Chapter 49

Chapter 49

　　It was awfully quiet in the house. Too silent. I was a man who enjoyed the quiet, but this kind of silence rang too loudly, bounced off the walls in ominous echoes.

　　I found Sybil asleep on the sofa. Shaking her, she came to but her eyes remained unfocused. "I'm sorry, master. I must have fallen asleep."

　　"That does not just sleep. I told you to be wary around Giya!" I snarled, releasing her. "Where are Daniele and Simona?"

　　Sybil blinked, then her eyes widened with fear. I began running up the stairs then froze on the second-floor landing. Small bloody paw prints covered the beige carpet.

　　My heart clenched so tightly, for a moment I was sure I had a heart attack. It ran in our family, after all. I stormed toward Simona's bedroom, ripping the door open, then stumbled toward the crib. Simona lay unmoving and everything in me stilled. In the one second I considered her death, I understood why Giya wanted to kill herself after losing Andrea. I wrenched Simona up so fast, she came awake with an ear-splitting scream. God, it was the most beautiful sound in the world. I clutched her to my chest despite her relentless cries and kissed the top of her head over and over again.

　　Loulou barked then squeaked. Simona in my arms walked out of the room. Daniele stood in the corridor a few steps from his mother's bedroom, clamping Loulou against his chest. The dog squirmed wildly. As I came closer, I saw its fur was covered in blood and so was its muzzle. Daniele's arms, too, were red. I rushed toward him and knelt down, holding Simona in one arm as I touched his cheek. "Daniele, what happened?" My fingers flew over his small body, looking for injuries, but he was unscathed.

　　"Found Loulou. Where's Mom?"

　　The dog snapped wildly until Daniele finally dropped it. It rushed through the crack of the door into Giya's bedroom. Daniele made a move as if to follow. I grabbed his wrist. Cold dread pierced my every bone. "No. Were you in there?"

　　"Mom was asleep. Is she awake now?"

　　My throat clogged up. "No. She's still sleeping. Go downstairs to Sybil. She needs to clean you."

　　Daniele jutted his chin out. "I want Mom."

　　"Daniele, go downstairs."

　　Slowly, he backed away then disappeared down the stairs. Simona had quieted in my hold. She was too small to understand, and yet I couldn't take her into the bedroom with me knowing what I'd find.

　　I returned her to her crib before I slowly made my way to Giya's bedroom. Pushing open the door, I slipped inside. A familiar scent drifted into my nose; it had never meant anything to me, but from this day on it would. Even knowing what I'd find, the sight slammed into me like a punch to the gut. I approached the bed slowly. One of Giya's arms hung limply down the side of the bed, still dripping blood onto the hardwood floor. Loulou perched beneath it, licking the sticky fingertips eagerly. It sat in a puddle of blood—the amount of which told me that I didn't have to call an ambulance. My business required I knew how much blood a human body could lose before I needed to take countermeasures to prevent a premature death—before all the necessary information was extracted from the person.

　　Giya was gone.

　　Blood kept dripping down on Loulou, and the goddamn thing kept licking it up eagerly. Enraged, I snatched the dog up by its neck, staggered toward the door, and tossed it into the hallway. It landed with a squeak before it dashed off.

　　I stared down at my blood-covered hands then at the lifeless body of my wife. Slowly, I closed the door in case Daniele came by. A bloody handprint remained on the white-lacquered wood.

　　Daniele didn't need to see more of this. I turned back to the gruesome scene. The red roses one of the maids had bought for Giya as a gift for our eighth anniversary lay crumpled beside the limp body. Red roses to match the blood-stained sheets and her white dress. A desperate attempt to mend a marriage that couldn't be mended. Proof of my own failure.

　　Seconds ticked by as I regarded my wife. Even lifeless, she was still beautiful. She'd chosen to wear her wedding dress when she killed herself. It still fits her perfectly. The crystals on her bodice glittered in the glow of the lamp. A few of them were sprinkled with blood, making them appear like rubies. They matched the gemstones in her necklace. She'd even curled her hair the same way she'd worn it on the day we made our vows. How long had she planned this?

　　Picking up my phone, I called Father. I rarely called him after dinnertime. He and Mother spent their evenings watching classics or playing backgammon. Now that he'd retired, they had time for it. Their love had been something I strived for as a young man, before marriage, before Giya.

　　"Leo, don't you have a dinner reservation with Giya?"

　　A dinner to flaunt our failed marriage in public. "Gaia is dead."

　　Silence. "Can you repeat that?"

　　"Gaia is dead."

　　"Leo—"

　　"Someone needs to clean this up before the kids see it. Send a clean-up crew and inform Luca."

　　I hung up. A sheet of paper on the bed beside Giya's body caught my eye. I crept toward the bed. Death didn't bother me, not when I was the harbinger of it so often, but every fiber of my being revolted against going anywhere near the corpse of my wife. The opposite arm that wasn't hanging off the side of the bed was draped over her chest. The blood from the slit wrist had soaked the fabric of her wedding dress. Her lifeless brown eyes fixed on the ceiling, even in death they were full of accusation. I closed her eyelids then picked up her last letter with shaking fingertips.

　　Her elegant handwriting and the expensive stationery promised a love letter, but of course, it was nothing like that.

　　My breathing had slowed as I read Giya's letter to me. I couldn't move, could only stare down at her last words. I wasn't sad about losing her. I'd never had her to begin with. She'd been Andrea's, even after his death. I felt a deep sadness over what this meant for Daniele and Simona and a raging madness toward the people who were responsible for this mess. Toward her parents who'd forced her into a marriage with me, even though they'd known the truth. It was incest. Their love had been doomed like ours, but her parents had let me run into an open knife, hadn't warned me when I allowed Andrea to spend every day alone with my wife.

　　A knock sounded but I didn't react. The door opened then. Faro slipped in and appeared beside me. He said something but his words were muffled. He took the letter from me. I let him. It didn't matter if he read it.

　　"Leo!" He shook me hard, and finally, my focus snapped to him. Behind him, my father leaned heavily on his walking stick, looking furious as he scanned the letter.

　　"Don't you dare feel guilty, Leo," he muttered. "That's what she wanted. She cheated on you, probably helped her brother leak information to the bikers, tried to kill your children. She's not worth a flicker of your guilt."

　　Faro met my gaze. "You didn't choose to marry her either. You both were thrown into this marriage for tactical purposes. You aren't any guiltier than she is."

　　And yet I felt it. "I don't know how much Daniele saw of this."

　　Father grimaced. "He won't understand either way."

　　"I locked that damn dog into the storage room. It was covered in blood," Faro said.