Ravaged By Passion

Jeanie

Idecide to get over my discomfort and wander outside right around twilight. The sun’s dipped down into the desert, but the light isn’t entirely extinguished, and I’m able to sneak down the back staircase and go out the back door.

Back home, I could’ve gone for a walk or to a store or something. But here in Villa Bruno, this isn’t my house and I’m barely a welcomed presence. I’m tolerated at best. Nobody wants me, except for Gavino at least, and it’s painfully obvious. Which means I’m stuck in this room, and while it’s a really nice room, even comfortable places can start to feel like a prison after a while. Which means I’d better get over myself and get used to being here.

I keep thinking about that abandoned motel and all the people inside. I would’ve bet money that Gavino didn’t give a shit about the homeless, but he risked his own safety to go back in there and warn them, even knowing that Benedict was on his way.

I’m not sure what he’s trying to do. The idea that he’s convincing me he’s not some mafia bastard seems laughable—he’s clearly that and not much else—but maybe there’s a bigger game. Maybe he’s trying to get me to see his vision of the city, and he wants me to help him reach it.

I don’t want to get wrapped up in his internal mafia politics.

I’ve already let myself get deeper than I ever thought I could. I’m living in his house and contractually obligated to be his personal assistant or secretary or whatever, and I have no clue how I’m going to shoot my shot when I get the chance.

Or what that shot even means.

I know that’s what Gavino’s thinking. He wants me to murder Malcolm. In his world, getting revenge means putting a bullet in someone’s head, and I won’t pretend like the thought hadn’t occurred to me. Malcolm probably does deserve to die for everything he did to me and my mother over the years—but I’m not going to do it.

I hate Malcolm—I hate him so much it’s like every inch of my body is vibrating with that hate—but I refuse to take a life.

I won’t sink to that level.

I keep thinking I can find some damaging piece of information, something I can use to get him arrested, to ruin his reputation, but that seems less and less likely.

I know he’s guilty of terrible things but I can’t prove it.

Not in any way that matters.

Which means I’m stuck waiting and hoping something jumps out and announces itself. Here you go, Jeanie, here’s what you need to get your revenge! A big sky-written sign that I can’t miss even if I wanted to.

Sometimes, it’s hard to be inside my own head. Right now is one of those times. I keep running myself in circles wondering what I’m going to do to hurt Malcolm the way he hurt me while also worrying Gavino is going to push me into doing something I don’t want to do.

Around and around. It’s so frustrating, and the worst part is, I feel like I’m trapped in Villa Bruno.

The yard is quiet except for chirping bugs and buzzing creatures. The day’s heat is already getting sucked out from the ground and I lean against a low retaining wall and look out over the desert, past the swimming pool and into the rocky landscape beyond. The villa feels like an oasis on the edge of an alien planet. Gavino’s house is out there—his little dumpy shack, at least compared to this palace—and I wonder what he’s doing. I wonder if he’s even home.

The back door slides open and I jump slightly in surprise. I stand very still as three women step out, all of them with wine glasses in their hands. I recognize Olivia, but I don’t know the other two. One is intensely blonde, so blonde it looks white, with long fake nails, fake lips, fake eyes, fake boobs. She’s laughing loudly about something, I’m not sure what, and the other two cluster around her. The other girl is around Olivia’s height with olive skin and thick brown hair and dark eyes and a very Italian look.

They’re all extremely pretty, and I feel suddenly out of place and uncomfortable, at least until Karah steps out to complete the group and spots me.

Now there’s no escape and I’m completely stuck.

She waves, smiling big, and the other women all look over. Olivia seems a bit hesitant, though the blonde girl looks positively excited. She’s clearly the oldest of the group and hurries over to me as Karah follows after, looking vaguely worried.

“There you are!” the blonde woman says. “Ugh, Karah, how’d you hide this one from me for so long?”

“Elise,” Karah says in a warning tone. “Be nice.”

“You’re Gavino’s new girlfriend—sorry, I mean, his new assistant.” She beams at me. “I’m Elise, and this is Mirella and—”

“We’ve met,” Olivia says, tilting her head. “How are you enjoying your stay at Villa Bruno?”

I gawk at the group of women. They’re all beautiful, well dressed, stylish and glowing in that happy and wealthy sort of way, a glow I’ve never experienced before. Karah looks sympathetic, Elise seems to be enjoying herself, Olivia is vaguely hostile, and Mirella is frowning at the others like she’s not sure what to think.

“Uh, it’s a little overwhelming, but this place is really amazing,” I say and edge away from the group. “I was just heading back inside. Nice seeing you all.”

“Hold on,” Elise says loudly. “No way you’re escaping that easily. Ignore Olivia, she’s a little cranky right now.”

“Hey,” Olivia says.