Chapter 24 Nicole #2
Boyana gives me a look meant to be part concern, part curiosity. It only makes me want to wipe it right off her face. “I don’t know if it’s true. I wanted to tell you myself, so you don’t hear it from someone else.”
I clutch the edge of the sink. “My father’s a businessman, fully aware of what he’s doing. Every bit of that is a lie.”
“Yeah, of course.” Her tone lacks conviction. “It’s just… the twins seem sure. And I heard them say something else. Something you’re really not going to like…”
I whip my head at her. “What?”
“Nothing specific…” She lifts both hands in a defensive gesture. “It’s just… they’re always gossiping, but last night Misha said…”—Boyana shrugs—“that the Little Baroness was done for.”
My pulse pounds in my ears, and I tighten my grip on the sink.
Boyana remains silent, but she doesn’t seem sorry for what she said.
I offer her a strained smile, my lips pressed together. “Thanks for telling me, sweetheart. But it’s all nonsense. Actually, I’ve got a surprise for all of you… But I’ll share it in a few days. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make a quick call.”
I spin on my heels and storm out of the bathroom, chin held high. So that’s why those bitches low-key attacked me tonight. They think my social standing is slipping.
How the hell did they find out? Didn’t my father say no one knew about his troubles?
The smell of sugar and champagne drifts from the open kitchen as I walk by. I glance inside for just a second—
And the scene imprints itself on my mind. The twins’ cake. Three layers, covered in gold glitter and sugar flowers. Two crowns on top. One gold. One silver.
My steps slow down. Then stop altogether.
I double back, slipping into the kitchen to check if no one’s around. The cake mesmerizes me—every ribbon, every delicate flourish, handcrafted by some top pastry chef. The two crowns are perfect. Flawless.
I’ve lost control to Gaetano, but I’ll be damned if I lose control of my social circle.
I reach out and nudge one of the crowns with my fingertip. It wobbles… then collapses, crushing the sugar flowers beneath it and landing on the cake’s base. The second crown falls just as gracefully as the first.
Then I grab the bowl of red sauce sitting to the side and pour it right over the center. The thick, blood-red syrup drips down the white frosting, over the gold shimmer, and over the plastic figures.
Once again, perfect. I never imagined “sweet revenge” could be so literal.
They might think the Little Baroness is done for, but tonight, they won’t receive crowns either.
Every rebellion has to be crushed at its root.
I step back, careful not to let my heels click. At the door, I pivot on my toes, ready to make a clean exit—
And almost crash straight into Gaetano, who’s blocking the doorway.
He glances at the cake behind me, arching an eyebrow. “What has my little vandal created this time?”
My heart sinks to my feet. With all that frosting around and my own distraction, I didn’t notice the shift in the air. “Jesus, Gaetano! You scared the hell out of me.”
He steps forward, but not enough to let me pass. “That’s usually what I do.”
“See…” I run a hand across my forehead.. “I need to get out of here. Right now.”
His lips curve upward. “Because you damaged the birthday girls’ cake?”
I grit my teeth. Of course, he’s going to roast me, slow and steady. I take a breath and try diplomacy. “Gaetano, this isn’t what it—”
The sentence lodges in my throat as familiar voices echo from the hallway, loud enough to compete with the music coming from the garden.
They’re getting closer.
Shit. That’s all I need. As if the twins weren’t already itching for a reason to drag my name through the mud…
I scan the counter, desperate for something—anything—to fix the mess. There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing!
My heart pounds against my ribs. I whirl around, checking the rest of the kitchen. A hiding spot. A quick excuse. Maybe I could say the cake was already ruined when I walked in? Even use Gaetano’s face as inspiration to describe the perpetrator?
Gaetano watches me, head tilted, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
Heat rises to my cheeks. “Is this funny to you?” I hiss.
“Hilarious,” he says a split second before his body dissolves into shadows.
I curl my fingers into fists, digging in my nails. Now, I’m alone. Completely alone—
Two arms grab me from behind. Panic floods my chest. I open my mouth to scream, but a hand smothers the sound. My back slams into a solid chest. Fear prickles across my skin. But then I catch the scent…
“Quiet,” Gaetano whispers in my ear, guiding me into the shadows and tightening his hold until my back is pressed to his chest. A shiver runs through me.
The click of heels on the tile, combined with familiar voices, echoes into the kitchen.
“…because I don’t want anything ruining the night. I have no intention of dealing with drunk idiots.” Misha.
“I told you we shouldn’t have invited them,” Mariе replies, her voice thick with annoyance.
“Ugh… if I didn’t invite all the people I didn’t want to invite, it’d just be us two.”
“Well, there’d be some people. Who else is going to see our new dresses?”
They laugh.
“I know one person who definitely wouldn’t have been here. Little Baroness… Miss ‘this dress was made for longer legs.’ Do hers reach the heavens or something?”
“I hate that skank,” Misha hisses, venom sharp in her voice. “Thank God we won’t have to put up with her anymore.”
“Soon. Very soon.”
I freeze, rage swelling hot in my chest.
Misha turns toward me, shoulders squared as though she’s about to strike. I hold my breath, bracing for impact. But she stares right through me, as if I’m not even there.
I glance down at my hands, my body, and the warped reflections in the chrome cabinet handles.
Nothing.
“Magic, Nicole,” Gaetano whispers behind me.
I don’t have time to marvel because Marie’s scream cuts through the kitchen. I flinch.
“What the hell is this?” she shrieks, pointing at the cake.
Misha rushes to her side, her face draining of color. “That’s… that’s… Someone smudged the crowns with… Fingers! Someone put their fingers in our cake, Marie!”
Marie flails her arms like an outraged turkey. “How is this even possible?! Someone’s trying to sabotage our party.”
“On our special day!” Misha clutches her head.
I press my lips together, trying to hold back the laugh threatening to escape. Marie is the first to recover. She steps in front of the ruined cake, thoughtfully dabbing her lips with a finger. “This wasn’t random, Misha.”
“You think?!” her sister snaps. “Call security. No, call the police.”
“No one’s going to take us seriously over a cake…”
“It’s us, Marie! Of course they will. Don’t touch anything We’ll ruin the evidence.”
Damn! I can barely hold back my laughter. I start to shake.
Before I give in, my knees buckle, and I’m swallowed in darkness. I know this feeling. He’s teleporting me.
I land on solid ground, surrounded by a thick, silver veil. Gaetano’s warmth clings to me, giving me a sense of safety. But then his hands fall away, and panic rises in my chest.
The veil thins, revealing a vast midnight sky dotted with a thousand stars.
The rocky ground beneath my feet stretches out to the horizon.
It’s dark and rugged, but between its cracks grow trees with black trunks that twist and bloom into thick canopies of deep blue petals.
The colors are vivid and alive, reflecting the stars above.
I turn to ask where we are. My stomach flips.
I’m standing on a high plateau and, from my vantage point, a wide, silent river flows below, nestled between ridges of gray stone and dark grass.
Yet it doesn’t move like water. It flows like silk.
A woven rainbow unraveling—violet, gold-orange, milky white, emerald-gold, and more, colors spilling into one another.
From time to time, delicate, ghostly shapes rise from the surface and drift along with the current.
A strange, overwhelming sense of awe rushes through me, lighting up every nerve in my body.
“The River of Forgotten Dreams,” Gaetano says, stepping up beside me.