Chapter 4 #2
“Chiara Mancini, my father is the host!” I tell her calmly with a smile on my face. She looks atme head to toe, inspecting me deeply, and looks at me with a look of discontent.
“Your name would do; I didn’t ask for your family tree!
” She declares coldly and rudely, with a superior tone.
“Hurt before you get hurt, hurt before you get hurt.” My brain screams these words at me incessantly: don’t let them humiliate you; put you down.
You are a Mancini, after all; a Mancini never lets herself be walked on.
“By the way, my name is…” I signal with my hand for her to stop talking, leaving her with a confused look on her face.
“You don’t need to introduce yourself, darling.
After all, you’re not very relevant anyway!
” I say with contempt, casting a look of superiority at her.
“HURT BEFORE YOU GET HURT!” She stares in shock, as if she couldn’t believe my words.
She slowly approaches me and extends her hand in my direction; I take a small step back.
“I request you to keep a respectable distance between us; I don’t want to be forced to call security. ”
“Here she is; for a moment, I thought it was a lie, but it turns out…” I follow the voice with my eyes; it’s Luca.
I look at him, confused, not understanding what he’s saying.
“The evil, spoiled princess that Salvatore Mancini keeps hidden so that she doesn’t attack anyone!
” My face closes up, and the blood starts rushing through my veins. I feel annoyedandhumiliated.
“I’m sorry, but I really don’t understand!” I say with a calm expression, hiding how upset I am inside. I want to scream, to ask him what nonsense he’s spouting at me, but that would only prove his point, so I smile.
“You’ve just proved the rumors are true, that Mancini’s youngest daughter is nothing more than a spoiled little princess with a superiority complex who will do anything to humiliate and trample anyone who stands in her way.”
I clench my hands into fists and hold back the tears that are desperately fighting their way down my cheeks.
So that’s what everyone thinks of me; that’s who I am andwhat I’ve become.
I want to scream and say that this isn’t me, that I’m just fighting not to get hurt, that he and everyone else don’t know me to judge me, that they don’t know anything.
“I don’t know what kind of rumors you’ve been hearing, but I think you’re misinformed.
In any case, it’s irrelevant. I’ve never been interested in the opinions of drug dealers and murderers!
” I coldly state, the first thing that crosses my mind, immediately regretting it when I notice his frozen face and flaming eyes.
I swallow dry and leave the place as quickly as possible.
I run to the nearest bathroom and lock myself in, letting my body slide down the door to the floor. Tears finally run freely down my face, and my lungs begin to tighten. I find it hard to breathe, and honestly, I want to die. Why the hell am I so weak? Why have I always had to be so weak?
I’ve always told myself that I would never care about what other people say, so why am I like this?
What they think of me shouldn’t be so important, so why is it hurting me so much?
Why can’t their words leave my mind? I never wanted to be the bad person or hurt anyone; I just didn’t want to get hurt, and apparently, this has turned me into a witch worthy of fairy tales.
My heart races, and I sob as I try to breathe; tears stain my white dress with the black of my mascara, and I want to disappear.
I rush to the mirror, and I look like hell.
I can’t leave here like this; no one can see me like this.
I take out my phone and send an S.O.S. message to my brothers with my location: I need help.
A few minutes later, I hear a knock on the door, for a moment, I wonder if one of the guests is at the door.
“Chiara, it’s me and Lorenzo, open up!” I hear Vincenzo’s voice and sigh with relief, walking to the door and unlocking it, allowing them to come in. “My God, what happened to you? Have they done something to you? Tell me who it was, and we’ll sort this out now!”
“I’m a disaster…” I say breathlessly, unable to hold back the compulsive crying that insists on coming out of me.
“Calm down, breathe, and tell me what happened; we’re here to help!
” Lorenzo says calmly and clearly, holding my shoulders and making me look into his eyes.
He gives a slight smile and conveys all the calm and reassurance I desperately need.
I take a deep breath and wipe away the tears with the back of my hand, smudging my face even more, and tell them what happened.
“So Luca humiliated you at our father’s party!” Vincenzo says with his fists clenched, loosening his tie a little.
“That’s not the problem, you don’t understand!” I say desperately. “The problem is that everything he said is true; I’m just a disaster waiting to happen. A time bomb that could explode at any moment and embarrass you and the whole family. I’m not good enough; I never will be!”
I feel my eyes sting, and the tears keep rolling down my cheeks.
My brothers are standing in front of me with an expression I can’t quite make out.
I let my body fall to the ground and stare at the pile of white fabric around me.
I don’t know how much time passes, awaking from my thoughts only when the door is shut in a big slam.
The family’s make-up artist and hairdresser walk in quickly, carrying a long red dress and closing the door.
“I could give you a whole speech and try to get it into your pretty little head that everything you’ve said and they say about you is a lie.
But we both know that it won’t do any good right now.
So, Chiara, get up off the floor, put on the dress they’ve brought you, get ready, and leave this bathroom with your head held high.
That’s your duty, you know that, Mancini never demotes themselves!
” Lorenzo says calmly and coolly, extending his hand to me; I take it and stand up, nodding slowly.
A MANCINI NEVER DEMOTES HERSELF. I let the make-up artist and the hairdresser approach me, watching my brothers leave before they help me out of my dress.
I check myself in the mirror, and I see a strong, confident woman.
My hair that was once pinned up is now loose with waves and a few diamond stars scattered all over it, my make-up is heavier, my eyes are black and well-defined, highlighting my green eyes, and my lipstick is blood red.
I don’t look like I was crying desperately just a few minutes ago, not in that long red dress with a full-length slit, the neckline that, although modest, still catches the eye, and the fabric hugs my waist, emphasizing it; I don’t look like a spoiled princess, I look like a queen.
I leave the bathroom with my head held high and a relaxed face.
I feel all the eyes falling on me, but mine are only on one person, Luca; I want to show him that he didn’t bring me down; he hasn’t affected me.
He may even call me a spoiled princess, but this princess is made of ice, and no one is going to make her melt.
I walk toward my dad, who is looking at me, confused.
I smile at him and make it look like this was always the plan.
“Wow, Chiara, you look…” he says, still looking at me, perhaps worried that I’ve taken off the dress he chose for me.
“I think the word you’re looking for is dazzling, Daddy!” I playfully say, smirking, leaving a kiss on his cheek and seeing a smile appear on his lips.
Suddenly, the lights go out, making me jump and grab him, letting go only when the familiar melody of the Happy Birthday song reaches my ears.
A large cake is placed in front of us, with the candles lit.
My brothers are next to us, and I can see Mom and Grannie smiling at us; I happily smile back, and Grannie winks at me, looking at me as if she could read my soul and know all my secrets.
I wink back, grinning, because I know that even the worst of my secrets are safe with her.
As soon as the candles are blown out, the noise of the fireworks explodes everywhere, sending everyone scurrying into the garden; I watch the waiters take the birthday cake outside.
But I can’t move; I stay in the same place as if my feet were rooted to the floor.
I look up where the chandeliers hang, large and imposing.
Deadly, all it takes is for one wire to come loose; if just one of those chandeliers falls, if the position is right, I could die in seconds, and then it could all be over.
It’s annoying that most of the times I just need everything to stop.
Sometimes, I just wish that everything would stopindefinitely until everything gets better, maybe definitively.
“Did you decide that pretending to be an innocent princess wasn’t enough anymore?” I hear a voice from the distance and gradually getting closer, knowing it’s Luca who’s speaking. I remain still, contemplating a possible tragic death.
“Yes, I think you’re right; I think that’s how villains are born…” I declare, finally looking at him. He stares at me, raising his eyebrow and confused, making me smile because I can finally see something beyond his icy exterior.
“What do you mean?” He asks in a whisper, as it’s just the two of us in the room, making it easy to hear.
“From accusations or ill-considered words, I’ve always felt that villains are just misunderstood; you’re just the villain from someone else’s point of view, and life is made of choices.
You decide which side you want to be on; I remember reading somewhere that “If only all women knew their power of seduction. Perhaps many wouldn’t be out there suffering for love.
There are still women who haven’t realized the power they have over a man’s mind.
They haven’t noticed that they’re capable of driving them crazy without the slightest effort.
Women should pay more attention… Only she, “exclusively, “has the power to both uplift and ruin a man’s life!”.
He looks at me inexpressively, clearly not knowing what I’m getting at.
“I think you’re right, Luca; as much as I try and want to, I’m not a good girl, so maybe I should just let myself be carried away and ruin several men’s lives. ”
I don’t let him answer; I head outside to the garden with just one thought in mind: if it’s a villain they want, it’s a villain they’ll get.
I have my head held high and a superiority look on my face, look around, feeling the prying eyes of men toward my body, and I smile.
I’m going to ruin them until they’re all on their knees and have no way of hurting me, ever!