Chapter 82: Chapter 82

ANGELIC...

Bought.

Like a commodity.

Bought. It's simple.

I lean my forehead against the icy car window. My head hurts like never before. Now at least I can control the tears of anger.

Anger at LeBlanc and Elliot for treating me as one of their contracts. I can even imagine them negotiating my value in the boardroom. But mostly mad at myself. I should have listened to my instincts the first time I met LeBlanc in the White House ballroom. Should have stayed away. I should have listened to Detective Pierce when he warned me.

What was I expecting anyway? That someone would look at me and see me as more than an extension of Elliot's business? Absurdity!

- To lack? - I hear the call of the taxi driver. I look at him through the rear view mirror, noticing that the car is stopped - We are there - he warns.

- Right.

I look for pockets on the sides of the dress, then I remember it has none. I look around, slowly realizing that I even forgot my shoes, not to mention my cards. I look at the taxi driver.

- Its good. Miss can pay in a next race - he says. His light and cordial expression puts me at ease.

- Thanks.

I would like to smile, but I can't. In that case, I'm just getting out of the car, so as not to take up more of your time.

I asked him to take me to Parker Mansion. I have a slight feeling that I'm no longer welcome at Elliot's, so I didn't even think to go. I considered asking Vicenzo for help, but I'm sick of men who just want to take advantage of me. My only option was Skyla, although I'm sure LeBlanc will find me here at some point.

Part of me is terrified. I saw him shoot a man without a trace of remorse or hesitation. And now LeBlanc bought me, and only God knows why. I feel like nowhere in the world is safe enough to protect me from him.

I ring the bell next to the entrance gates. Skyla is often alone here, as her mother lives to travel and her father barely remembers he has a daughter.

– Residence Parkers. How can I help you? – Azian, the butler, answers the intercom.

- Hey. It's me, Angelic, I say. I notice that my voice is thick and tired.

This day felt like an eternity.

- Hello miss. Donelli. I will receive it.

- It's not necessary. Just open the pedestrian door, please.

Skyla and I were raised together, practically. She had free access to Donneli Manor, just like me here. Like me, Skyla had very few of her parents, and that made us lean on each other.

I hear the small gate open. I walk past him and into the property Skyla's dad bought for her and her mom when he found out she had an upset stomach.

The Parker mansion has a huge garden. The center of it all is a fountain with an angel at the top, gracefully spouting water. The house itself is as big as a palace, and for that it needs countless servants.

Skyla was born in the middle of it all. For her, it's more than normal. However, for your mother, enjoying all possible luxuries is a sign that you have succeeded in life.

Before I reach the door, Skyla opens it and runs towards me. She knows that if I come to her house in the middle of the night, something bad has happened.

We meet halfway, in the middle of the night, and she wraps me in a tight embrace. When I feel the warmth of affection from someone I love, I almost allow myself to cry again. Cry with regret, anger and sadness.

I mean, if I was sold by my own father, that means I'm at rock bottom, to say the least.

"Let's go inside," Skyla whispers.

I shake my head. When we walk away, she doesn't ask questions, just takes my hand and pushes me through the door. We enter the living room of the house, and the sudden heat reminds me that it's cold outside.

“I'll ask Azian to make you a cup of tea.

Skyla leaves for the kitchen. She's so pretty, she's always dressed up. Her loose but straight hair, satin pajamas and slippers are enough to make her pretty.

While I wait, I collapse on the carpet between the sofas. I feel completely lost, so much so that I don't even have shoes. I have to cancel my cards and apply for new ones, buy a new cell phone, find an apartment to stay...

“He will bring tea soon,” Skyla returns. She sits across from me, crossing her legs – God – her eyes scan my whole body – You look like a homeless person.

I smile. She smiles too, then we laugh together.

"I'm homeless now," I sigh.

"Elliot wouldn't kick you out," Skyla concludes immediately.

I smile again, this time amused by her innocence.

Wouldn't he kick me out? Of course. Selling myself seems less bad to me.

I think of a way to tell you the truth. I don't mean that LeBlanc just took his checkbook out of his pocket and acquired me, like he was at the Ferrari dealership. I also don't mean that Elliot gave up being my father and traded me for numbers on his account. I don't want to go through the humiliation of having to tell you what happened tonight.

- It is difficult to explain.

– Well – Skyla stands up, holding out her hands to me – About family members who don't care about their puppies, I get it. Now you can shower, put on one of my nightgowns, and go to bed.

I take her hands and stand up.

"When you wake up, we can do something to take your mind off things," she continues.

Distract me from the fact that I'm worth less than the cars in Elliot's garage? I do not think so.

- It's simple?

- Of course my dear. What are you waiting for? That I sit with you and cry?

Not. Definitely not.

- I hope you will teach me to care less about disappointments - Just kidding, but my depressing tone makes the sentence sound like a lament.

These words, these simple words, are able to open the biggest smile on Skyla's face. And knowing her like I know her, I know she has a really bad idea.

“Angelic Silver Donneli,” she whispers, shaking her head, “you got me planning the biggest bullshit ever.

Who has a friend, has everything.

That's what they say, right? Well, I digress. I think whoever has a friend has a problem.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror in Skyla's room. I'm just brunette. I don't know when I decided to listen to my friend's crazy advice, but it happened. She came with a spray of black paint and managed to convince me to dye my hair.

I hold a wick between my fingers. I act like I don't have a thousand problems to solve. I shake my head in disapproval.

Skyla bursts through the bedroom doors. She already has a glass in her hand, and it's still only ten o'clock in the morning.

"Are you sure this dye will come out of my hair?" " I ask.

– Yes, on the first wash – she guarantees. I'm sitting in front of the dressing table, and Skyla stops behind me – you're hot like that – she places the glass in my hand.

I love our friendship because we never have to deal with what we don't want. Even in her most depressing days, I never made Skyla say anything she didn't mean. Now she does the same for me.

– I hope you've had enough rest, because the party is so good.

"Damn so good?" - I smile.

- I talk a lot of nonsense when I'm drunk - she explains, then walks away and heads for the exit - Now let's go downstairs, for God's sake.

I stand up as if preparing for battle. For me, I would stay in bed later. However, Skyla barely slept. She called all of our childhood and teenage friends, and all of a sudden she booked a pool party.

I appreciate your willingness to make me forget yesterday, but did I need so many things?

I take a sip of the drink in my hand and immediately regret it. Too much alcohol. Too early.

I leave the room. I walk through the door Skyla is holding open and we go down to the first floor together. There are a few people in the room, but the real crowd is in the lounge and pool area.

Loud music doesn't negate that the Parker family neighbors will have a rough morning today.

I'm wearing a pink bikini. It was the only room I had in Skyla's house, and it suited me when I was thirteen. At that time, my breasts barely filled my bikini top. However, I wear a baggy t-shirt and denim shorts.

Skyla greets a few acquaintances as we approach the pool. I follow her like a puppy, a little uncomfortable. My body is there, but my mind keeps spinning in circles last night. A heartbreaking feeling that I won't be able to get back on my feet.

"Donnelly?" - I hear my last name being called. Nobody calls me that, so I'm curious. I look around until I find light brown eyes glued to me – Damn! Haven't seen each other for a long time?

I stare at Tyler Donovan, my former neighbor and classmate at school. He's changed a lot since we were eleven, which is to be expected, but his new appearance leaves me quite impressed. Tyler has gained defined muscles, grown taller and has darker hair than I remember. His skin is tanned, and it's quite exposed, as he only wears board shorts.

– Since… – I think – Elementary school?

- You are gone, my daughter - he approaches and we exchange a quick hug.

Skyla points to a group - our classmates - indicating that she will go to them. nod.

– If I remember correctly, it was you who moved to Europe.

– It's true – he smiles – I came back last year. I always see Skyla in the most promiscuous places in town, but you...

We walked to the loungers by the pool. We sat in the same one, although there are others available.

"I was trying not to tarnish the family name," I said. He seems to think it's a joke, because he's laughing.

I look at Tyler's white smile. He was cute as a kid, and now he's become a handsome man.

“I tried too,” he says.

- To abandon?

"Of course I do," he breathes, so we smile together.

“Here is the black sheep. I raise the glass Skyla handed me earlier.

Tyler looks around, looking for something. Suddenly, he gets up, approaches two guys by the pool, and has just stolen a drink from one of them. The guy who had his drink stolen doesn't seem to care, despite raising his middle finger to Tyler.

"A toast," Tyler said when he returned. He turns the glass towards his mouth, heedless of the contents. Of two, one. Either he's pretty sure what he's drinking or he doesn't care.

Maybe that's the secret to happiness: not worrying about it. What have I gained by taking care of people? What have people done to recognize my efforts? What did life give me in exchange for all this?

I imitate Tyler's gesture, swirling the liquid in the glass towards my lips. When I swallow it all, I feel the drink go down, hot and strong, down my throat. I wince, cough, but smile.

- Heartbreak? Tyler asks.

- Who?

He sits down next to me.

"You've always been kind of nerdy and upright. A hot nerd, but still a nerd – he said making me smile – What are you doing here, if not pour alcohol on the wounds?

His eyes turn to me, serious this time. I don't want to spoil the moment by telling you the real reason I'm here, drinking something of dubious origin on a Tuesday.

"I think you're right," I said simply.

- That works? - he asks. I shake my head, denying - Then this drink is too weak.

Tyler hands over the glass he stole. I stare at the rest of the liquid, thinking about the extent of recklessness and irresponsibility I'm about to commit. But for once in my life, I don't want to think. I don't want to be the paranoid angelic my dad created, or the manipulative angelic LeBlanc created. I want to be nothing, that's all.

I take the glass from his hand and down the rest of the contents. This time the burn is more tolerable, though it still makes me wince.

- Shit !

"Now, yeah, you're at a real party," Tyler applauds.

I'm still trying to get my stomach back when Skyla comes back. To the surprise of a total of zero people, she has a bottle in her hands, along with a handful of salt and a slice of lemon.

No, it can't be.

For the love of God, no.

“Bodyshot time,” she shouts.

– No, no, no – I said standing up already – Please don't.

“Come on, Angelic. Skyla puts the bottle down.

I look up, staring at the blue sky. Isn't it too soon for the infamous crisis to begin?

"I do it on you," she said. Although I continue to find this joke completely silly, I don't hesitate. Skyla points to the lounge chair and I lay down. Meanwhile, Tyler just laughs.

I take the t-shirt off, throw it on the floor, and as two sets of eyes fall on my breasts, I'm pretty sure that bikini doesn't fit anymore.

Skyla takes the slice of lemon and starts running the fruit over my stomach. She winks at me, then passes it over my breasts as well.

Oh yes. We can kiss the devil, since we are in hell!

I roll my eyes.

- I never thought I'd suck you off.

-Skyla!

She smiled, swaying her body to the beat of the music. A little drunk. Skyla sprinkles the salt on the areas where she rubbed the lemon. She prepares to lick me while Tyler prepares a blow.

Skyla slides her tongue over my belly, tickling it. I smile, trying to dodge it. She licks the top of my breasts, then takes the shot from Tyler's hands and flips it over.

I hadn't noticed before, but now there are a few people around us, and they squeal when Skyla finishes swallowing. My conscience, in the distance, tells me that I am going too far. However, I choose to ignore my rational side. I don't want to be that Angelique today.

I find myself smiling, sincerely, for the first time since last night.

"I think it's my turn now," I hear Tyler say.

Holy shit.