Giana pushed open her bedroom door. The bright pink walls and fluffy white rugs made her stomach turn. It was the room of a stupid, easily manipulated girl.
She shrugged off Cornel's heavy coat and tossed it onto the chaise lounge.
The bedroom door creaked open. Delilah slipped inside like a rat.
Giana saw her reflection in the vanity mirror. Her jaw tightened, but she quickly wiped the anger from her face. She turned around and let out an exhausted sigh.
"You're supposed to knock before entering someone's room, Delilah." Giana's voice was cold and sharp.
Delilah stopped in her tracks. She forced a fake, sweet smile. "Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you didn't have any bruises."
Delilah took a step toward the chaise lounge. Her eyes were glued to the men's coat. She wanted to check the pockets. She wanted to find a name.
Giana saw her target. She walked fast, grabbed the coat by the collar, and shoved it deep into the wicker laundry hamper.
"It's just dirty laundry," Giana said. She crossed her arms and stared down at Delilah.
Delilah gritted her teeth. She dropped the sweet act. "Who was the guy, Giana? Did you sleep with some random trash from the club?"
Giana laughed. It was a dry, hollow sound. "You should write movies, Delilah. Your imagination is wild."
Giana took a step forward, backing Delilah toward the door. "If you're so curious about last night, why don't we call the police? We can ask them to pull the security footage from the party. We can see exactly who put something in my drink."
Delilah's pupils shrank to pinpricks. The blood drained from her face. She took a step back, her heel hitting the doorframe.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," Delilah stammered. Sweat broke out on her forehead.
Giana watched the panic consume her. She smiled. "Relax. I'm just joking. You look like you're going to pass out."
Delilah let out a shaky breath. She needed to change the subject immediately. She pulled her trump card.
"Gary was looking for you all night," Delilah said softly. "He was going crazy."
In her past life, hearing Gary's name would make Giana melt. Now, a wave of pure nausea hit her stomach.
Giana walked to her vanity and picked up a cotton pad. She started wiping the smeared mascara from under her eyes. "Oh? If he was so worried, why didn't he come here to wait for me?"
Delilah stared at Giana's back. This wasn't the reaction she expected.
"He was exhausted. He went home to sleep," Delilah said, trying to plant a seed of guilt. "You can't blame him. You disappeared."
"I don't care if he sleeps in a ditch," Giana threw the dirty cotton pad into the trash can. It hit the plastic with a sharp thud.
Giana turned around. "You seem to care a lot about my fiancé's sleeping habits, Delilah."
Delilah's face turned bright red. "You're misunderstanding me! I'm just trying to help your relationship!"
"If you want to help, get out of my room. I'm taking a shower." Giana pointed at the door.
Delilah's chest heaved. She turned around and practically ran out of the room.
The door clicked shut. Giana's shoulders dropped. She let out a long breath.
She walked to the full-length mirror and unbuttoned the white shirt. She stared at the dark purple bruises covering her ribs and collarbones. Cornel's violence was stamped all over her skin.
A loud engine roared in the driveway outside.
A few seconds later, the front door opened.
"Giana! Giana, where are you?" Gary's voice echoed up the stairs. It sounded desperate and full of fake love.
Giana's blood turned to ice. The memory of him stealing her inheritance and leaving her to die exploded in her brain. Her hands curled into tight fists.
She ripped the bedroom door open and marched toward the stairs.
