MasukELARA POVGiulia has been nothing short of a living nightmare since she stepped foot in this house. It’s like she has eyes stitched into the wallpaper that wherever I go, she is there waiting and ready to probe and dig her manicured fingers into spots she knows are already tender.My sickness has worsened, and her cruelty has risen to meet it. She acts the saint in Nero’s presence like she can’t hurt a fly, but the moment his back is turned, the mask slips, and she returns to being a devil in designer heels.I’ve been trying to ignore her. I refuse to roll in the mud with her and throw words back and forth like petty schoolgirls, but she is making it impossible. Lately the urge to slap her is so strong my palm actually itches.I’m hiding in the library with head on the table, trying to catch a few minutes of sleep when her voice cuts through the comfortable silence like a serrated knife and pollute the air.“Gluttony and sloth? You’re really working your way through the sins, aren't y
NERO POV“I don’t think your whore really likes me,” Giulia says, her voice slicing through my concentration and dragging my attention back to the dining table.My eyes have been fixated on the archway, waiting for Elara to appear, even though I know it’s a pipe dream. She can’t stand me anymore just like I tell myself I can’t stand her. It shouldn’t bother me. I swore to hate Carlo Graco and everyone carrying his blood. But every time I look at her, I don't see the monster who destroyed my family. I just see Elara. And the fact that she’s his daughter feels like a cosmic joke designed solely to punish me.That’s why she’s my karma, and I’ll have to pay for the rest of my life.Giulia’s words register a second later, and anger blisters beneath my skin, hot and sudden.“Is that what you call her?” I sneer, my voice dropping a dangerous octave. “To her face?”Giulia blinks, taken aback by the shift in my tone. “No… no,” she stammers. “I would never do that. I can be cordial, though I do
ELARA POVMy stomach lurches, and not just from the sickness this time. She talks about me like I’m a stress ball or a piece of gym equipment. And honestly, I don’t know how to counter this because that seems to be my purpose here, and I don’t even seem that important in the grand scheme of work.We reach the end of the hallway, and I stop before the heavy oak doors, eager to end this conversation.“This is Nero’s studio,” I say with a tight voice. “He doesn’t let people in there.”“Oh, he’ll let me in. I’m going to be his wife,” she says with a satisfied sigh, stepping closer to the door. “Wives get keys to everything, didn’t you know?”She turns back to me, her expression shifting into something conspiratorial. She steps into my personal space, causing her perfume, overly floral and cloying to invade my nose.“Actually, since you’re being so helpful,” she lowers her voice, sounding deceitfully syrupy. “Maybe you can give me a few tips. Fast track the process for me.”I raise an eyeb
ELARA POVJust as Nero told me yesterday, his beloved fiancée has arrived. She’s been moving her luggage in since this morning, and judging by the sheer mountain of trunks that has been coming and going, I can already smell that she’s going to be nothing but trouble.Okay, maybe that’s me being unnecessarily mean. It’s unfair to judge her before we’ve met just because of my unresolved, pathetic feelings for Nero.I’m currently hiding out in Diana’s room, fighting the itch in my fingers to rummage through her drawers, desperate to busy myself. I need a distraction. I don’t want to be alone with my destructive thoughts, and Kane doesn’t count. He’s currently sprawled on a chair, smiling at his phone and taking pictures of himself. I swear, the man is his own biggest fan.Seated on the small rocking chair opposite Diana, I bounce my leg nervously. “So, what are you doing?”“You asked five minutes ago,” she snaps without looking up. “Stop asking dumb questions. You have eyes.”True. I do
ELARA POVAside from the heavy ache that has taken resident in my heart, I feel a hunger I’ve never felt before and the first thing that comes to my mind as I open my eyes is the crispy, golden crust of Valina’s Pollo Milanese.Knowing I have to go to the kitchen to get it, I sit up, my limbs feeling heavy from the exhaustion of the emotional toll of the last twenty-four hours. I climb out of the bed and immediately slip on the marble floor, stumbling and crashing down hard on my side. Pain explodes in my elbow, and I hiss through my teeth as I clutch my arm.Great. Just fucking great. As if the misery of my heart breaking wasn’t enough, apparently, I need physical injuries to match.Sleep was impossible last night anyway. Being told I don't matter, and that I was nothing was a blow I couldn't shake. It cut deeper than I’ll like to admit. Everything cuts deeper than I’ll like to admit when it comes to Nero. It’s my own awful luck for having feelings for a man made of ice. Feelings I c
NERO POV; TEN YEAR OLDI stand in the middle of my mother’s studio, the afternoon sun casting long, dusty beams across the floor.I managed to make a little over three hundred dollars today. Yesterday, several strangers gave me money up to a hundred-dollar for doing absolutely nothing, and I realized I didn't have to pickpocket anymore. I could just stand in the alley by the train station, looking small and pitiful, and people would just give me money.It’s something shameful to do, and I know my mom will be mad at me if I tell her, but I can’t help but be happy because I have enough to buy my mom’s favorite snack which is fish cakes and also finger ice-cream.The bag with the fish cakes is warm in my hand, smelling of grease and fish which makes me want to gag, but other than that because I hate fish.My forehead pinches in confusion and concern as I stop at my mom’s latest painting and just stare. Painting was never her forte as her old work was just bad, but these… these are differ







