book 3 of 4
have you ever hated someone so badly you just wanted to shoot them dead? yeah, well, be careful what you fucking wish for.
let's get one thing straight, when bianca prescott wrote up that hit list, she never intended on actually murderin...
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Even in the supposed comfort of her room, Bianca didn't feel like she was home.
Instead, she felt a strange longing tug at her heart— a sort of homesickness but not quite. She wanted to go home, desperately, but what could she do if she was already there? Where else could she go? What else did she have left?
The realization struck her like lightning. Then, her ribs collapsed and it left a blackhole between her lungs, sucking everything in its wake.
Empty. That's what it was. She felt so, so empty.
Her room appeared exactly as she left it; the makeup was still strewn across her vanity, and one of her drawers was still partially open. The bed was made but the pillows were unfluffed and the sheets slightly wrinkled.
Bianca stared at the hand-tailored cashmere and silk garments lining her walk-in wardrobe, each fabric neatly adorned on white hangers. On one side were shelves of red-bottomed pumps and diamond-encrusted stilettos while the other housed designer mini handbags, so small and impractical they could only fit a cell phone and lipgloss.
Bianca's head tilted with curiosity. Her hair dripped water onto the floorboards below but she didn't tear her gaze away, standing in nothing but a white satin robe.
Sometime in the summer, she traded the argyle and houndstooth clothing for sundresses and mini skirts. She used to love it but now, even dressing herself felt like a chore.
By the time Bianca blended the last of her concealer beneath the dark circles rimming her eyes, Reginald knocked on her bedroom door, claiming lunch was prepared. The girl sighed, dusting a pinch of blush against her cheeks, and told him she'd be down in a minute.
By the time she reached downstairs, her family welcomed her with open arms. Pilar told Bianca she'd be teaching her Castilian Spanish while piling a serving of food onto her plate enough to feed ten men.
Bianca glanced up at Lydia who carefully curated her own plate, sizing each portion of meats, vegetables, and carbs. While her mother was doing that, Pilar claimed Bianca had lost too much weight while she was missing, which she wasn't used it.
