(AURORA'S POV)
"I'll count to five with you and then, I'll make your arm alright again, okay?"
Lucia nodded her head, her little dark pigtails bouncing, her large grey eyes watching me intently.
Oh lord, I hope this one forgives me.
"One." I started.
"One." She repeated softly after me.
"Two." I called and gave the dislocated arm a gentle but firm pull that made a satisfied crack.
The little girl turned to me, tear filled eyes that now judged me on grounds of betrayal but I was quicker, giving her a remedy Candy as I petted her.
I glanced wearily at the syringe on the table and my insides squeezed. Poor Lucia didn't know the big guy was on his way. She sobbed in muffled tones while sucking and I cuddled her in my arms comfortingly.
Then I heard it.
Loud, heavy footsteps. Ones that I recognized well enough.
No. Not today! Not now!
My cousin, Marcelo, pushed the door open and part of it yanked out of its hinges. A display of the terrible state of infrastructure in the servants' quarters.
"Aurora!" He growled. He was either terribly drunk or terribly angry.
I clutched the child to me and tried to move back but the table was right behind me. I hoped that Lucia's mother would tap on the window anytime soon because I knew I was no match for Marcelo's hard, fat body.
He had crossed the room in the blink of an eye, his brown eyes furiously blazing as he pulled the little girl away from me. I tried to hold on to her but a hard slap was sent flying to my cheek. The force pushed me back as pain spread to my jaw. I wasn't given time to process this as Marcelo grabbed me and hugged me into his arms.
"You witch!" He growled huskily, his nose dug into my skin and his hands started to travel my body hungrily, ravenously. He groped my breasts and began to slide his filthy hands around my thighs.
"Marcelo, there is a child here." I said in a strained voice.
He gripped my neck making me choke slightly before he pushed me and stepped backward.
"I don't care if a child is here, I am not letting someone else taste you before I do." He growled, his eyes skimmed over my body in his usual sickening manner.
He started to unbuckle his belt and his deep breathing and hungry snarl told me that he intended to rape me today.
"Marcelo, there is a little girl in the room." I repeated.
"How does that concern me?" He challenged, beginning to take slow deliberate steps towards me. "Or are you going to beg?"
He chuckled. "I thought the witch doesn't beg…."
Then, he lunged. My night robe tore in two. His body pinned me against the table—hard, heavy, inescapable. Only my wrists were free.
"Beg or not," he groaned, grinding against me, "I will take you."
His hand reached for my thighs, he pushed my legs open and I had an adrenaline rush.
I didn't remember taking the syringe or even taking the cap off. I only remembered the feeling of the needle sinking into his thigh—smooth, certain, exact.
Like I had been waiting my whole life to do this.
Marcelo crumpled. His body hit the floor like a large bag of meat and his screams became sobs and whimpers.
I did not even spare him a glance as I stepped over him and went to console a crying Lucia.
My Uncle Roberto and his wife Elena accompanied by two bodyguards strolled in, shocked.
"My son!" Aunt Elena screamed, running to the wriggling Marcelo. Then she looked up at me, eyes flashing. "You want to kill my son."
She started to charge at me but my uncle snapped at her.
"Don't try it." He warned and then his eyes fell on me. "There's no use, you can't touch her hours before she gets married. The old man can have your head."
Aunt Elena turned to me, the rage suppressed in her could charge up the whole estate. She ran back to her son, burning that she wasn't able to punish or humiliate me today.
"Take the child. Have its parents punished." Uncle Roberto waved at Lucia.
I stepped forward but he did not even look at me.
"Delay me, and I will have them all killed."
I didn't move and soon I felt the little girl's grip loosen from me and heard her cries get louder.
She was calling for her Mama as she was taken away.
"Still treating the church rats under my roof." He snarled angrily at me.
I stared back at him for some time and then went to my table.
"Where are you bloody going to?" Uncle Roberto asked with his voice strained, like he was one moment from exploding all over me.
I picked up the bottle with my steady hands.
"You said I'm getting married today, Uncle." I said, my voice steady too. The only thing about me that was not steady was my screaming heart!
I turned to face him. "I need my medication." I stated bluntly, holding his angry eyes as I continued. "So that I don't humiliate you by vomiting in the presence of Don Marchetti."
I paused, just long enough to watch his veins throb.
"…. You know, when he kisses me."
Uncle Roberto looked like his vein was about to burst from his head.
Goodness, this man. If he keels over before my wedding, who will walk me down the aisle? Though I suppose I could always ask Marcelo. Or is it too soon?
I glanced at his writhing body on the ground, crying to his mother like a starved child.
I sighed softly.
Way too soon.
"You don't have to worry about getting sick," Uncle Roberto said with the most annoying smile. "Don Marchetti is too busy for events. He is being represented by Fabio."
I laughed inwardly. If Don Marchetti was not the one who murdered my family, then maybe he would have been more pleasant as a groom.
There's no need to tell my uncle that I knew that Fabio would be standing in as the Don. Fabio himself had told me. Countless times.
Just last night, he stormed in to my room.
"You'll be mine tomorrow," he said. "Not my grandfather's. Mine."
His breath smelled of wine and his hands were on my waist before I could step back.
"And when I'm done with you, I'll tell the old man you seduced me. He'll believe it. He always believes the worst about beautiful women."
I couldn't tell which Marchetti was more repulsive. The Grandfather or the Grandson.
But luckily for me, I get to have both.
Both to kill.
Starting with the foolish one.
The poison would be on my lips.
I had prepared it years ago, a tasteless alkaloid, distilled from the petals of a special flower that grew behind the servant's quarters, where I went to steal hours for myself . It was undetectable , slow acting but very perfect for the job. Fatal within seventy two hours.
Patient, just like me.
I thought of Fabio's chipped teeth as he smiled at me.
Later this morning, when he kisses me at the altar, he would smile victoriously again.
He would taste me.
And then he would taste death.
He just didn't know it yet.
No one did.
They thought I was resigned. They thought I was the girl who survived the Orange Hill Massacre by being beautiful.
The only thing they thought that was right was that I was broken. And even then, they didn't know how shattered I was or that shattered things were sharp.
They wouldn't know until it is too late.
I smiled to myself as I followed my uncle down the hall, to get ready for my wedding.