Heartless People

TWENTY-SIX

Blood!Blood! Thats a good thing! A ghost who bleeds is

less dangerous!

—Gaston Leroux

CAMILA

Sitting at my vanity, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the idiotic toy.

My mother was like the Joker, playing mind games with people all while reminding us that she was always there, lurking. Somehow she had gotten this toy to me without appearing on any cameras and
without alerting any of the men on guard. Lauren had already taken it apart and stuffed it back together, there were no cameras or wires in it.

It was just a toy. I didn't get it. Even with how fucked up I was, every time I looked down at my stomach, I felt my throat close up as I tried to fight back the emotions building their way up. He wasn't
even here yet and I knew I would die—that I would do anything—for him. How could my own mother be so hell-bent on destroying me?

Even with her issues with Orlando, I'd come from her, I was part of her, and she still wanted to kill me.

"You look stunningly beautiful," Lauren said as she stepped up behind me, and met my gaze in the mirror.

I couldn't help but grin as I turned to face her. There she stood, not even a foot away from me, dressed in a full tuxedo, shiny black shoes and a she'd even bothered to comb her hair.

"Where are we going?"

She had gotten me a brand new dress; long, blue, draped silk, chiffon, bustier with an internal bodice by Alexander McQueen. It fit my stomach perfectly, and I knew that  she'd had Adrianas help with this, but it was beautiful and a little grand for a normal night.

"The right response is thank you, sweetheart and you look amazing as well." She pouted, trying to fix her bowtie.

Rising, I grabbed a hold of the tie myself. "With the exception of your hair, you look amazing. Now where the fuck are we going?"

"You have no idea how to do this either, do you?" She smirked, looking down at my failing attempt to tie her bowtie.

"Not even a little bit." I laughed, letting go. "But isn't that what good wives do? Fix their spouse ties?"

"Is it? I think the fact that you can't tie a bowtie is charming." She kissed my forehead before looking into the mirror.

Crossing my arms, I simply stared at her for a moment. "You're laying it on thick, wife. And you haven't told me where were going yet."

Sh sighed. "We're  going on a date."

"Lauren, I've told you—"

"You don't date. I know, but I date. And since marriage is about compromise, Im going to ignore you."

"Im sorry, asshole, but how is this a compromise?" I was not going to be steamrolled by her only hours after her mothers little stunt. Having a baby shower with women I didn't know and didn't like; I was still a bit ticked about it.

Rolling her eyes, she pulled out two tickets from her jacket and handed them to me.

"Bianca e Falliero."  My eyes caressed each word slowly, like they couldn't believe what they were seeing, before I glanced up at her.

How did she know? I loved this opera. It was the very first one I had ever seen with my father.

I wasn't sure what else to say, except, "You don't like opera."

"No." She leaned against my dresser. "Thats why its a compromise. Tonight, I just want you to enjoy yourself, not as a boss, but as yourself."

"They're one and the same, but thank you,"  I whispered. She really didn't understand how much this meant to me. I had to fight the urge to cry. What in the hell was wrong me?