She stared death in the face and she smiled.
At least that's what the stories said.
So they called her the queen of darkness.
But some knew better.
And so they called her the devil instead.
-S.E George
I'm not a complicated woman.
But I suppose...
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It's all so repetitive. Wake up, be bored, sleep. Three days later and I feel as though watching paint dry would be better than anything I could do here. Which isn't a whole lot. I regret never actually searching up if death by boredom is a real thing. Because; if it is then I'm at serious risk.
It's ten in the morning and I've done nothing but eat a croissant. Which is nowhere near enough breakfast seeing as I'm also starving. You'd think they're going through starvation here, seeing how they ration their food. Although it might just be me.
At specifically 10:26 I hear a quick knock whilst someone simultaneously unlocks the door, and Rodrigo swiftly enters. I want to tell him that knocking and entering before you even get an answer defeats the purpose of knocking in the first place. But I hold my tongue, my plan has been to keep silent. My silence can speak for me, and maybe guilt them into not forcing me to attend this stupid party. Guilt tripping the head of the Italian mafia? Not likely. Not trying at all? Makes it even less likely. It would have worked better if I wasn't laid off the bed on my back, with my head dangling off the edge. I'd placed the clock upside down on the floor so I could watch it like this.
"Boss wants to see you." Brief and minimal, and only a slight judging look at how I was laid. Those words pretty much sum up Rodrigo. That and 'unreadable', one minute he seems the slightest bit sympathetic. Than he's as cold as the North Pole the next! For no reason at all. Men. They can be so irrational. And judgy.
The cuffs remain, not as tight however. He left bruises from the first time. Three knocks on the door and that wretched voice replies. Someone leaves as we enter. Who-? His brother! It took me a minute to register who the face belonged to. We only met briefly at Natasha's birthday party. He looks at the cuffs on my wrists and winks at me as he leaves. Odd. I don't know whether to be offended or laugh.
"You know the drill" Viktor nods his head at Rodrigo and then waves his hand towards the door.
"So principessa; how are you?" This stronzo. I cannot believe him. However I vowed myself to silence. And I have to stick with it.
For five more minutes at least.
He leans in, hands supporting his chin. "Silent treatment? I wouldn't think you were the type" what's that supposed to mean?
"Well if you won't talk then you can listen" he sits back and relaxes into his chair.
"We're going out for the day."
"Hell no" a minute might not be five, but it is better than thirty seconds. And ain't no way he's getting away with this.
"And why not principessa?" He's a cocky bastard and always bloody smirking!
"Because there's no way in heaven or hell that I'm spending a day with you. A minute is too long. Thirty seconds is too long. A day? Do you want to drive me even further into a pit of crazy?!"
