“Don’t you know who he is, Mama? Have you figured it out?”
I start to laugh. I can deny everything I’ve done to her. She’s the one who dressed in a provocative outfit and is indulging in a tantrum. Valeria is on my side and she always has been.
My wife passes an exasperated hand across her brow. “Lolita, you’re embarrassing me and your stepfather. Go to your room.”
“You’re going to die,” Lolita whispers, looking right into my eyes.
I raise my glass to take a sip, rather enjoying myself. The more of a fuss she makes, the easier she’s making things for me, and the more fun I’ll have upstairs tonight.
Faster than I can follow, she knocks the wine out of my hand with the blade. The glass shatters across the floor and red wine splatters everywhere.
Valeria jumps to her feet. “That’s enough. Apologize to your father.”
“He’s not my father!” Lolita shouts, and closes her eyes. “I hate you. I’ve always hated you.”
Lolita opens her eyes, and places the tip of the sword against my throat again. Her hand starts to shake and the blade makes tiny cuts in my flesh. Blood trickles down my collarbone. I’m cursed, cold, and ruthless. I deserve nothing more than to be killed by my own sword.
“Go on, mi niñita,” I whisper. “I know you want to.”
Tears shimmer in her eyes. Either she ends this now, or I’m never going to stop. Never.
10
Lolita
I stare into Zacarias’ eyes. When the Black Fox kissed me, it was him. When the Black Fox claimed he was protecting me from Zacarias, it was him. I begged him, blindfolded, to strap me with his belt. I craved his cock, over and over. I sucked him so eagerly with my mouth and came on his fingers.
“Why are you such a liar?” I ask.
Though there’s tension in his shoulders and his wary eyes never leave my face, Zacarias shrugs elegantly. “I didn’t lie. I just never told you my name.”
I hear a lapping sound behind me, and my heart plummets. If I hadn’t been so focused on Zacarias and the sword in my hands I would have realized what was going to happen.
He’s right.
But I wasn’t talking to him.
“Not you, Zacarias.” I turn to Mama, who’s gazing wide-eyed at the sword in my hands. “Why are you such a liar?”
“Excuse me, darling?” She grows almost cross-eyed watching the sword approaching her throat. “Get that thing out of my face.”
“You made sure no one at the school believed a word I said. Those horrible men were able to touch me, and there was nothing I could do to protect myself. When I went to the headmistress, she told me to stop making up stories.”
It still makes me burn with indignation and shame remembering what she said. Your mother warned me that you like to make up tales about men lusting after you. Why don’t you concentrate on your studies instead of trying to seduce my staff? If this happens again, you will be expelled.
“Whenever I showed you my excellent grades, you said they were forged. I never forged anything. I never lied about anything, but you wouldn’t believe a word out of my mouth.”
Mama’s beautiful face is tight and cold with outrage. Sometimes I wonder why she even had a child. She’s never been like a mother to me.
“When I finally found someone I truly love, he’s kept from me through lies, as well.”
“Someone you love?” sneers Mama. “There’s no one you love. There’s no one you even know, you disgusting little liar.”
“I’m not a liar!” I shriek.
“Where did they touch you?” Zacarias growls behind me. “What are their names?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. I stopped them on my own by recording their gross heavy breathing and threatening to send it to the police.”
I glance at Zacarias. His hands are clenching the arms of his chair and his expression is alive with fury, a stark contrast to Mama’s indifference.
“Yes, it does matter.”
I give a hollow laugh. “Don’t worry, Zacarias. I was still a virgin when you came to me. I didn’t let them have that. I fought to keep myself pure for an honorable man. Say thank you, Zacarias.”
“What for, mi niñita?”
The lapping sound stopped several minutes ago. There was nothing I could do to save her. I take a deep breath and step aside, showing them what’s lying on the floor, dead and still. Blanca, my mother’s toy poodle.
A blood-curdling scream pierces the air. Mama throws herself to her knees before the little dog.
“I saw her adding something to your glass before you came downstairs,” I tell Zacarias. He stares between the wine splattered on the ground and the dead dog. The poison would have finished him in an instant.
“Your husband tricked me into having sex with him, Mama.” I say the words dispassionately, watching her rock the poodle in her arms and sob into her fur. “He took my virginity the night of the ball in Madrid. He comes into my room, straps me with his belt and makes me call him daddy.”