Page 103 of Die for You

This is unethical and unheard of. Some sisters cover their mouths, their eyes wide as they too see the wrongdoing of Gianna’s scheme.

I’m about to voice my horror, but am drowned out by thunderous applause. These people are monsters.

Gianna puts on a meek front, but she is anything but. All she sees is money by venturing into new territory—pimping out orphans.

I’m so triggered.

My body threatens to shut down, just as it once did when I was a child. Every face in here is the enemy, and the urge to flee is suffocating.

This is against Gianna’s protocol, but if I don’t get out of here, I’ll lose Lettie forever.

I push my way through the crowd, which only seems to cave in on me. Someone reaches out, asking if I’m okay. On instinct, I shove them aside. The woman gasps, seeking refuge in her snooty husband, who looks down his nose at me, protecting his wife from the unhinged person.

But I feel like the only sane person in this room.

I finally break free and take slow, calming breaths as I stand in the hallway. People are looking at me, so I quickly make my way to the bathroom near the chapel, which is far enough away from anyone to see or hear me. Once inside, I lock the cubicle door and commence dry retching into the toilet.

My empty stomach has nothing to purge, but it’s the sickness I feel I wish to expel.

I don’t know how long I stay this way, but I feel a bit better after a while. I flush the toilet and come to a shaky stand. I peer at myself in the oval-shaped mirror as I wash my hands. I feel a hundred years old.

Tossing the paper towel into the waste bin, I open the door and bump straight into the last person I want to see right now.

Bria opens her mouth, but I am done with this game. This needs to end now. I am toeing the line between stability and psychosis, and I’m fearful I’ll slip and be lost for good. So, without thought, I punch Bria in the face.

She staggers back, caught off guard.

I don’t give her time to recover before I punch her again.

“Valentina!” Lenny hisses, his polished shoes skidding on the linoleum as he races toward me. “What the fuck!”

I don’t have time to sugarcoat anything. “We give her to Gianna, we get Lettie back.”

Bria wavers on her feet, fingers brushing over her bloody lip. Her eyes are flickering as she fights to stay afloat.

“Choose,” I say, prepared for anything.

Lenny wrestles with what’s right and what’s wrong. But in the end, his choice proves that no matter what, he’ll always choose me.

“Lenny, no,” Bria slurs.

But it’s too late.

“Forgive me,” he states with utter remorse, before knocking her out cold.

She collapses to the floor like a rag doll.

Lenny is broken. He peers at Bria with sadness and guilt as he grips his hair in both hands. “What have I done? I’m so sorry.”

Regret swarms me because I hate he’s been put in a predicament such as this. I would feel the same way if faced with the choice, which reminds me of Nico.

I had forgotten that he was arriving in America.

That speaks volumes.

I wonder if he’s here. If so, he would be at Lenny’s.

This shit show just won’t end.