Page 21 of Her Wrath
“If you succeed, I will kill him and take over his organisation,” says Rose, or Rosalia Vittare, or whatever her name is.
I shake my head in total disbelief.
“You are mad people,” I say and stride away, aiming for the stairs.
“Antonella,” calls Rosalia after me, and a shudder runs through my spine. I freeze and spin around. A shudder runs down my spine as an image forms in my mind. My father calls after me while I am running across a field with a kite, way too fast, and I trip over my own feet. It was a nickname he had given me.
My father.
“That’s what he called you,” she says with a dangerous flicker in her eyes as she walks up to me. “I met you many times when you were a little girl, little infame. And when he betrayed me, I swore I would get to him, and I did. And then I learned what you did, and I promised my dead son to kill you for him.” Her voice is dark and threatening. She is loaded with emotion.
I killed her son,I repeat in my mind.
No, I didn’t kill anyone.
I would remember.
Right?
‘Repressed memories can come as dissociative amnesia, and are a commonoccurrence in those who have experienced childhood trauma.’I recite an article I once read in my mind on childhood trauma.
She reaches me, and I find myself with a gun pressed against my forehead. “You either do what I say, or we end this right here, right now. What is it?”
I look her straight in the eyes. We’re almost the same height. I don’t know what exactly makes me open my mouth and say the possibly stupidest thing a person could say when confronted with a gun at their forehead.
“Well,” I say. “You won’t make me do anything when I'm dead, will you?”
I hear Kat chuckle, but I don’t break my gaze into Rosalia’s eyes. I might not be of great age, but I have standards. High standards. Reason one why dating and meeting new people is as exhausting as it is. People today have no manners and no standards. And I won’t let anyone treat me like I am some sort of scum.
“I dislike pestilent little brats like you,” she says derogatorily. I see she can be quite impressive in her nature, but I also know too much about human behaviour and its origins to take her seriously. She is a bully, a judgmental, heated character who suffered the death of a child and chose violence to get over it.
“And I dislike to be taken somewhere against my will and forced into doing things I don’t want to do,” I say coldly, staring her down. I am not one to be bullied.
“I see what you meant,” says Rosalia suddenly, removes the gun and turns to Kat. “She might actually be useful.”
I roll my eyes.
I am so done with these people.
So, I aim to get up the stairs, see a bowl with fruit on the open kitchen counter, and grab one apple. Stop. Put it back, take the entire bowl, and leave for upstairs without another word.
Mad people, they are,I think to myself. But I also can’t fight a small grin appearing on my face as I walk with the bowl, imagining them staring after me.
6
ROSALIA
PLAYLIST: LOSE CONTROL – AG, MINDY JONES
Over the years, I've seen many women come and go from my house. Many were either abused children or vicious murderers—oftentimes both, like Adria and Kat. The woman now walking up the stairs in that floral dress, carrying the entire fruit bowl, is neither, yet she has managed to impress me.
The woman I send to deliver Giuseppe must be capable of handling men like him, which means situations that involve guns, abusive men, power-hungry fools, and manipulative behaviours. Normal people can’t handle that, and Kat was right about that girl. She might be the perfect thing to get what we always aimed for.
Overall, things have turned out better than any of us could have anticipated.
Whatever happens, I hold the upper hand. Best case, she gets me Guiseppe, worst, he kills her. Middle ground, she is a liar and betrays me, and I kill her myself so I can finally check the open debt from my list.
“I am calling the cleaners,” I say to Kat, pointing at the dead man Adria has brought with her. “Talk to that girl and instruct her.”
