Page 48 of Reckoning

I can practically feel my body buzzing in anticipation for this caffeine hit.

I murmur my thanks, sitting down into the squishy chair and I ditch my wool coat.

“How are you doing?” I ask like we’re not here to talk about me.

She was the one who reached out to me. I’m not sure if Roman asked her to but right now, I don’t care. I feel like I’ve got cabin fever from hiding away and in truth it’s not like I have all that many options.

“I’m good.” She says. She’s wearing a big, baggy jumper with a scarf strategically placed over the front. If you know what you’re looking at you might guess her secret but she’s still hiding it well. “And you?”

I give her a cheery smile, one she’s no doubt given dozens of times before, when our roles were reversed, when she was married to Paris, when he was assaulting her and yet the whole of Verona saw them as the dream couple.

“You know you can trust me.” She says quietly.

“I know.” I sigh. It’s not that I don’t trust her. I just don’t know where to begin, how to articulate what I’m feeling. I’m exhausted. It feels like I’m constantly firefighting. Like I’m constantly fighting a battle and all the while this entire city is just waiting for me to fuck up. Like they’re expecting it and they’ve got the popcorn on standby.

I take a long sip of my drink. It’s just as good as I imagined but, when I put it down, Rose has a very different look on her face.

“What…?” I begin but quickly fall silent as a figure moves right in front of us.

Valentina is stood, staring at me, making it damned obvious. Christ, why did she have to be here, of all places, right this minute?

Rose’s bodyguard immediately goes to block her but I wave him off. Whatever this is, I’d rather deal with it now and then she can go on her evil way. He grunts, taking a step back, ensuring he’s closer now, just in case.

Valentina acts like he’s not even there, like he doesn’t exist. She’s got balls – I’ll give her that.

“May I?” She says, taking one of the vacant seats before we can object and dumping her oversized Coach bag in the other.

“Actually, we were…” Rose begins but she cuts her off.

“I’ve been meaning to catch you, Sofia.” She says, giving me a tight smile. “I think we need to have a little chat.”

“Is that so?” I reply. I’m not sure if she was always this bitter or if Otto turned her that way. I guess being willingly married to him for seven years is bound to make you both twisted and resentful.

Her auburn hair is so crimped and styled it barely moves as she bops her head. Her face is smoother than mine, more youthful which is a feat in itself considering she’s well over forty. But it’s her eyes that show her age. They’re watery, glassy even, like they’re a window to her soul and there’s nothing there, on the inside, beyond her vapid personality.

She opens her bag, pulls out a tin of tiny cigars and lights one up, even though there’s a no smoking rule inside. When the waitress quickly comes over to tell her this, Valentina rolls her eyes and stubs it out on the actual table.

My eyes focus on the burn mark. On the blackened wood. My skin prickles, all those nasty little burns along my arms seems to react as if they can sense the heat, as if they anticipate it; that feeling of pain.

But Otto is dead. He is dead. I scream those words in my head, reminding myself that I’m no longer his walking ashtray. I’m no longer his punchbag.

“What do you want?” I snap, losing my patience.

“Well, aren’t you just delightful these days?” She says sarcastically. “Maybe the press is right about you.”

Yeah, I’ll admit that gets my back up more. She knows as well as I that Verona thrives off fake news, fake stories. Half of what this city reads is made up bullshit.

“Get to the point.” Rose growls.

Valentina casts her eyes over her like Rose is trash and I can’t help the snigger. Valentina might be rich, filthy rich even, but she’s new money. By Verona society standards she doesn’t have the pedigree to look down upon anyone though judging by her snobbery she clearly thinks differently.

“I wish to talk to Sofia, alone.” She states.

“You interrupted us.” I retort. “If you want to talk, then talk, otherwise you can piss off.”

I see Rose’s lips quirk. I swear I can see a camera out of the corner of my eye recording this entire thing and I’ll be honest, right now, I don’t care. Let Verona see, let them watch, let them realise that I’m not a person they can all keep fucking with. Let them realise I do have a backbone, and if I’m pushed into a corner I sure as hell will come out punching.

“Fine.” Valentina mutters. “I want to discuss this case.”