Chapter 35 Nicole
Nicole
The light outside the window has changed at least twice. I run my fingers across the cool surface of the desk. Images flicker in my mind: the castle, the shadows, the numbers… Him.
My heart flips. I slam my fist onto the desk so hard that pain shoots up my arm, shakes my shoulder, and settles in my chest. I’m startled by how good it feels.
That’s what happens when you let your guard down. You become the prey.
My attention shifts to the door handle that hasn’t moved since yesterday.
I crave my father’s hatred; it weighs more than his slaps and is the only thing that brings me any kind of satisfaction.
When his gaze pierces through me with contempt, a sense of victory rises within me.
His hatred sustains me, filling the hollow spaces Gaetano tore open.
My father’s hatred is like a rope around my neck, but it’s what keeps me standing. And the best part? He doesn’t know his time to despise me is running out. Too bad I won’t be there when he finds out his daughter is gone and the deal with the Deliberovs is off.
As if he heard my thoughts, the lock turns from the outside. My muscles tense, bracing for another slap.
When the door opens, it’s to reveal my mother. She lingers in the doorway, stealing a glance over her shoulder before focusing on me. “He‘s out right now. Quick! Grab a bag and go to a friend’s place!”
My fingers freeze against the wooden surface of the desk, taking in her appearance. Her hair is loose and messy. She’s not wearing one of her fashionable loungewear sets, but a robe, crookedly cinched at the waist.
“You need to leave now. Before he comes back,” she says.
I expect to hear my father’s heavy steps behind her.
When I don’t move, she inches closer. “Please, Nicole. I don’t know if he’ll be back soon. He was meeting with an investor, and he’s supposed to stay at the office afterward, but I’m not sure…”
“You want me… to run away?” It doesn’t make sense. My mother is always keen to obey my father. She always takes his side. Never mine.
“I haven’t seen him this angry in a long time.
I think the Deliberovs might’ve pulled out of the deal…
” A dark surge of satisfaction spreads inside me.
“Please, Nicole. Pack a bag and disappear. Wait for the storm to pass.” She reaches into the pocket of her robe and pulls out my ID and a wad of cash.
I lower my gaze to her outstretched hand. Is my mother…trying to help me?
“I’m sure he’ll calm down soon, but it’s better if you stay with a friend for a while…”
Is she really worried about me?
I glance at the crumpled bills. She still thinks money can save me. How could I ever tell her that even if I escape my father, nothing can save me from the Black Joker?
“Please, Niki…” she whispers.
My mind drifts to the illusion in the cave—my father humiliating me; my mother trying to protect me. Did I feel her support in my heart all along? Or had I only been hoping for it?
She presses the money into my hand. “Where will you go? To Boyana’s? No… It’s better you don’t tell me.”
My heart stirs for a second. I don’t know why, but I say, “Mom… Boyana’s not my friend.”
A flash of surprise crosses her expression. Perhaps the same confusion I also feel. I step closer than I’ve dared in years. Shadows from Gaetano’s castle flit through my mind. My throat burns with all the words I’ve never spoken. “If I leave now, I probably won’t come back.”
My mother closes her eyes for a moment. When she opens them again, they’re red-rimmed but clearer than ever. “I understand. I knew it was a matter of time. You were never the type to give in. You’ve always been so strong…”
My breath catches in my chest. She thinks I’m strong?
All this time, I’d believed she saw nothing in me, that I was just part of the stage my father directed. Now, her words flicker through my mind like fireflies in the dark.
Without saying a word, she hugs me. Her touch is tentative at first, then her arms wrap around me with resolve.
Her presence eases the tension in my throat.
She smells familiar, a scent that takes me back years, when her embrace used to feel like home.
She holds me tighter, then pulls away. “There’s no time.
I’m afraid if you stay, he’ll force you to marry that revolting Daniel… ”
How do I tell her he can’t force me, because I won’t exist a week from now? I can’t.
“Take a taxi! He’s having your car watched.”
Her unexpected warmth lingers on my skin. For a fleeting moment, it overpowers my need for pain, for the cruel comfort of my father’s contempt.
At last, I let my emotions break through the dark shell around my soul. I rush to the wardrobe and grab a small duffel bag, hands trembling as I stuff it with whatever clothes I get my hands on. I scan the room, looking for anything else I might need. My phone’s probably still with my father.
I shift my focus to the desk, pausing for a moment.
Holding my bag, I hurry over and crawl underneath it.
Pushing aside the hanging fabric, I find it: the dagger I threw earlier.
Without letting my mother see, I slip it into the bag.
I don’t know exactly what this object is, but I can’t risk leaving it behind for my mother or one of the maids to stumble upon and somehow end up teleported to Gaetano’s castle.
On my way out the door, I touch my mom’s shoulder. “Thank you, Mom.”
She nods. My strength has left me, and I can barely move my legs. Yet, I sprint down the stairs, each step echoing through the quiet house.
Outside, the blazing sunlight hits my face, blinding me for a moment. I pause in the middle of the street to catch my breath, while the world keeps moving. I glance back at the house. There, behind the sheer curtain of my bedroom window, my mother stands.
I can’t escape, but let her believe I have. Let her feel she made a difference, that I disappeared by choice, with strength, not fear. It’s better this way than leaving her as a mother grieving for a daughter lost to shadows.
As I walk down the street, an idea comes to mind. Mom’s determination could actually help save a life. Pain has clouded my judgment for too long to see it until now.
* * *
Daria opens the door. “Nicole! You’re driving me crazy, girl!
You haven’t answered your phone in two days.
I was about to head over to your place. You said you’d made it through the second trial, and then I heard nothing—” Her gaze flicks to the duffel bag in my hand.
“Niki…” she whispers. “Come in. We’ll grab some ice cream, and you can fill me in. ”
I swallow the lump rising in my throat. “I’m not here for support, but to apologize.”
“Apologize? What are you talking about?”
I have to say it. “You can’t beat the Black Joker, Daria. It’s not possible. By the end of the year, he’ll take your soul.”
Maybe more than that. I picture him dragging her into the castle. I envision her in his arms, eyes full of na?ve trust. The thought of him doing to her everything he did to me sparks a hot, poisonous jealousy in my chest…
No. Daria’s not a fool like I was. She won’t fall for his games. If anyone can slip away from him, it’s her.
“Unless we figure out something,” I say. The words come out with a certainty that almost startles me. “It’s too late for me, but I swear I’ll use every second I have left trying to destroy him…for you. We’ll start together, and you’ll have until winter to find a way out.”
* * *
We spend the night in the room that used to belong to Daria’s parents.
For hours, we lie in bed in the dark. My heart remains heavy with pain and fear, but now that I’ve told her everything—everything—a strange sense of calm settles in.
Soon, it’ll be over, and none of the things tormenting me will matter anymore.
But not before I figure out how to save Daria.
The rhythm of her breathing, her gentle energy—her very presence—grounds me in a time when we were kids and everything was just a game. Right now, it’s easy to pretend that all is well.
“Aren’t you scared?” I whisper into the darkness.
“Scared of what, Niki?” There’s something both unsettling and comforting in the softness of her voice.
“Your life could end in six months. And it’s like… it doesn’t even shake you.”
She stays silent for a moment, then takes a deep breath.
“In six months, I might not be alive, anyway. I can’t fear what might or might not happen in the future.
My parents used to dream of building a house outside the city.
My mom wanted to learn to garden, and my dad intended to buy an ATV and ride around the fields.
He said he’d be a cool old doctor one day. Like Dr. House!”
Her words evoke images in my mind. I picture her parents as I last saw them, years ago, then visualize them the way she describes. My eyes burn.
“They planned to work for ten more years, save up, and then find the perfect place to build that house,” Daria says. “No one expected my mom to get cancer while they were still waiting for the ‘right time’ to chase their dream.”
“Did I ever tell you I’m sorry?” I whisper.
“You don’t need to. We all have a path, and it ends exactly where it’s meant to. I believe that when we’re born, we already know how long we’ll be here. Or at least our higher self does. No one leaves unless they’ve made that choice, just…on a different level.”
I don’t fully understand her words, but I don’t want to leave.
There’s so much I haven’t yet done. In truth, I’ve wasted years on things that never moved me.
Now, I long to watch the sea, see a dolphin, and sketch it.
I want to drive a convertible through some tropical country, stopping at random places just to take photos, maybe even paint them right then and there.
Daria chuckles. “How am I supposed to know what epic plan my higher self has while I’m here making my own? So I don’t make any. Life is what’s happening at this moment.”
I wipe a tear from my cheek. “I wish I had your way of looking at things.”
“I’ll teach it to you,” she says.
I can feel her smiling in the dark. I can’t return it. “I won’t be around for that, Daria…”
“You’re not going to die. Not this week. If we have to, we’ll turn the world upside down tomorrow until we find a way out. I’ll call Julieta again. She shut me out after the first time, but I’ll make her listen. And if she doesn’t, we’ll find someone else who knows something.”
No matter how hopeful her voice sounds, my body sinks further into surrender. I lack the strength to dig or fight. But I have to—for her.
Daria checks her phone on the nightstand. “It’s almost three. Let’s try to get some sleep. Things make more sense with a rested mind.”
I agree, but my mind won’t quiet down. My thoughts keep spinning. Maybe she’s right about everything. Two weeks ago, I was planning my rise to the top of an empire. Now? I’m strategizing my death. And there are still a few days left—just enough time to walk through Hell.
Maybe making plans really is for fools. The smart ones know life can screw you over at any second.
The way Daria’s breathing changes tells me she’s asleep. I want to fall asleep, too, but I can’t. Every time I close my eyes, I see the face of my executioner, and instead of fearing it, my heart flinches like a complete idiot.