dickielaughs. I couldn’t give a fuck that the gardener died, but the judge didn’t have a grudge like I do, and his callous reaction makes my skin crawl. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Clumsy oaf, wasn’t he? I seem to recall that he had a run-in with the garden shears on one of my visits.”
My fork scratches against my plate.
Everyone grimaces, and my mother tsks. “Severino, please, this is Bernardaud China from our wedding.”
“Apologies, Gertrude.” I steeple my fingers in front of my face to hide the scowl I’ve let slip through my defenses. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t that years ago, Dickie?”
