Chapter 3 - Lilies for Friday
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The estate was suffocatingly quiet. The vibrant, bustling energy that usually surrounded the Russo compound had been replaced by a heavy, funeral-like silence.
Damian sat in his wheelchair near the burning fireplace of his bedroom, a thick wool blanket draped over his legs. The pain medication he had supposedly taken was flushed down the toilet, leaving him sharp, focused, and in agonizing physical pain from the crash.
Vivian stood ten feet away, near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the rainy gardens. She had her back to him, her cell phone pressed tightly to her ear. She was speaking in a hushed, urgent tone, assuming Damian was too heavily sedated to comprehend her words.
"No, don't cancel the lilies," Vivian whispered into the phone, her voice cold and businesslike. "Just move the delivery to Friday. The arrangements need to be impeccable."
Damian’s jaw tightened. She wasn't discussing a wedding postponement, a specialist from Switzerland, or a wheelchair ramp for the estate.
She was discussing his funeral.
She thought the man beneath the blanket couldn’t feel his legs. She thought Damian Russo was a dying animal, fading away in a chair.
What Vivian did not know was that Damian could feel a violent muscle cramp burning through his left calf. The pain was so fierce that he had to drive his fingernails into his own palms to keep his leg from kicking out and stretching.
"Yes, Friday," Vivian repeated. "The transition needs to be seamless. Have the lawyers draft the power of attorney immediately."
As she spoke, a quiet figure moved in the periphery of the room. It was Maya, one of the newer housemaids. She wore a simple, dark uniform, holding a crystal pitcher of ice water. She moved like a ghost, silently refilling Damian’s glass on the bedside table.
Maya’s dark eyes flicked toward Vivian by the window, then down to Damian. She saw his white-knuckled grip on the armrests. She saw the sweat beading on his forehead from the suppressed cramp in his leg.
She paused, the glass pitcher hovering in the air. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second.
May you like
Damian held his breath, waiting for her to speak, waiting for her to expose the truth that his legs were fully functional.
Instead, Maya silently placed the glass down, turned her back to Vivian, and stepped deliberately in front of Damian’s wheelchair, blocking Vivian’s line of sight just as a violent tremor shook his left leg.
