Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Our illusions are sacred to us.
Because they are born in our traumas and transform into protective mechanisms that keep our psyche sane.
The funny thing about insanity, though?
It gives you the freedom to be who you truly are.
Except it comes with a cost.
And that cost is usually never worth it.”
Lavender
Lavender
“Miss Wright. We’ve arrived home,” Gordon announces once he parks the car, and I sit up straight, rubbing my forehead as an intense headache hits me with full force.
“Home sweet home,” I whisper without much enthusiasm, unfastening my seat belt and grabbing my purse along with two books I loaned from the library. “I’m not going anywhere tonight, so you can rest, Gordon.”
“Rough day, Miss Wright?”
“Lavender,” I remind him, and he chuckles, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening when he smiles at me in the rearview mirror. “Tomorrow, I only have one class at noon.”
“I’ll be here.”
Right.
When we first moved to New York, I dreamed about using public transportation and exploring the town on my own. That’s another privilege no one wishes to grant me because, due to my psychological issues, I’m high risk. No one can predict how I’ll behave among the crowds.
Looking out the window of the car, I study the huge, modern building, located in the most luxurious part of the city.
Most of the people passing by wear expensive clothes and carry designer bags, while their jewelry shines under the streetlights, drawing attention to the aura of sophistication and wealth they exude.
They also love their morning runs and coffee breaks, walking their dogs, and chatting endlessly with their neighbors when they aren’t busy on their phones.
Our neighborhood was the only place my brothers allowed me to roam freely, so I had to engage in small talk, and honestly, I only enjoyed the ones that involved their dogs.
Most of them are my age, and to see them all achieve so much while my life stood still… It’s the kind of pain I try to avoid, so I didn’t really form any friendships here either.
I should just write loner on my forehead and be done with it.
A man wearing a black uniform rushes out of the building through the revolving doors, nods at Gordon in greeting, and opens my door.
“Miss Wright.” The doorman beams at me, holding up an umbrella to shield me from the drizzle falling from the sky and tapping soundly on the wet asphalt. “Good evening.”
“Good evening, Rob.” I wave at Gordon. “Good night.”
In ten short strides, we enter the building, and the spectacular interior design once again inspires awe in me, because the idea of living in such a gorgeous setting still surprises me after years spent in just a single room with white walls.
Jazz music plays softly, blending with the light hum from the reception desk and a TV in the lounging area, where there are two couches, snacks on the table, and a small bar to the side with all kinds of drinks.
The flowery scents waft into my nostrils, creating a rather inviting atmosphere, while the streetlights streaming through various windows cast a dim glow on the golden marble around us.
One of the receptionists standing by the front desk waves and greets me.
“Miss Wright. We have mail for you.” Marissa comes closer and gives me a sealed golden envelope with just my name on it.
She must read my silent question because she elaborates.
“It was delivered here earlier by a courier. We scanned it for electronics. It’s safe. ”
Rafael owns this entire building. My brothers are billionaires for a reason, and after what happened here with his wife, I’m not surprised they are extra cautious about checking every delivery.
“Thank you.” I take it, put it inside one of the books, and go to the elevator in the right corner, away from all the others.
Pressing the button, I wait for it to arrive, only to groan inwardly when the clicking of heels echoes through the space, followed by Marissa saying, “Good evening, Miss Scarlett.”
“Hi! That dress looks great on you, Marissa.”
“Oh, thank you.”
I press the elevator button once again and still when an amused voice speaks up next to me. “It won’t come any faster. I’m afraid talking to me is unavoidable at this point.”
I plaster a fake smile and face the beautiful dark-haired beauty with the kindest brown eyes, who seems to know all your insides. She’s wearing a long pencil dress that showcases her hourglass figure in all its glory, and the only thing slightly less perfect on her is her pointy nose.
Scarlett is Rafael’s top lawyer at his firm and his right hand, without whom the company wouldn’t function.
She’s legendary in and out of court, winning most of her cases and earning the respect of her peers.
Even men are afraid of her, and her no-bullshit attitude solves most cases before they can even reach court.
She’s also my brother’s close friend who adores his wife, and she has an apartment in the building that she uses whenever she stays in New York, since she mainly lives in Boston.
Kind, successful, and mysterious.
No one knows much about her life, and the woman never dates, despite men constantly trying to get her attention.
Last I heard, she turned down a billionaire who bought an entire island for her.
“Hi, Scarlett.”
“Hi, girl. How are you?”
“I’m good.”
The elevator finally arrives. The silver doors slide open, and we step inside.
I wince at our reflection in the mirrored wall, which point out the contrast between her perfection and my imperfection.
Tearing my gaze away from it, I spin around to avoid it and go to press her floor number when she presses the P button instead. “I need to talk to you about your inheritance.”
“Doesn’t Rafael handle all the things that have to do with my inheritance?”
“We’ve agreed it would be better if I represented you from now on.”
“What? Why?” Anger sweeps through me as my brothers once again decided something behind my back. Who gives them the right to make decisions of such caliber for me anyway?
I’m not officially under their conservatorship, and I don’t have any diagnoses on my record. I have my rights, dammit, but my brothers seem to give zero shits about it.
“Breathe, Lavender, breathe.” It takes me a moment to realize I’m frozen, and I exhale. “I understand it’s frustrating.”
“No offense, Scarlett, you don’t.” Maybe this day tested all the patience I’ve had, starting with that disastrous lunch, then the whole Levi situation that I still refuse to examine, and now Scarlett.
A person can only fake and hide for so long until all the ugly starts to come out, and I’m reaching my limit.
We arrive on my floor, or rather, Rafael’s penthouse, since he graciously agreed to let me live here on my own a month ago after Emmaline and Phoenix convinced me that I had to learn to take care of myself.
“To tell you the truth, it was my idea, and I brought it up with Rafael.”
Walking into the spacious apartment, I love the huge window that opens up to a view of the entire New York skyline from this high up, when it’s not cloudy, that is.
One of the reasons I fell in love with it was that I could stare at it for hours, thinking about nothing, too mesmerized by its beauty.
I ask, “What was your idea? To find another way to control my life and finances? Or make yet another life-changing decision without me?” I throw my purse and books on the table, slipping off my shoes and sinking my feet into plushy slippers.
“Oh, I know. Maybe it was your idea to show me how little my older brothers actually respect me.”
She ignores my outburst, and her brow rises.
“You’ve changed your apartment a lot.” She goes into the spacious living room, which was once almost empty.
Now it has a wide purple couch with two chairs, and a small table between them with a vase of fresh lavender.
A flat-screen TV hangs on the wall opposite the furniture, creating the perfect spot for resting.
The purple curtains, billowing in the light breeze from the open balcony door, finish the composition.
Rafael used to have a bar in the right corner with different brands of whiskey and a coffee machine. I removed it all since the smell of alcohol makes me sick, and instead turned it into my tea heaven.
It has pots, different brands of tea, along with water and small healthy snacks to munch on while I’m reading or watching something.
He also preferred to dine in the living room, so he had a round table there, but I found it useless, and since I rarely, if ever, eat at home, I got rid of it.
The only thing I haven’t touched is the bookshelf filled with Greek mythology books, and I added some of my favorites to the collection.
A small hallway leads to three doors, two rooms, and a kitchen.
I plan to use the latter sometime in the future because cooking is on my list of things to learn.
According to a psychological book I’ve read, every adult needs to know how to cook, even if they don’t plan to cook for themselves or their families.
For now, I’m still not allowed anywhere near knives and boiling water.
“It’s lovely here.” Scarlett walks to the chair and sits before taking a document from her briefcase.
“Quite cozy, I’d say.” Part of me hates her approval because my penthouse is something that belongs to me, at least in my mind.
I prefer for everyone to stay away, so the idea that she saw something she shouldn’t is killing me. “First, you need to sign this.”
“What’s that?” I grab it from her and flip it open, scanning the thing. “It’s a contract?”
“Yes. I can’t officially be your lawyer without your permission.”
“Why? My brothers couldn’t sign it for me?”
“Stop being grumpy and sign it.” She gets a pen, too, and gives it to me. “The sooner you do it, the quicker I’ll leave.”