fledermaus

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

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^{𝑺 𝑨 𝑳 𝑬 𝑴 𝑹 𝑰 𝑽 𝑬 𝑹 𝑨}

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Salem knew what the right decision was. It was his first outing where he would publicly acknowledge his relationship with Marisol after days of sneaking around, though he was sure it was obvious to everyone. How could people not notice the purple bruises Salem left on her neck, a bit of pride sparking in him every time he saw the colors blending with her soft skin. There were so many things that could go wrong, now with social media being a large part of everyday society, but Gwen wasn’t that active on social media. She was nearly nonexistent. Still, he knew what the right decision was.

“Salem, what are you up to tonight?” Gwen asked, her posh voice sultry with the sound of slicked magazine pages flipping as background music.

The right decision: to be honest. Salem should say, “I’m going to a party, Gwen, with another girl who I think I have feelings for. I’m so sorry, I wish things between us could work out”, but instead he said: “Nothing, I’m just staying in tonight, studying.”

The air in the car felt thick with his lie and he swallowed self-consciously, suddenly paranoid that she would be able to tell by even the simplest cricket chirruping in Kavi’s front yard.

“Oh,” Gwen’s voice was always so feathery and husky, and there was a tinge of pride in her tone as if Salem was a good dog who did his trick like he was told, “Salem, I’ve been thinking. What if I come down there for winter break?”

Salem should say: “I’ve been thinking too, Gwen, and I don’t think that’s such a great idea.” Instead he said, “That would be awesome.”

The guilt was welling up in his throat and he needed to go before he buried himself neck deep in lies. He said his goodbyes and whispered a hollow ‘I love you,’ before he turned his attention to the house in front of him. It has to be worth it, he was doing the wrong thing right now, but he couldn’t break up with her over the phone and he felt too strongly for Marisol to let it be. His decision, in the end, has to be worth it or else he’ll break.

The house was loud and crowded, and Salem looked over the tops of people’s heads (which was rather easy) to look for Marisol. He knew she was with Archer and so he scoured the crowds for their faces, looking rather lost without the only two people he really knew at the school.

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

“I’m surprised you’re even going tonight. Figured this many people in one place was sure to spook you into staying in.”

Millie Jean stared out the window, her eyes tracking the cars flying past. Part of her wanted to stick some headphones in to calm her nerves before she entered a crowded cesspool of STDs and assaulting noises, but she knew her sister Kellie Anne wouldn’t take lightly to that. “Well, mom wanted me to go. So, I’m going.”

Kellie Anne’s nostrils immediately flared in annoyance. Ah, yes, how could she forget about that afternoon’s argument? After Kellie had announced she’d be heading out to Kavi’s party, the twins’ mother had insisted that Millie tag along in hopes that it would ‘help her have some fun’. Knowing her sister like she did, Kellie had fought tooth and nail to prevent this from happening. Whenever their mother asked one sister to tag along with the other, it was usually so one would look after the other, and the last thing the dancer wanted was to play babysitter when she was supposed to be having fun. And yet here she was a few hours later: both sisters on the way to the party at the center of the family discord, Kellie’s angry brown eyes on the road while keeping both hands on the wheel of her Beetle.

“Don’t worry,” Millie Jean said after seeing the sour look on Kellie’s face, “I’ll be fine on my own and you can do whatever.”

It wasn’t like Millie Jean wanted to be there or be an accessory attached to Kellie Jean’s belt loops. Millie Jean just wanted to stay home and watch her butterflies (she would go swimming, but she’s not allowed to without supervision yet). A party was the last thing she wanted to go to, and she could already imagine the acrid smell of alcohol wafting over her until it sunk into her clothes. She couldn’t wait to be back home.

“Yeah, because leaving you to your own devices was such a marvelous idea the last time…” Kellie muttered, brows furrowing together now. She knew that mentioning her sister’s incident was a low blow, but a big part of her was still hurt about how Millie could have possibly thought she didn’t have anybody to trust with her issues. Well, now she most certainly did not have her twin in her corner. If she wanted to be a selfish bitch, then so be it.

Millie Jean’s blood boiled under her skin, so hot she could feel it climb up to her cheeks and turn her face bright red under her Halloween makeup. She knew it would start a fight and maybe that’s why she said it, “Maybe worry about what girl your boy toy is going to be fucking at this party, Kellie Anne. ‘Cause it sure won’t be you.”

Kellie’s knuckles whitened as her grip on the steering wheel strengthened with holding back the urge to grab her sister by the throat, her face a mask of fury now. “At least I’m not some depressed, reclusive virgin who doesn’t even know what a kiss feels like,” she spat, pure venom in her spew of words now. “You know what? You should have dressed like Rapunzel tonight- the two of you have a lot in common. You know: locked in a tower, alone in the world, twiddling their thumbs and moping around waiting for some Prince Charming to come whisk them away to live oh-so ‘happily ever after’… So romantic.”

“No, I’m just waiting for you to leave!” Millie Jean shouted, whipping her head to glare at Kellie Anne’s silhouette in the driver’s seat. “Are we almost there already? I can’t wait to get out of this car.”

“Oh, really? Well then let me make it easier for you!” Kellie shouted back, slamming her foot on the brakes and bringing the car to a full stop. Fuming, she unlocked the Beetle’s doors and glared right back at her sister. “Get out of the damn car, Millie Jean. You can walk yourself to the damn party.”

“So much for not being able to leave me to my own devices, huh?” Millie Jean bit back viciously, unbuckling her seatbelt even though she really didn’t want to get out of the car. “What makes you so sure I’ll go to the party? I’m sure I can find a high enough bridge around here, or maybe a freeway. Maybe I’ll be picked up by some strange man in his van or get stabbed by a crackhead on the streets! Wonder what mom will say to that.”

Millie Jean hoped Kellie Anne would take her bait and continue driving. She didn’t really want to walk, and if it came down to swallowing her pride or putting her sneakers to work, Millie would sacrifice the soles of her shoes before she sacrificed her ego.

Kellie Anne was quiet for a long time, truly contemplating whether beating up Millie was really worth skipping the party for. I mean, it certainly was an inviting idea, and it would help her get rid of the anger that was currently pumping through her veins. But did she really want to miss the chance of a fun night with Shawna, Sawyer and the rest of her friends over her sister’s stupidity? Not one bit.

“You know what I wonder? What Mom would say about one twin suddenly snapping and running her car over the manipulative, piece of shit body of the other one,” she finally replied. “But that’s probably what your psychopath self has wanted all along, so I’ll save you the enjoyment. Do me a favor and keep your stupid mouth shut for the rest of the trip.”

“Just drive.” Millie muttered, fastening her seatbelt and leaning pack in the seat. She glared out the window, resolutely keeping her lips pressed together.

After an angry huff, Kellie released the brakes and floored the gas pedal again. An uncomfortable silence settled in the car, the atmosphere thick with the unresolved tension between the two bitter, upset sisters. Thankfully, the rest of their drive came to an end sooner rather than later, and before they knew it, Kellie Anne was claiming one of the prime parking spots in front of the spacious home.

“You’re on your own, Mills. Don’t bother me unless you’re dying.” And with the warning still hanging in the air, the long-haired Snow White exited the car, squared her shoulders, plastered the best smile she could muster up under the circumstances, and made her way into the party.

Millie Jean didn’t follow her sister right away, bending slightly to check over her Day of the Dead makeup in the side mirror of the car instead. She had done it hastily since she had no intention of coming to the party until her mom forced her to and the Day of the Dead makeup was decided on after frantically thinking up easy costumes. Eventually, after fiddling with the flower in her hair, she had run out of things to double-check and was forced to walk into the party.

A beautiful array of Halloween-themed decorations greeted the young woman, and so did a large group of classmates both known and unknown. She said her hellos and waved at a few teammates before giving a quick look-around to her surroundings. As if by instinct or pulled by some sort of unknown magnetism, her brown eyes immediately fell on Max, and Kellie felt her breath get caught in her throat. If the boy usually shone by himself, it was nothing compared to the way he did now. The golden Roman soldier costume he’d chosen called attention to every one of his best features: the tall frame, the muscled arms, the defined chest, the toned legs, the golden treasure below the belt that she would never admit to taking a second good look at… All in their usual perfect state, down to the glowing smile on his handsome face. She couldn’t help but stare at him for what seemed like a lifetime… Up until company arrived in the form of Yessi Astor.

Kellie’s heart immediately shriveled up into a sad, pathetic prune. Of course he would be with her. She was his ‘best friend’, and probably the most provocative girl in the room. With a like that, would he even bother with giving a second glance at any other girl? Feeling the tears starting to sting her eyes, the dancer turned on her heel and walked away, with no particular purpose or direction.

Lucky for her, the path had led to her newest best friend, who was currently standing alone by the drinks table, and whatever sadness she was feeling evaporated somewhat. Smiling, Kellie made a beeline towards the caramel-skinned girl and threw her arms around her as soon as she was within reach.

“Oh my God! You look amazing!” Kellie cried out, planting a quick kiss on Shawna’s lips. “I told you that Cleopatra costume was the way to go! You’ll have everyone at this party swooning after you.”

While her sister mingled, Millie Jean found herself a soda and squeezed her way to the wall, away from the bodies of everyone else. Her short trip from the cooler to her now-declared territory was torture with people pressing in on her and the feeling of a hundred hot exhales brushing across her neck. The wall was good, the wall was great, it was her only friend in this hellhole. Millie Jean was content with being on her own, the crowd was causing her anxiety and she just wanted to sweat in the corner until an acceptable time has passed so she could be-bop her way out of there.

She was beginning to settle in when a voice right next to her startled her, causing her jump slightly and the coke to slosh in her red solo cup. At first, she didn’t think the voice was directed at her, despite his words seeming to fit her description rather well - there was no way she was the only one there with Day of the Dead makeup, though. However, once she glanced up at a guy in front of her with a chiseled jaw and a wetsuit on.

“Um,” Millie Jean stuttered softly, trying to think of a polite but uninterested response. Maybe if she was weird enough, he would go away, “my mom made me come because I’m a social recluse and she’s under the impression that forcing me to interact with my flea-infested peers will make me more likeable as a person. Your nipples look weird.”

Millie Jean immediately flushed at her last sentence, looking away and take a long drink of her soda. She wanted to weird him out and make him go away, but not at the expense of coming off as a total freak. Though, Kellie Anne would argue that she is a total freak. This was going to be a long night for her.

• 葉隱 •

this looks interesting!

verzehren's vault of characters

idk i'll fuck with this later

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

𝙰 𝙸 𝙳 𝙴 𝙽 𝚆 𝙴 𝙸 𝙽 𝙼 𝙰 𝙽 𝙽

“I’ve missed you.”

Aiden held the smoke until it felt like his lungs were swelling out of his chest and released it smoothly, watching the stream cloud the air in front of him like a steam train chugging to nowhere. He wanted to roll his eyes at his “benefactor’s” sentiments, but his face felt way too numb with the alcohol buzzing his brain and the marijuana turning his nerves to sludge. Richard Leeson, his main sugar daddy, stood up and buttoned his white shirt with his back turned to him. He wasn’t that attractive to Aiden – he was a seventy-one year old man, after all – but he had hella money and knew what he was doing in bed. Still, Aiden was being paid to make him feel wanted and the nineteen year old did always pride himself on being a hard-worker.

Richard only jumped slightly when Aiden rested his chin on his shoulder and slung his arm possessively around his chest from behind, “Going back to the wife already, Dick?”

Richard’s chest puffed with laughter and Aiden could feel the vibrations under his hands, “Was that a nickname or name-calling, babe?”

“Both.” Aiden replied cheekily, pressing a chaste kiss to Richard Leeson’s chin.

“Stop,” Richard grunted, “if you keep teasing me I won’t be able to leave and ‘the wife’ is expecting me soon.”

“Fine, fine.” Aiden removed himself from Richard’s back to stab his blunt into the ashtray by his bed. “I’ll see you soon then, yeah?”

“Of course, babe.” Richard kissed him a bit longer than necessary before leaving the condo.

Once he heard the door shut, Aiden flopped back onto his back and pulled up his phone to scroll through his texts from his other sugar daddies. He scrolled past messages from the sugar daddies that knew he was back in town and sent off messages to the ones who didn’t. Most of his sugar daddies wanted to continue their contract, but some didn’t text back which left Aiden a little bit bitter. Being a sugar baby was effort, pretending to be attracted to old flabby men, and they should’ve appreciated him a hell of a lot more. Business was going to be slow this next week.

𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚗

Millie Jean felt relieved when Georgie left her, but she also felt a bit bereft. It was a weird feeling – not wanting to be near anyone yet yearning to be wanted nearby. Such contradicting thoughts gave her a headache and running into Georgie left a taste in her mouth that made her decide to go home, whether it would hurt Bea’s feelings or not.

The walk back home was blurry – she walked on autopilot, sometimes tugging on Puppy’s leash to stop her from running off and halfway through she must have picked up Pepper but she doesn’t really remember doing it. Upon entering the house, she rushed to her room and released the cats from their leashes. She should text Bea and tell her sorry or make up some excuse – it sounded like a lot of effort, though.

Instead, Millie Jean sat and watched her butterflies flutter within their terrarium and wondered if she was cruel for keeping them there.

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^{𝑺 𝑨 𝑳 𝑬 𝑴 𝑹 𝑰 𝑽 𝑬 𝑹 𝑨}

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Salem bought a new phone and returned to his car. Instead of starting it and driving back to the house, he sat in silence – didn’t even turn on his Bluetooth. The bag with his new phone sat in the seat next to him. He had bought the most expensive model he could find despite knowing it wouldn’t even put a dent in his funds; still, it was the only rebellious thing he could do. Salem rested his forehead on the steering wheel and wished he was back in New York.

He doesn’t want to call his dad and he doesn’t want to see Marisol (Marisol who was his, his, his last night in his arms and was so warm and soft and perfect) with that rat-faced Sonny. In New York, things were a lot simpler. It was funny he had only been in Palm Beach for two weeks and already everything that was precariously balancing on the edge was falling. His relationship with his dad had finally burned through his tough skin and there were so many more things Salem wanted to say to his dad, things he knew he wouldn’t be able to take back, but he wanted to say them anyways. His relationship with his mother remained the same, but he could feel the peace between them fracturing and one tap would cause their perfect vase of a relationship to break. Meanwhile, Gwen – god, what was he going to do with Gwen.

It must be all the Vitamin D he’s getting that’s making him so impulsive. Or maybe this is who he is, and he’s just like his father instead of his mother (and fuck if he hadn’t already known that, known that he was a waste of space and a fuck-up and a filthy –).

Salem should call his dad. Picking up his phone, he scrolled down his contacts which had been transported from his old phone’s backup, and thumped a name on impulse. The ringing felt like a knife about to clatter onto the floor.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Gwen, sorry I hadn’t called. My phone broke.”

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

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^{𝑺 𝑨 𝑳 𝑬 𝑴 𝑹 𝑰 𝑽 𝑬 𝑹 𝑨}

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Salem ended up at the mall – there was nowhere else for him to really go and he wasn’t exactly teeming with friends having been at the school for maybe two weeks max. The only friend he had was Marisol and even then he might have fucked that up (in more than one way and he feels so guilty when even the thought makes his heart race). He mostly spent his time meandering around the mall, with no particular destination in mind, and no phone to keep him preoccupied.

It was okay, though, he liked to people watch. It made him feel relaxed – slowly, he made his way to the center of the mall. The smell of grease and body odor and something vaguely sickening made Sal’s stomach roil with disgust and hunger simultaneously; it was a very confusing combination. It has been a while since he treated himself to some old-fashioned cheap food, especially since his mother is constantly on his case to eat healthy. On principle of spiting her eco-friendly protesters, she insists on buying non-vegan friendly food either way and Sal has to bite back comments on how GMOs and chemicals weren’t exactly ‘eating healthy’.

His thoughts stutter to a stop when he’s on his way to the Chinese food line (or was it Thai?). Despite only knowing her for a short period of time, his body had become hardwired to recognizing her laugh – especially since she is mainly the only person he spent his time with for the past week. A dopey grin was spreading on his face, then, at the thought of seeing her and he should probably tell her that his phone is out of commission. Then he sees that smug bastard Sonny next to her.

There are a lot of things that Salem wants to do. He wants to grab Marisol and take her away from that piece of shit because she’s too good for him, but mostly he just wants to punch Sonny in the nose again (and again and again and again). The idea of red on his knuckles is so appealing that Salem stops in his footsteps on his way to their table (where Marisol is laughing at Sonny, talking with Sonny, enjoying Sonny’s company and that should be him). When had Salem become so violent? When had this bruising green feeling become okay and normal and –

Without a word, Salem sulked from the mall cafeteria. He needs to stop by another shop inside to get a new phone, anyways. As much as he hates it, Salem would have to call his father at some point and he might as well do it now to avoid pissing off his mother.

𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚗

“Georgie,” Millie blinked in surprise and tugged slightly on Pepper’s leash, the surly cat wanting to continue the walk rather than stop for socializing. Millie realized only after a beat of silence that a greeting was supposedly normal in social situations, “Hi.”

Millie Jean was a bit embarrassed to be seen outside. After her attempt, she became even more reclusive and she hardly ever had the energy to make herself look nice. That day in particular Millie Jean had only thrown on a pair of ragged leggings and a stained sweater; her hair was greasy and unwashed, so she had thrown it up in a messy bun to call it a day. Maybe if it looked messy on purpose, no one would notice how much of a mess she really was? Though, Millie Jean was positive that the heavy bags under her eyes and slight sheen of sweat on her brow would give away her lack of personal upkeep over the weekend.

Socializing wasn’t something Millie Jean particularly wanted to do today – or any day, really – and she had even ignored a text message from Bea inviting her over. Millie Jean felt guilty doing it, but she wouldn’t have been much fun anyways. She was just going to lie on Monday and say she had gotten the text too late because she was busy with school work. However, if Millie is remembering right, Georgie and Bea know each other, too. If that’s the case, then Bea will know she’s lying and that makes the guilt in Millie Jean’s stomach even worse.

“Um, well, I’m going to Bea’s. Are you going, too?” Millie Jean asked, her voice wasn’t quiet but it was still rather meek, “Do you think she would mind if I brought my cats with me? They wanted to come out today.”

It was a lie – Millie Jean had no intention of going to Bea’s and Pepper will be absolutely miserable in a stranger’s home (though Puppy is at home wherever she goes). But, maybe, if she shows up and Bea or someone in her family is perhaps allergic, Millie Jean will have a reason to go home without having to socialize or feel guilty. It wasn’t that far-fetched of an idea, cat allergies were rather common. It was as good of a plan as she had.

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚗

WARNING:

^{Millie Jean is extremely depressed and this shows some of her suicide ideation. I don't want to label her as "suicidal" and then not show that in her thought process. If any of this will affect you or your mental health, message me and i'll give a tl;dr}

Get up, shower, eat, lay down, sleep. Rinse, wash, repeat.

Millie Jean doesn’t know what she’s waiting for; doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be waiting for. Sitting in her bed, legs crossed and eyes staring vacantly at her butterfly terrarium, she can hear Kellie Anne’s sobs from the next room over. Millie Jean doesn’t understand why Kellie Anne cares so much about some stupid boy; there will be other people to date. Fall, confess, date, break-up. Rinse, wash, repeat.

Living is so tiring. Everything is so formulaic, just reiterations upon reiterations, and Millie doesn’t really see the point in doing it all over and over and over again. Then again, there’s something wrong with Millie Jean so maybe she just doesn’t get it – of course, everyone says there is nothing wrong with her, that being mentally diseased doesn’t mean she’s wrong. Millie knows different, though: she’s broken and what’s the point of existing if you can never be fixed?

Her phone vibrates against her leg, the alarm notifying her to take her pills and get up out of bed to move around. Standing up, Millie Jean dragged her feet towards her dresser where her pills were encased – she swallowed them dry, liking the way it burned down her throat. She hated taking her pills, it made her feel like another cog in the machine, but it was better than having her mom tapping her foot by the door with the pills in her palm like a treat for a dog.

“The doctor says I should get some Vitamin D, Puppy.” Millie Jean murmurs to one of her cats, purring against her leg. From the bed, Pepper watched on in that cynical way of hers – Millie Jean sometimes wonders if Pepper thinks Millie is as pathetic as Millie knows herself to be. “Would you like to go on a drive, Puppy?”

Puppy meowed in response, recognizing the word ‘drive’ amongst all the other nonsensical things. Pepper’s tail began to thump agitatedly on the bed, indignation radiating towards Millie Jean.

“I’m sorry, Pep, do you want to come, too?” Pepper jumped off the bed and padded towards the door to look for her leash. It was at moments like these that Millie really questioned if her cats could understand her or if it was just a trained response from when they were kittens. Millie Jean liked to think they understood her; that they were there to comfort her for when she was sad and despondent.

“Let’s run along, Puppy.”

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

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^{𝑺 𝑨 𝑳 𝑬 𝑴 𝑹 𝑰 𝑽 𝑬 𝑹 𝑨}

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The taste of sin shouldn’t taste so delicious, but that’s why it’s called temptation, Salem supposes. Salem woke up alone the morning after the dance, the side of his bed still warm underneath his searching palm. It’s been a long time since he’s felt – no, Salem shouldn’t go down that path of thought. Last night was a mistake, it was simply the booze and the testosterone getting in his head – it wasn’t the way Marisol felt against his hand or how sweet she looked underneath him, not at all. This was unfair to Gwen, no matter how you look at it; cheating is wrong, his father has proven that on multiple occasions.

It didn’t stop Salem from climbing into the shower with Mari only a minute later; Salem always has been enslaved by his desires rather than the other way around. But he couldn’t do this to Gwen – no, after today, he would be the perfect boyfriend. He would never complain about shopping sprees ever again and would take her to all the vegan restaurants. Sal and Mari pinky promised each other it would never happen again; silently, Salem also swore to Gwen he would never do it again.

It should have been a relief when Mari climbed into her uber and left, his temptation being snatched from him and he could breathe easy. He mostly felt alone, though. The house was empty, again, and he hated it when it was empty. Just another reminder his family is as broken as the rest of America’s. Well, it’s a weekend, so Salem could just sleep.

Like God heard his woes and decided to punish him for his wanting, just as Salem’s eyes closed, the door opened with a sharp snap and stiletto heels tapped a cruel rhythm on his floorboards.

“Good morning, cucciolo.” Caterina Rivera clasped her hands in front of her navy-blue pencil skirt and stared at Salem with a sly smile. “You are still in bed.”

“Astute observation, mamma. Is there a question in there?” Salem snarked back, rolling onto his back and looking up at his cold mother with a cheeky smile.

Caterina only smiled indulgingly, not bothering to react to Salem’s playfulness. “There are many questions there. I see your vocabulary hasn’t suffered while I was away.”

“Not a single bit.” Salem watched Caterina carefully as she walked around his room, moving her finger across his furniture. He wonders if she can smell the sex in the air, or if he’s just hyper-paranoid; his mother was a patient woman, in the scariest of ways, but she would like Gwen a lot more than she would like Marisol.

Caterina came home earlier than she was supposed to be. She was still supposed to be on her business trip for another week; it was an unwelcome surprised, if Salem was to be frank. While he loved his mother and missed her, the fact remained that if she was only thirty minutes earlier he would have been caught in his most indecent act (in both physical and spiritual matters). His mother paused at the window, before turning sharply on her heel and looking at him.

Pursuing her lips, Caterina gave Salem a stern look, “I’ve heard from Matteo.”

Salem has never been more relieved to talk about his father. “Did you?”

“I said I did, didn’t I?” Caterina always did hate beating around the bush and preferred speaking as precisely as possible, “He says you were quite mad at him last night. Call him by noon to apologize.”

Just like that, Caterina exited his room and clicked the door shut behind her.

Salem’s blood boiled at the command and he stared at the scratches on his knuckles from the night prior. He would rather die than apologize to his dick of a father, not now.

As if to remind him of his deadline, Salem’s phone began ringing from the floor where it had fallen out of his pocket when – Salem reached over his bed and picked it up. A stupid part of him hoped it was Marisol and his heart fell into his stomach when he realized it was from Gwen. He couldn’t talk to her after last night, not yet, and he didn’t want to talk to his father. Salem just wanted to sleep and be alone.

Before he even realized it, Salem had reared his hand back and thrown it against the wall. Huffing with anger, he scrambled into his clothes and grabbed his keys to stomp down the stairs to escape this hellhole. He passed by the dining room table where his mother was eating yogurt and typing on her keyboard.

“My phone broke last night.” Salem told her, his tone unapologetic, and he didn’t even bother trying to make it a convincing lie.

Caterina gently patted her lips with an embroidered napkin, “I am sure it did, cucciolo. Use the credit card I gave you to buy a new one and treat yourself to a nice lunch out. Remember to call your father.”

Salem didn’t reply, just stormed to his car and pulled out of the estate to drive to anywhere but here.