Ugly Ronney: mafia romance [English]

Chapter 19-2

There were already many people at the house. Soon they would be putting a BOLO out on every news channel in the country to find Ghita. Inside, her friends and employees were searching every corner of the house. What was the next step? Digging in her backyard?

Adele, Ghita's makeup artist, whom I had seen the first time I'd gone there to deliver Yeraz's flowers, approached me with a surprised look on her face.

"Ronney, I didn't recognize you dressed like that. Would you like something to drink?"

Her voice was poised with perfect articulation. Were there any natural people in Asylum?

"Yes, a glass of red wine, thank you."

Puzzled, Adele blinked.

"A glass of wine? It's early. Are you sure?"

She tried to smile naturally, but it didn't suit her.

"No, you're right. I'll take the bottle."

The hairdresser pulled her shoulders back and looked around. She moistened her lips and nodded with that hypocritical smile still stuck on her face before leaving in a hurry to get what I had asked her for.

Upstairs, I made my way to Ghita's room, where I found a kind man just over forty with graying hair. He greeted me and charmingly introduced himself. Tired and exasperated by all the commotion downstairs, I forgot his name in the next second. He then called to a friend of his, who came out of the bathroom.

This girl, very pretty, tall and with beautiful red hair, clapped her hands and said, "There's nothing here either. I'll tell the others."

The man offered for me to follow them downstairs, but I politely declined. He looked at my bottle and asked sympathetically, "Bad night?"

I raised the bottle in front of me and answered with a sigh, "Bad morning!"

I took advantage of being alone in Ghita's room to finally pour myself a drink. I hoped to forget the pain in my chest. The noise from downstairs could be heard, but I focused on the silence of the room. It was almost the size of the apartment I lived in with Bergamote and Alistair.

Sitting in front of the vanity, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked terrible, like I did every day. I took a long sip and closed my eyes before opening them again a few seconds later. It was time to end this worrying disappearance story.

"Ghita, get out of that dressing room or I'll come in and pull you out by your feet!"

I didn't have to raise my voice. I knew she could hear me. I continued in a worn-out tone while pouring myself another drink.

"Life is hard for everyone! Some days it's harder than others, I'll give you that. I can assure you that today is one of those days for me. My heart hurts like crazy and I almost had to listen to the details of Peter's night out with his jerk-off club first thing this morning."

A small chuckle could be heard from the dressing room. I took a sip and continued.

"On my lunch break I'll get my daily training session of learning how to walk on those shoes, which screw up my ankles every time. On top of that, all day long I have to endure the curious looks of perfect wax dolls who wonder how a woman like me manages to get out of bed every morning with a face like this. My life has been turned upside down since I joined your family four months ago. And yet, I have never learned as much about myself as I have since I met you. You have changed me for the better. Last week, I locked my two cousins in the walk-in freezer of my parents' restaurant. They deserved it. Those two are real bitches, I assure you. My mother is furious. She's mad at me and the rest of my family, too."

I stood up and walked slowly to the dressing room. It was a little smaller than Yeraz's, but big enough to hide in. It didn't take me long to find Ghita hiding behind her long evening gowns. In the darkness, I saw her face, her large almond-shaped eyes, and her long hair cascading down her shoulders. Her mascara had run under her eyes, leaving the mark of her tears on her cheeks.

I sat next to her and waited a long time for her to speak.

"I would like to go on vacation in a place where nobody will recognize me," she said. "A place where none of my gestures or the blinking of my eyelashes will be analyzed and spread in the tabloids. I aspire to a simple life, but my name doesn't give me the right to do so." She paused, then continued, "Last night I had another panic attack. I feel like I'm caught in a whirlwind. It's spinning and spinning, and it never stops. My mother is afraid every day that my brother will be killed, but she forgets that our lives are just as much in danger. Fanatics are ready to do anything. There isn't a single night that I'm not afraid for us, for Yeraz. I can't even tell you the last time I managed to fall asleep without taking one of those damn pills."

A silence fell. I decided to speak.

"My cousin, Pedro, plays tennis. He has been a member of his club for two years. It's his passion and it makes him happy. My uncle, José, opened his fruit and vegetable business almost three years ago. He's able to feed his family properly thanks to his business, and my mother takes sewing classes in our neighborhood association with her friends. It's a place where she can forget about my brother's cancer. A breath of fresh air for her."

I turned my face to Ghita, who didn't understand what I was getting at.

"Do you know what all these people have in common?"

She shook her head.

"It's you! Everything was funded by the actions you carry out. Every charity event, every donation, every television appearance has an impact on our lives. You make people happy, Ghita. That's what you do."

She burst into tears while trying to speak at the same time. Her last word was a long, shapeless mumble, drowned out by hiccups of tears. She wrapped her arm around me and then calmed down after a few minutes.

"Thank you, Ronney. I'm sorry about starting that shitty challenge with Peter."

"Even with all the gold in the world, I could never buy your grace and elegance. I'll take this challenge, but I'm afraid I can't win it for you."

"You don't need all that, Ronney. Don't change."

We heard footsteps in the room. I recognized Adele's voice. She was talking to someone in an ominous tone.

"All of this just to get noticed! As if we had nothing else to do but look for her everywhere. She's probably lounging by a pool in a villa. That bitch is way too spoiled. Lucky for her she has her big tits and ass to live on. Without them, that feather-brain would be nothing."

The footsteps moved away. Ghita pulled away from me and with the back of her hand, wiped her tears.

"Who does she think she is?" I shouted, shocked by what I had just heard.

Ghita gave me a small smile and raised both her hands slightly to stop me.

"Don't worry, I'm used to it. I hear her comments all day long, as soon as I turn my back."

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I understood at that moment that we could be beautiful or ugly. It was still the same for everyone. Ghita lived, in her own way, in the same hell that I lived in every day. She wasn't spared the disdain and judgment of the people towards her, either. Something in me changed. The way I looked at her was no longer the same. I saw Ghita. I really saw her for the first time.