MadeleineI came upstairs to find my bank card.It was ridiculous, but I wanted to surprise Rafael with that dress I saw in the boutique. White, short, scandalous. The type of dress that used to make my skin crawl.It was still on my mind. He wanted me to try it on, and I saw the look in his eyes when he said those words. I wanted him to always look at me that way - a mixture of lust and adoration. I knew what it would mean to him if I put that dress on.And I wanted to do it. I wanted to shed the person I once was. The good girl. The nun. The person who would hide away from any admiration like it was some kind of ugly sin.It was just a stupid little dress. But it meant something. A gesture that the old Madeleine, that Sister Francis, was finally dead.The closet was tidy. Rafael had been organising again. Everything in its place. Even the hangers were aligned like soldiers. At some point, he unpacked my bag and I couldn’t find the bank card I stuffed inside.I opened a random box on
RafaelSforza’s office is a mess. Papers scattered everywhere, the safe opened and left open, he upended his drawers on the floors and left them there. Even the photographs of his wedding day, and the ones of his family, his children, ended up on the floor and have been pulverised under his feet.Behind me, Rosalind lets out something like a sob and I hear her swallow more of the scotch. “What are you looking for?” she asks. “Maybe I can help you find it.”I’m surprised she’s not slurring her words. Hell, I’m surprised she’s not lying passed out in a puddle of her own vomit.I survey the carnage. This is going to take fucking forever.And I can't have Rosalind Sforza looking over my shoulder while I'm here, combing through evidence.“Christ,” I mumble as I take a handkerchief out of my pocket and use it to ease the safe door open all the way. “He really left nothing behind.”“I told you so,” Rosalind says. Her voice is bitter and filled with anger.I reach into my pocket and take out
RafaelWe arrive at the same time Betsy comes home from school. Ethel walks just ahead of us, holding the little girl’s hand. Betsy is skipping alongside, the backpack bouncing against her back, the skirt of her uniform flipping up.If the events at the compound left any scar on her psyche, it’s not showing. Not yet, anyway. Missus Wilson was supposed to set up Betsy’s appointments with the therapists and doctors, but I think the old woman forgot. I make a mental note to remind Ethel just as we step inside the penthouse.“Mommy!” Betsy exclaims when she sees us and goes straight for Madeleine.It’s difficult to tell, but I think the girl misses her sister. Without any hesitation, Maddie goes to her knees and hugs Betsy. Madeleine can tell me she’s a terrible mother until all the cows in the world come home. The pure joy on her face when she embraces Betsy tells me another story. I can see how much she cares, how hard she tries, and Betsy will notice. If not now, then one day in the
RafaelWe leave the little cafe an hour later. I'm carrying a bag with our leftovers. Madeleine ate well, but in the end the large portion defeated her and she had to give up with more than half the food still on her plate.I should be out there looking for Sforza, but I'm sure Frankie has it under control. I’m getting antsy and restless though. It’s the same feeling I get when the calm that settles over the lake, and everything goes still just before the storm breaks loose and comes roaring across the water.Madeleine stops abruptly outside a boutique window and looks at the dresses on display. It’s much more revealing than the one she’s wearing, with plunging necklines, and high hems.I bought her clothes. Years ago, when I prepared the room for her. I bought them with a nun in mind.She is not that girl, that woman, anymore.I put my arm around her waist and look at the selection. The white dress she’s staring at has a high neckline, but a very short skirt. It’s pretty, and I want
RafaelI can’t remember the last time I walked through the city without having someone around to watch my back. Even after the war ended, I always had someone with me - just in case. Not just because the smaller families still held a grudge, but because I damn well knew I pissed Matteo off every time I emptied one of his containers.It's liberating. Glorious. To walk in the sunshine with Madeleine by my side. I've forgotten how good it feels to be free.I glance at Maddie who is simply radiant. She didn’t even look this healthy back in the convent, where I’m sure she had a decent enough life, if not a good one.The little cafe, tucked away between two boutiques at the bottom of the street, is one of my favourite places. It’s small, with only five tables and two booths. The little restaurant is quiet, the food is good, and the owner doesn’t feel the need for constant validation like English does.We step into a place that looks a little like every grandmother’s living room. Not a singl
MadeleineI wake up glowing. Like a firefly that didn’t know its light was missing and finally found it again. It's exhilirating. I finally did it. I managed to move on from Sister Francis.I ache in all the right places, and I feel alive in ways I didn’t know was possible. And rested. As if I slept for a week.I stretch and look at the place where Rafael should be, but his spot is empty. The balcony doors are wide open though, and I can smell the scent of smoke drifting in from outside.I’m embarrassed to face him. I don’t know why. It’s stupid. I’m a grown woman, but he always saw me as something… untouchable. What if he doesn't see me the same way he used to? What if he looks at me the same way he looked at the hookers in the casino?All the men in that place regarded me that way, and it didn’t bother me. They didn't matter, and I knew who I truly was. Still am. But if Rafael looks at me like that, I don’t think I’ll make it. I laid myself bare to him last night. In every sense of
RafaelI am drunk on pure Madeleine. Her scent. Her taste. The way she so easily opens up to me. Trusting me not to hurt her. Trusting that she can be herself with me.It’s intoxicating. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before in my life.Moaning softly, I dip my tongue inside her, drowning in her.I’m so hard, so in need of her, that I’m afraid I’ll burst wide open. Like a fucking geyser.I didn’t lie when I told her that I haven’t had sex in a while. It’s been years.I want to rush. Every part of me wants to be inside her.But Jesus, Mary and Joseph, if life isn’t pretty fucking magnificent right where I am at the moment. Between her legs, drinking her in like a dying man who found an oasis in the desert.Slowly, I start to open her, working a finger inside her. Even that is glorious. She is glorious.It happens fast and suddenly. The orgasm that takes her is intense. She breaks open for me like a blooming flower meeting the sun.That is what I wanted. Feeling her throb around my finger.
MadeleineRafael crushes out his cigarette and sips his drink. He brought up a glass of wine for me, but I hardly touched it. After what happened at the casino, I have a deep distrust for any kind of wine.“What time is it?” I ask.He glances at his watch. “Wow. Almost nine.”I jump up. “I missed Betsy’s bedtime. I promised her that I’d tuck her in.”“No,” he says and puts his glass down. “Your face is swollen. She’ll notice that you cried. I’ll do it. Why don’t you go take a nice, long bath and relax?”I shake my head. “I don’t… no, I don’t want to be alone.”He just nods. “Okay. I’ll be quick.”“Promise?”He leans over and kisses me. He tastes and smells like cigarettes and whiskey. I wrinkle my nose, and he laughs. “I also promise to brush my teeth.”While he is gone, I go to the bathroom. He’s right, my face is very swollen, my eyes red. I am exhausted. Mentally, I’m just done.I wash my face, brush my hair and teeth, and go back to the bedroom just as Rafael returns. Without a wo
MadeleineHe holds me like I’m a piece of broken porcelain he has to glue back together. Like I’ll come apart if he lets me go.But I’ve already come undone. In that laundry room this morning while I watched the horrors of last night flash before my eyes. Last night - sometime between that moment when Rafael gave me the gun, and when I dropped it in the lake with the rest of the weapons, standing shoulder to shoulder with some of the deadliest, most violent people on the planet.And yet... I think it happened even sooner than that. Perhaps it began when my father handed me a deck of cards for the first time and showed me how to shuffle it.I came to Rafael broken. He met me after I was already in pieces, held together with invisible tape and glue until somebody dropped me.And it wasn’t him. It wasn’t Rafael. Not him.It was them. When they died. My parents. They let go as they always did, and I shattered to pieces.Again.And everytime that happened, it became harder and harder to p