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We walked down the hallway in utter silence, my heels the only sound that could be heard as they clicked against the marble tiles.
We walked into his study, and as soon as we crossed the threshold he let go of my arm and walked straight to the bar cart to pour us some drinks. His study was what I had expected. Dark wood floors and furniture. A very dull color palette of black and brown. The curtains were drawn back, showcasing the large floor-to-ceiling windows that displayed the backyard.
“Married life suits you, my dear.” Felipe walked back to me and offered me a glass of scotch. I stared at the brown poison in his hand and traced the length of his arm to meet his gaze. “Drink?”
“I don’t drink cheap liquor,” I quipped as I stared into the eyes of my father-in-law.
“It’s a shame, your father and I once enjoyed a bottle similar to this at your birth.” He withdrew his hand and placed the glass back onto the cart. “I must say, you are far less friendly than he ever was.”
In all the words that my father had been described as by his colleagues, friendly was not one of them. He didn’t trust anyone beyond his immediate circle, and Felipe Valdez was far removed from that small bunch. So that told me all I needed to know about him.
“I never knew my father and you were so close.” There was something about this man that I did not trust. I didn’t know if it was death that lurked in the deepest parts of his pupils, or if it was simply the fact, he just made my skin scrawl. The man looked like a pedophile.
“Close wouldn’t be the word I would use to describe our relationship. We were somewhat symbiotic. He relied on me and I relied on him, yet we never fully trusted each other as friends should. After all, I was a crook and he was a fraud.”
“You mean to say that you piggybacked off of his success. I hardly think that relationship can be constituted as symbiotic,” I countered. I crossed my arms over my chest and walked to the bookshelves that lined one side of the wall. There were an array of different encyclopedias and first-edition reads that I was sure he knew nothing about. The man only liked to portray the image of a well-put-together man, but we all knew he was nothing but a fraud. He copied all those above him, including my father, trying to emulate his success and leadership, but he always ended up failing dismally.
“I see you have taken a liking to my collection.” Felipe walked up beside me. “Do you read, Mrs. Valdez?”
When he said my name like that it made me want to hurl. His pungent scent of cigarettes and leather filled my lungs due to his closeness.
“Yes, I do.” I moved along the bookshelf, fingering the spine of various books. “I’m more inclined to reach for Shakespeare than anything else. His stories hold various truths of how the human heart and mind work.”
The air cooled as I continued to look over his collection. It was very impressive, but I knew that these books were merely for decoration. The man was about as well read as a druggie on meth.
“I find the story of Julius Caesar to be quite fascinating, if I’m honest.” Felipe looked over his collection, searching for something. When he found it, he grabbed the book from the shelf and showed it to me. “He led one of the greatest empires known to man. He was a great leader, documented by historians to be the blueprint of what politicians try to be. Charismatic, intelligent, and loyal, much like your father, actually.”
Something shifted in the air. The room became darker, and this reptilian-like coldness filtered into my bloodstream.
“Their stories are eerily similar. Both were executed in cold blood for fabricated crimes against their systems.” He opened the book and flipped through the pages. “Caesar saw a new vision for Rome, a vision that many did not agree with and felt threatened by. Imagine, your most trusted and beloved advisers assassinating you in cold blood, all to keep their power. Humans… such selfish and greedy creatures we are.”
He slammed the book close and smiled at me. Staring into his eyes was like looking into the eyes of a serpent.
“Their systems run much like ours, don’t you think?”
“What exactly are you implying, Felipe? Speak boldly or don’t speak at all.” The knife that stayed attached to my thigh burned my skin. I could reach it in one swift movement; all he needed to do was say the wrong thing and he would find a dagger in his heart.
He stood still as stone, staring at me with those haunting eyes of his. The tension in the room grew thicker with each passing second. Then he let out a low chuckle and turned to place the book back on the shelf.
“Why must you be so serious, daughter?” He turned to face me again, the cold smile still etched on his lips. “I’m only telling you my love for literature. Particularly this one.”
He tapped his finger against the spine of the book.
“The greatest enemy will hide in the last place you will ever look.” He closed the distance between us, his scent assaulting my nostrils. “Be careful who you choose to trust in our world, little one. The devil is closer than you think.”
I lifted my chin and stared him dead in the eyes. “You are right, of course. But one thing about these devils you speak of? They still bleed red, just like the rest of us. Which means they, too, can be killed.”
He huffed gently, a small smile playing on his lips. “Indeed, they bleed. But remember that so do you, Savina Baratelli. And those which bleeds can also die. Come, the party awaits.”
He brushed past me, not even waiting for me to follow. He walked through his study door and made his way down the hallway to the grand room where we had come from.
Why did I feel like we had just declared war against each other was beyond me. But I did.
Chapter Seventeen
Savina’s POV
It was gnawing at me. Felipe’s words had been… I didn’t know what to make of them. I had spent the better part of five days looking over my father's and brother’s case. I had looked over all the pictures and requested the video footage from that day.
