Page 26 of Fall
Will we all survive this disaster?
Because that’s what it is. A fucking tragedy.
It took all my will not to stab my fork into the tabletop beside my plate as I sat beside Father at the dinner table, listening to him give his speech about the woman I'm becoming and the life in store for us. It's all a fucking lie,and every single one of the guests ate it up like the eight-course meal the caterers served. As if his words were good, and true, and full of hope.
After his speech, I was hoping he would excuse himself for a while. That would’ve at least given me a minute alone with him.
That would've given me an opening, a reason to burst into his office, or bedroom, or smoking room, and fire offone question after the other. I'm not supposed to know, but I deserve to. Except it's better for everyone if I leave things as is, and act like I have no clue what's going on until Father chooses to tell me. He fucking hates leaks.
There’s only one upside of our lives being turned upside down because of this family drama with the big boss. After they sing happy birthday to me, raise theirglasses in a toast, and have a taste of the birthday cake, Father cuts the evening short and wraps up the party early. There’s no opening of presents, no dancing, no extended drinking, no live bands or any milling around tonight.
After the last guest leaves, I return to my room and change out of my ball gown into a strappy camisole, a black zippered hoodie, and matching sweatpants. I tryto decide what I'll take with me but fail miserably. How am I supposed to pack my entire life into a few suitcases? How am I supposed to choose?
I wait up in my room for at least a couple of hours, and even then, no one comes to enlighten me on where things stand.
Not Nonna.
Not Father.
Not Antonio.
When midnight rolls around, I slip on a pair of canvas sneakersand walk to my bedroom door.
I’m sure I’m letting my poor judgment get the better of me, but right now, I don’t care.
“We’re going for a walk,” I announce to Vinny as he guards my door from the hallway. “Where to?” he asks.
“Don’t ask questions you shouldn’t know the answer to before they happen,” I say in a clipped tone without looking back at him.
Vinny does whathe’s supposed to, following me. As we reach the side entrance that leads to the building now used as the guards’ sleeping quarters, he takes a couple of quick steps and moves ahead of me to block my path.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks.
“I’m talking a walk,” I tell him.
“You’re not supposed to be there.”
“It’s a long walk,” I offer.
"Where to?" Histone is measured, but I see his objection in his green eyes as he tries to stop me with a hard stare. I can shoot him down by pulling rank and reminding him of his place, but I know he means well. As we stand there, facing off, giving each other a nonverbal challenge, I notice he's still in the suit he wore to the party, which means he hasn't been relieved for the evening yet.
I narrowmy eyes at him. “I told you I’m going for a long walk.”
“I’m not stupid,” he grunts, folding his big arms across his chest.
“Never said you were,” I say, and push past him. It’s none of his damn business.
I’ve taken this path a thousand times, but never to the destination I have in mind tonight. It’s an unwritten rule that the staff quarters are just for staff. It was builtto keep workers on-site but with their own dedicated space to relax during their downtime. But none of that matters tonight as I walk toward the building designed like a one-story motel. I walk briskly along the well-lit concrete walkway covered by a stone roof gable that stretches the entire length. I pass one door after another, each one a private access to a small, furnished staff suite withits own bathroom.
I don’t need to look back and see Vinny’s pretty, brooding face. He’s there, his massive frame looming as he follows close behind me like a damn shadow.
When we reach the door to Antonio’s suite, I turn to Vinny and tap a finger on his upper chest a few times. “You’re going to your room to change out of this awful suit now… and take as much time as you need.”
“You’re asking for trouble, going in there,” he warns me.
“That’s none of your concern,” I say, dismissing him.
He can judge me all he wants to. If I only have a few days before I leave everything behind, the least I can do is spend it the way I want to.
