Marco considered me. “I have someone in mind for you. Go to Suite Three. I’ll send her up.”
I got up without asking for details and went upstairs to the private rooms. The suite Marco had chosen had a Roman theme with a round bed surrounded by fake columns. I didn’t care about the surroundings. Fuck, I didn’t care about anything right now.
The door opened and a tall woman with long blonde hair stepped in. She was dressed in a white wrap dress matching the theme of the room. In my exhausted, half-drunk state, she looked like a bad replica of Serafina.
Fuck Marco, the bastard. He could read me like an open book. Only her seductive smile and her sexy movements betrayed her true identity. Accepting her was admitting weakness; sending her back would send the same message. Either way, I was a fucking mess.
“What do you want?” she said in a beckoning voice.
“No talking,” I growled, jerking her against me. “Now suck my cock.”
She fell to her knees and I tilted my head back, staring up at the ceiling adorned with ancient Roman mosaics. I didn’t look at her as she sucked me, didn’t look at her as I fucked her. Images of another blonde woman entered my mind, and my thrusts turned almost vicious as the prostitute knelt before me, but the images were distorted, clouded with bitterness and a sickening need for revenge.
Satisfaction didn’t settle in me even when I came. All that filled me was a sense of defeat.
More than three years later
I couldn’t remember when exactly I saw the first photo of Danilo with a blonde girl at his side. It happened a few months ago, shortly after New Year. I’d been perusing Indianapolis newspaper websites to familiarize myself with my future home, and if I was being honest, to feel closer to my fiancé. My heart had stuttered when the image of Danilo leaving a club with a tall blonde woman had mocked me from my laptop screen. Who was she? Was she the reason he rarely contacted me? Had she taken Serafina’s place in his heart?
My mind had been going a hundred miles per hour. I couldn’t ask Samuel or my parents about it, so I’d done what I always did—I called Anna, asking her for advice.
She’d talked me off the ledge, and the next morning she’d sent me more articles, pieces that had obviously been taken down shortly after their publication, and all of them had pictures of Danilo with blonde girls. Nobody had taken Serafina’s place in Danilo’s heart. With every new conquest, he seemed to look for a replica of her. For the first time, a flicker of anger mingled with my usual feelings of inadequacy.
We weren’t officially engaged yet, but of course everyone in our circles knew we were promised to each other. People had been gossiping about me taking Serafina’s place for what felt like ages. Everyone seemed to mourn her loss, always comparing her ethereal beauty and blonde hair to my less angelic appearance. When I’d been younger, I hadn’t minded having Dad’s brown hair and most days I still didn’t, but sometimes I wanted nothing more than to have Mom’s blonde.
Knowing that Danilo was pursuing blonde girls to remember my sister, had hurt me the first few times, but eventually annoyance had been added to the mix. He’d obviously tried to keep his affairs hush-hush, judging by how quickly every article had been taken down. But now that I knew, the truth lodged itself in my heart like an ever-expanding black hole. Sometimes I managed to talk myself into believing that he just liked blondes and wasn’t looking for Serafina 2.0, but I knew I was lying to myself.
I hadn’t talked to anyone but Anna about my discovery in the three months since then, but my mind had been whirling with thoughts.
Tomorrow was my sixteenth birthday, and Anna and her family would arrive today to celebrate with us. Like last year, Danilo wouldn’t come to visit. I’d seen him a couple of times since he’d spent the night after Fina ran off, but we hadn’t talked more than a few words. I was torn between relief and disappointment. Maybe it was for the best that I wouldn’t have to face him until I’d gotten over his blonde-girl-addiction. But when would that ever happen?
I knew he’d send Emma and a present over for my birthday, then give me a dutiful call. My silly dreams of having a dance with him at one of our social gatherings hadn’t been fulfilled yet.
The moment the bell rang, announcing the arrival of Anna and her family, I ran out of my room, excited about seeing my best friend again. We talked every other day on the phone and messaged every day, but we only saw each other about once a month.
Mom and Dad were already in the foyer. It had taken a while for our families to find our ways back to each other after Fina ran off. I was glad that our parents had worked things out because it allowed me to see Anna. She spotted me on the staircase and grinned widely. She looked stunning in a cute plaid skirt and a plain white T-shirt emblazoned with Gucci. Whenever I saw her and admired her brown hair, I reminded myself that I had almost the same hair color, so why shouldn’t I be happy with it when I loved it on her?
Leonas looked his usual bored, too-cool-for-this-world self while little Beatrice, who was only two, seemed giddy.
I rushed downstairs and hugged Anna before I greeted the rest of them. “Can we go to my room?” I asked the moment I’d fulfilled my host duties.
The look Dad gave me was scolding, but he was smiling. “All
