22

MILLIE
As the taxi glided to a stop in front of the stately apartment building, I exchanged fare with the driver, exiting the vehicle as I glanced around. The glass facade of the building caught my attention, and there, within the well-lit lobby, an unexpected sight held me captive. It was one of Gio’s cousins, Nessa, seated there. The perplexing question echoed in my mind: What brought her here? Our previous interaction had been limited to a few words during the wedding, and there had been no inkling of her seeking camaraderie. With a mixture of bewilderment and intrigue, I made my way towards the entrance.
Nessa’s eyes darted towards me, her posture straightening as recognition struck. Without a hint of hesitation, she closed the distance between us, enfolding me in a hug that sent shockwaves of surprise through me. Even more astonishing, she slipped something into my hand before breaking the embrace. Her voice carried a note of urgency, “Here. Keep this hidden from Dario or anyone else. And remember, wear a smile.”
Stunned by this sudden exchange, I complied with a dazed smile. The weight of a folded paper and a key pressed into my palm, and with a subtle grace, I concealed them within my purse just as Dario materialized by my side. His voice carried a tinge of suspicion as he addressed Nessa, “What brings you here, Nessa?”
Her response was swift, a display of teeth and charm, “I was checking in on Millie, and we discussed meeting up for lunch. But duty calls-I have a hair appointment.” Her gaze held a subtle warning before she departed, each click of her high heels echoing on the marble floor.
Dario’s gaze lingered on me, a question unspoken. “What was that about?”
“Exactly what she said,” I replied, my chin lifting defiantly. If he wanted me to play the part of his boss, he couldn’t expect me to readily reveal my thoughts. With a curt nod to the receptionists, he guided me toward the elevator.
The moment we stepped into the opulent penthouse, a sense of urgency propelled me towards the guest bathroom. With haste, I retrieved the items Nessa had surreptitiously passed to me-a folded piece of paper and an enigmatic key.
Unfolding the paper, I found a message inked with digital precision:
‘Millie, the key grants access to one of the Merante-owned apartments. Visit tonight at ten pm to uncover the truth about your husband’s nocturnal activities. Be cautious, be quiet, and above all, tell no one. Dario will try to dissuade you. Shake him off.’
The address was neatly etched at the bottom, the signature conspicuous in its absence. The note bore all the hallmarks of Nessa’s touch, logical given the circumstances. I read and re-read the words, the gravity of the situation tugging at my curiosity. Gio’s presence as a husband had been shadowy at best, and this could be an opportunity to uncover the obscured truth. Yet, trepidation gnawed at me. Could this be a ruse, or perhaps something far more dangerous? However, curiosity held me in its thrall, a determination to unearth reality from the depths of secrecy.
Gio’s constant proximity posed a challenge. The weight of decision bore down on me heavily, but I devised a plan. Convincing Dario to venture out for dinner at a nearby restaurant, I seized the moment he used the guest bathroom to discreetly acquire a small firearm from a drawer. It was a cautious measure, as my familiarity with guns was primarily theoretical, but safety outweighed uncertainty.
With the evening inching closer to its clandestine rendezvous, Dario and I found ourselves dining, the prospect of unraveling the mystery looming. As I stood to make my way to the restroom, Dario’s intention to accompany me was evident. A glare and a curt reminder asserted my independence, compelling him to remain seated. The bathroom, a short distance away, provided a brief window for my escape. Swiftly, I exchanged my footwear, opting for comfort and stealth as I embarked on my mission.
The brownstone building loomed ahead, a wave of uncertainty sweeping over me. The absence of a reception area gave an aura of clandestinity, and the narrow corridor led to a steep staircase. Summoning my resolve, I ventured forth, compelled by a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The third floor awaited, and a concealed elevator became my conduit. Doubt danced on the fringes of my determination, but a hunger for the truth propelled me forward.
The elevator’s ascent was accompanied by a crescendo of doubt, the realization of potential danger gnawing at me. The opening doors beckoned me to reconsider, to retreat, yet a relentless curiosity spurred me onward. I stood before the apartment door, the key a tangible symbol of my next step. A threshold, half-opened, cast a shaft of light into the hallway. Inhaling deeply, I crossed it and entered the unknown.
The living room sprawled in darkness, an eerie void contrasted by faint light seeping from an adjacent room. The gun tucked away, I ventured further, my steps measured and silent. Then, a woman’s voice pierced the air, and I froze. A familiar voice. It was Alyssa Black, and her fervent cries were laden with desire. The room’s entrance emitted a radiant glow, a spectacle that held a grim revelation.
Alyssa knelt before the bed, Gio behind her, lost in their illicit ardor. The sounds of their passion resonated painfully in the air, a tableau of infidelity painted before me. Alyssa’s eyes met mine, a triumphant smile curving her lips. The surge of revulsion and betrayal was visceral. A tempest of emotions raged within me, battling between a desire for confrontation and the yearning to retreat from this sordid spectacle.
For a fleeting, reckless moment, I entertained the notion of wielding the gun against her, a fantasy swiftly curtailed by reality. Deflated, I took a step back, the weight of the truth settling heavily upon me. Gio’s gaze snapped open, his initial motion towards a nearby gun halted as he recognized me. His expression contorted, a whirlwind of shock and recognition.
In that charged moment, the boundaries of our world trembled, and I found myself on the precipice of a reality I had never bargained for.
“What’s troubling you, Gio?” Alyssa inquired, playfully pressing herself against him, their connection still intimate. Meanwhile, Gio and I locked eyes, and a surge of tears welled up within me.
In a whirlwind of emotions, I spun around abruptly and fled. The urgency to distance myself gripped me. Stepping out of the elevator onto the first floor, my body trembled uncontrollably, yet I pressed on. The need to escape was overwhelming. I nearly collided with Dario, who must have tracked my location through my phone’s GPS. Startled, he staggered back, his gaze shifting from my face to the building, his eyes widening with realization. He knew. It seemed everyone knew, everyone except me, lost in my own oblivion.
Without hesitation, I stormed away, propelled by a rush of energy unlike any other. As I ran, the world around me became a blur. The street outside beckoned, and I hastily maneuvered through it, narrowly avoiding bumping into pedestrians. Dario’s presence persisted; he pursued me relentlessly. But my determination fueled my speed. All those hours spent on the treadmill paid off in this very moment.
As I crossed the street, my gaze flickered to the entrance of the underground station. In that brief glance, I caught sight of Gio, disheveled, his shirt unbuttoned, struggling out of the doorway. Dario’s pursuit was relentless, yet my determination outpaced them both.
With a sense of urgency, I dashed down the stairs, my hand fumbling for the Metro card that my sisters and I had procured just before the wedding, a day that seemed so distant now. Squeezing into the subway car as the doors began to close, I didn’t even take note of the destination. All that mattered was distance. Distance from the smug satisfaction in Alyssa’s gaze, from the disheartening sounds of Gio and her, from the betrayal that cut so deeply.