Venomous Mistake
This is Marco and Clara's brutal/sexy story.
Clara
Revenge was my goal-to take down the enemy. I've trained under my Uncle, but everything crumbles when my foolish heart starts beating for a man I shouldn't want. Rule one-seek veng...
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After he threw my backpack onto the bed and told me the flight left in one hour, the bastardo thought that'd be the last of me. He didn't offer me anything to eat like the asshole he was but offered me a lift. I'd have cursed him out and found my way to the airport, but the Culo was lucky I didn't know around Russia.
The fucked up thing was he got me a ticket to Switzerland, and I only knew it when he gave me it and told me to leave and never return. Of course, I didn't listen to the cabrón because I made enough money that week to book a flight to Russia and a motel for three nights and change for myself.
The motel is small and white with a twin-sized bed, a tall lamp, a charging port, an air circulator in the wall and a vintage TV under a black carpet. I'll bet the before colour was dark brown, or worse, cream. I don't think about it as I head into the bathroom with a toilet and a shower in front of it.
I paid for this, so I don't even complain. At least the bed was clean, and I had somewhere to shower and sleep. I undress and fetch the towel and soap from my backpack before showering under the cold water. I swear I'll be better than this before the age of twenty-five. I'll have hot showers, a bigger room, fancy clothes and shoes, and unlimited food. I'm patient with it.
After I'm finished in the bathroom, leaving the scent of the purple LUX soap, I enter my bag to get an outfit. I'm going to Marco's apartment tonight to see if I can speak to Giulia. It's not the best move when I still don't know what plan two out of three is. He might kill me this time, close the door in my face and demand I leave if I knew what was best for me. What's good for me is getting rid of the demons haunting me from the past to move forward.
I'm lost in thought and don't realise I've taken the black slip dress I saw at a thrift shop in Geneva and put it on. My back is out, and I don't bother letting my hair up, which covers the thin strap knot behind my neck. As I slide into my kitty heels, I tell myself I'm not dressing to appease anyone despite the scowl neckline and shortness.
I didn't care for stylish clothes, but plain tops or T-shirts with pairs of jeans, but here I am, going to ask to see Giulia. What if Marco isn't at the penthouse? What if he refuses to see me? I lick my dry lips before applying Vaseline to them.
That wasn't a date, so why did it feel like one? I tell myself he doesn't mean anything to me as I hide my money inside the toilet tank after wrapping it inside a ziplock. I took enough money for a bus ride to Marco's hotel and left my room after locking it.
Smokers are outside, and they watch as they sit on their bikes. The air is dense and chilly as I walk to the bus station. I hope I don't get a runny nose because I have to rub my skin to warm myself.
What if I coax Marco into bringing me to Mikhailov's estate? That'll be too suspicious. I doubt they invite any woman to that house. That is harder than it looks. I don't have the floor plan of the house, and I'd have snuck in and done the job if I knew.
