Elsa
“What is it that you wanted me to see?” I ask as soon as I enter his office. He is dressed up in a black dress suit and he looks edible with his hair combed neatly and face brazenly handsome. His demeanor is business at the moment, unlike the Marcello that almost spanked me back in the bedroom. Well, somehow, I wanted him to put me over his knee and use those merciless hands to bring me back to reality. He has a lot of self-control around him and it gets on my nerves to a greater extent.
“Have you had breakfast?” he asks, getting up from his chair.
“Yes,” I respond, though I only managed half a cup of espresso with all the trepidation I had about what he wanted to show me. It had to be a serious issue that needed me to show up at his office.
Why does it matter if I had breakfast anyway? I know well enough not to ask him about it.
He walks to one of the ceiling-high shelves full of box files and books, neatly organized according to dates and size. He walks past them to a file cabinet in the far right corner. He opens up a drawer and removes a big envelope.
I watch him walk back to the desk. He places the envelope on the desk right in front of me.
“What is in there?” I ask, my curiosity getting out of control.
“Open it,” he says, folding his hands in front of his chest. He looks down at me with a stern expression that gives no clues. I have a feeling already knows what is inside. The envelope is still sealed though.
I open it with jittery fingers. I pull out a bunch of photos. The first thing I see is Rosa. She’s dressed up really well in a tight red dress and black heels with a white bag, as usual. And she is walking unto what looks like a hotel reception. It is obviously nighttime. I can tell from the features of the building around her. She looks fine and healthy. What exactly does Marcello want me to see?
I look up at him with a questioning eye.
“Go ahead. There is still more,” he beckons me.
It is actually a small bunch of them.
I go to the next photo. My eyes land on a familiar face. Federico. Dressed up in a black dress suit, with his long hair brushed back. He is such a handsome devil. Fuck him!
I go to the next photo. Federico is in a similar place to Rosa was in in the first photo. The environment is the same judging from the features and decorations.
The next photo has a more distant capture of the two of them in the same place but Federico looks to be coming from the inside of the building and Rosa from outside.
What would Rosa be doing there? A good number of reasons come to my mind, none of them making sense as to why she would be compelled to meet with her husband’s murder on her own.
In the next photo, he is holding her close in like a side hug. I can only notice his hand wrapped around her shoulder. The next photo has the two of them walking together into the hotel with Rosa’s hand in his. They look to be engaged in a conversation, but Rosa has a bright smile on her face.
I swallow the lump in my throat that I didn’t even know was there. Let me hope that this is not what I think it is.
I continue to the next photo. They are entering the elevator together. The next photo had her in the same attire but the environment looks clearer. Frederick is walking behind her but he has changed into a pair of denim jeans and a black t-shirt with black shades in his hands.
The last photo has the two of them outside the building, and yes it is daylight. That can only mean one thing. Rosa spent the night in that hotel with Federico.
I feel a pang of betrayal cutting through my heart. Tears well in my eyes, but refuse to cry. I blink the years back and place the photos on top of the envelope on top of the table.
There is a moment of silence in the room. I can’t gather the courage to look into Marcello’s eyes. Is this what he meant by someone in my family betraying me? Did he have an idea at the time when he said that? It had to be my stepmother fucking Federico a few months after her husband passed on.
Was she part of the scheme to kill Papa? Is she in love with Federico? How long has this been going on? Why do I suspect that she was fucking Federico behind Papa’s back even when he was still alive? It seems doubtful that she would sleep with Federico after knowing that he killed her husband three months back.
“What do you think!” Marcello’s voice sounds over me. He is still standing there next to my chair with his hands folded in front of his chest, waiting patiently for me to absorb the shock.
What do I think? I think that my stepmother has been fucking her husband’s murder, alright.
“I had always suspected your father’s wife, you know. Right from the time the two got married. She has always had a shady relationship with Federico, so I didn’t agree with the marriage. I was still young at the time and it wouldn’t make sense to Roberto if I advised him otherwise,” he says.
So it has been going on this long.
That whore!
I have never trusted her from the time she married Papa but I was forced to act nice because I loved Papa so much and had to respect and support his decisions.
“I have enough evidence as per this case, Elsa. I just thought you should see the most recent. That was last Saturday. Saturday night, then she left on Sunday morning. They meet more often now that she is free from Roberto. I suspect that she is working with Federico and helping him against your family, Elsa,” he adds.
I drag a gust of air into my lungs. Fuck this! I get up from the chair and face Marcello.
“I am going to the farm,” I tell him. For once, I managed to shock him. His eyes widen in bewilderment.
“That is quite out of context. Don’t kill my animals,” he says, trying to cover up his amusement.
“I am not as heartless as you, Marcello. I wouldn’t hurt an animal. I am just trying to keep myself sane. This is too much information for me to take up. My head is hurting,” I tell him before walking out of his office. Thankfully, he doesn’t stop me. I don’t even know what to do. I don’t want to think anymore because my head is throbbing.
****