Fleur's POV:
Time is passing, but I'm still stuck. In a place where I know nothing, nothing about what I want or what I'm supposed to do. Trapped in a moment, a moment of exhilaration, a moment I keep going back to, and he probably doesn't.
I'm torn between finally letting go and accepting that maybe this is not how things were supposed to work out. That maybe not all dreams come true, and the glimpse of a life I thought I might get was just a lie. The truest thing I have felt in my entire life was fake. At this point, it's me who is at fault, not him. I'm still thinking, visiting, and living that moment, but he isn't, he's moving on. Like anyone would.
The more I try to forget, the more I keep getting pulled back to his smile and his face. I keep getting imprisoned by his eyes, just like everything he has ever felt. Just like all the secrets that rage behind his grey eyes. It's not fair that I'm still there on the beach, but he's back here. Women walking in and out, undoubtedly for him, while I have to serve them.
"Ugh, I can't stand them." Nina declared. Today was no different. A woman walked into his study, and he asked for service. I do miss the days when we barely saw his face because he was out 'working'. Whatever that used to be. He seems to not be out of his vacation phase yet, despite us being 2 weeks into January already.
"You. Fleur. Fillip wants his lunch up now," the witch came in saying.
"Agnes, you do know I can't stand his face, don't you?" I ask just to make it clear, although I know she knows. Everyone heard our fight last week, especially her with the way she greeted me with a smile and almost hugged me the time I returned to the kitchen. She loves to antagonise me, this woman.
"I do know, sweetheart. We all heard you yelling at him, surprised that he hadn't disciplined you yet. Anyway, he asked for you." She says this with her buck teeth sticking out of her slimy smile.
"Oh, for god's sake, tell him he can fu-"
"Wait, Nina. He did?" I ask, and Agnes shakes her head yes. "Well, that could be great fun, don't you think, Nina?" I added. She looked at me questionably, and I just smiled, took the tray of food Nina had been preparing, and went to his office. Mind you, I really can't stand his face, but somehow I need him. I still wanted to ask for help for my sister. If he still has any human emotions in him, then he might help me.
I have nothing to stay here for, but I know I can never leave. The least I could do, now that I actually have a more stable life and an actual job, is search for my sister. At least to get some sense of closure.
Before even knocking, Leo stops me, knocks on the door himself, and then enters upon Fillip's command. Seconds later, he motions that I can go inside, which I do.
The woman seated in front of his desk looks very posh, and fortunately for me, she is actually in her own chair fully clothed; I wouldn't really be surprised if she wasn't. I look at her and then realise that she doesn't seem like the woman Fillip has been having here. She's rather older; her coal-black hair is pulled into a tight bun. To the point where I'm sure that if her hairline could speak, it would be screaming for help. She studies me, then smiles.
"Oh, for god's sake," I mumble under my breath and slightly slam the tray on Fillip's desk.
"Is there a problem, Fleur?"
"Actually yes. Would you please tell your guests and everyone in this house to stop eyeing me this way?"
"What way?" His words took every last bit of self-control in me not to yell in his face.
"Now stop this, Fillip. I suppose I was excited to meet your guest. Especially after the stories I heard." A Cheshire cat smile stretched on the woman's face while she puffed her cigarette smoke in my direction, showing her extremely white teeth as it forced her face to stretch into clearly unnatural creases. She didn't only look posh; she sounded it. The way she elegantly and confidently spoke English with her imperfect accent in a low tone. Her voice is too deep; you can tell the cigarettes she's been smoking have had their effects. If Agnes had a human, contradicting version of herself, that would definitely be her.
"Excited to meet me?" baffled, I asked.
"Yes, you," and that's it; she didn't even elaborate, then turned around, looking at Fillip as if waiting for me to leave.
"F- Sir. I wanted to speak with you."
"Not now; I'm busy." By the time he was finished with his dismissal, I was already seated across from the woman and in front of Fillip. He was the one who asked for me in the first place.
"It's important." The woman gave me a questioning look. Can't help if she thinks the whole world revolves around her. And as for Fillip, well, he really couldn't do anything that hadn't been done already. So there I sit, the woman looking at me like she wants to dab that cigarette into my eye, while Fillip hides his face with his hand, trying not to smirk. Well, I'm not really happy with that, but if it's one-up on that woman, then good for me.
"I will wait for you in the car, as we agreed. You better not be late." She says the last part while glaring daggers at me.
When she finally leaves, Fillip removes his eye from the door and looks at me, spreading his hand wide, saying, "I am all yours."
"No, you are not," I say with a frown. "Don't say that."
"What can I help you with, Fleur?" He says it with so much ease, like everything he has done to me since day one is okay, but that's not why I'm here. My sister is more important than the anger I am feeling towards him.
"My sister." His eyes stay fixated on me, and his face does not change. "Um, she was..." Then I stop talking, trying to choose my next words carefully. Not for him, no, but for me. In the first few months, I almost believed she wasn't dead. It was keeping me awake at night when I did not want to sleep. Kept the hope until the first house I was sent to, when the hope started to crumple away from me in the nights when I was knocked to sleep. Then even the picture of her wasn't keeping me awake.
I've never said she was dead before, not out loud at least. I tried to deny it as much as I could on those bleak, chilling nights. Sometimes I do wish those bullets were indeed aimed at her heart because of what she would have endured if Alberto did take her, and then I think that I am an awful human being because I should have protected her. It does not matter that much right now, does it? Either way, her heart stopped beating long ago.
"She's dead." I finally said it. Fillip stares at me while moving in his chair, shifting uncomfortably, waiting for me to continue. "I just wanted to make sure that she is...or isn't."
"When did it happen?"
"Six years ago, she would have turned 22 last year." A sniffle escapes me, and I hold my hand to my face, trying to stop the tears. He doesn't care anyway. "It was when Alberto, uh, took me, and I heard him shoot them. I just want to make sure."
"Them?"
"My father and sister." If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that Alberto killed my father. He didn't pay his money and ran away, he would never let something like that slide.
"Ok," is all he said, and I nodded quickly, leaving before I cried in front of him. I rushed through the house, not going anywhere in particular, and ended up on one of the terraces overlooking the huge green gardens.
"I miss them too." A voice startled me; it was Leo.
"Excuse me?"
"My family. Pardon me, I heard your conversation with Fillip. I know it might not seem like much, but I promise you he will do his best to find them—that's what he did for me. Have faith, Fleur; you never know." Tears were freely going down my face right now as his hand patted my shoulder, and then he hugged me. For as long as I needed before letting go. His embrace is somehow a comfort to be around, unlike Fillip, who just reminds me of the pain I have been through for the past 6 years, even though I believed him when he said Fillip would do his best. I stayed on the balcony for, I do not know, how long. I stayed until the sun was starting to set and the cool breeze was starting to grow too cold for me to stand in my red maid's dress with nothing to cover me. So I got back inside. Before leaving, I saw Fillip getting into his black Mercedes, probably with the woman who was in his office earlier. He also noticed me, despite the fact that he had sunglasses on. We locked gazes for a short while.
When I got back into the kitchen, Nina was just coming back inside as well; she realised something was wrong but didn't question it. "Where were you?" I was genuinely curious.
"With Fillip, before he left," she answered quickly. That's weird; their conversation never lasted more than 5 minutes without endless shouting and banter. "What were you talking about?"
"You know, just work." She didn't want me to know. Which was something that I respected, so I didn't continue pressing on that matter.
"And who was that woman he left with?"
"Oh, that's Donatella Maldini." She said the name as if it were supposed to mean something, which was weird. " She was Marie's mother, Fillip's dead wife, After Marie died, Dona and her husband went back to Italy, having nothing left here, but they stayed in touch with Fillip. Kept a cigarette business going on, even though they didn't need the money. Just to still have a connection, you know." It takes me a moment to take all that in, and when I do recollect the events in Fillip's study, I now understand why she wanted to see me. I bet that's why Fillip called me to his study anyway.
*******
It's been too much today, too tiring, especially because Nina left after our conversation earlier and didn't appear again, and now I had to face Agnes' bullshit alone. I don't know when that happened, but apparently, she's back to antagonising me; it's as if she wants me out of here, this woman. Jokes on her: I want out too.
I'm sitting on one of the kitchen stools, my eyes drooping, and just by keeping my eyes open, my head hurts. Holding the cup of water that I am trying to drink after a long day of work in the kitchen, rooms, and lately, the gardens seem to need a great deal of energy. After finally swallowing some water, I rest my head on the marble in front of me to relax a bit.
I don't know how much later I heard something crash outside. It sent me jolting, and I looked around at the mostly dark kitchen; no one was there. I don't want to go outside because I'm scared to see something I wouldn't like. The first thing I do see when I walk outside is the white vase from one of the small decorative tables around the dining room on the floor and the brown small table tipped off beside it on the red carpet. I continue to look around; there are no guards in sight. Then I hear shuffling from under the huge dining table.
"What the heck?" I asked no one in particular. The shuffling noise continues as I slowly approach the dining table. Slowly, I squatted down to take a look, and the thing I had never imagined I would see in a mafia house—not under their table, not ever—was sitting right there, staring right at me.
"Hey!" I said it hesitantly. The kid didn't answer.
"Would you like to get out of under there?" The little kid shakes her head, yes, and I extend my hand towards her. She takes a look, then finally takes it, and I help her out. When she's out, I study her; she must not be older than 8, and she continues to stare while shaking. "Are you cold?" I ask, and she only nods again. I took off the jacket I had on the red dress and draped it over her shoulder, then I picked her up.
"Where did you come from?" I mumble, walking to the kitchen.
"My dad brought me here," she answered. I did not expect that since the only thing she did was nod.
"Where do you think your daddy is then?" No answer.
"Alright then, what is his name?" No answer either. I have no idea what to do with this kid, and I am hungry. Kids like to eat, don't they? I decide I will make our food and then try asking her about her dad again. Quickly, I prepare both of us a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and the kid just devours it; she was definitely hungry.
After we are both done, I take both our plates, start washing them, and try again. "Can you tell me what his name is?" The only answer I get is a head shake. Who in their damn right mind would even bring their child to a house like this? It's not a children's day at work, for the love of God. After trying a couple more times, I finally come to terms with the fact that this girl will not give me anything, not even her name, so I take her with me to my room and plan on asking Leo tomorrow if any of the people here have brought their children with them.
When we enter my room, she walks around looking at everything, including the small bookshelf me and Nina brought. She opens my wardrobe and gasps, but she touches the most foreign thing in it. His jacket, "alright, not ours this," embarrassed I was, from having his jacket, even after all the things he did, with me and a kid seeing it.
Instead, she pulls a peach-coloured shirt of mine from inside and holds onto it. That makes me remember my younger sister taking my clothes and me taking care of her since my mother died, but she was older than 7, and this girl seemed to be stubborn. Not only that, but also because she doesn't know me. I don't know how to get her to do anything.
"You still don't want to tell me your dad's name?" She shakes her head. "God help me, alright, my name is Fleur; what's yours?"
No answer. "Want to take a bath?" Another head shake. "Ok, so talk to me," I tell her, and she looks at my braided hair, which took me hours to get right on myself, and then points at it.
"You want your hair like this?" I asked with the biggest smile on my face, not just for the fact that I got her to communicate but also because French braids were my sister's favourite hairstyle. Some days I could even refuse to style her hair for her because of how much she asked me to. If only I knew.
"Ok, wait for me on the bed," I say, walking to the bathroom and getting the extra brush Nina forced me to buy. 'You never know when you will need an extra one.' Well, she was right. Walking back to my bed, I watched the girl still studying her surroundings. "You had your hair washed today?"
"My grandma gave me a bath before I came here," She says in her soft voice, and I nod, continuing to brush her hair. It takes 10 minutes, and I am done. "You know, my sister always used to ask me to do these for her." It looks amazing—her brown hair tugged into these braids. I almost cry as I picture Emma sitting between my legs the same way. Then she turns and smiles at me, and so does this girl. I smile and hug her back.
"I am tired; do you want to sleep?" I ask, and she tells me yes, so I help her change into my shirt, which looks massive on her. She raises her hand in the air, giggling, making me do so with her. Then she jumps on me, holding on, making me laugh harder.
"Now shhh before someone hears us." When I said that, I meant mostly Fillip; his room is next to mine, and I have no idea how he would react to one of his workers' kids in here. She laughs again, but more quietly this time. I tug both of us into bed, and we go to sleep smiling.
******************
I jerked on my bed, startled. Surprisingly, it was not because of a nightmare but rather because of a slam that caused the disturbance. To further my shock, it was Fillip who had slammed my bedroom door open, and for the first time, I saw fear—actual fear—overtake his usually stoic face. Eyes frantic, wide as an owl's searching the room, landing on my bed. Then, a more familiar emotion morphed into anger. He looks at the girl sleeping next to me, the one for whom I have no idea whose daughter she is or what even her name is, and he strides with purpose towards her.
My first instinct was to protect her, so I put an arm in front of her turning form. His eyes snapped to mine, and the outrage radiating from him sent a visible shake through my weak shoulders. I had thought I had seen all the bad in him and imagined everything that he could do, but oh, how I was wrong. Right now was something entirely else: knuckles getting drained from all the red in them, chest heaving, racing to take enough breath, yet nothing seemed to calm him down until.
"Daddy?!"
Fillip's eyes snapped back to the girl and disregarded me completely. His eyes softened as his chest fell, releasing all the breath he'd been holding. The girl jumped over my legs and into his open embrace, saying, "Mia, sweetheart." His hand wrapped tightly around her small frame, his body shuddering as he let go of another tight breath. On the other hand, I was still in my place, trying to comprehend what the hell I just heard and what was happening.
"Fillip, we still can't-" Leo and Nina stop in their tracks when they see Fillip holding his daughter. My mouth was still agape in an utter state of shock. Taking one look at me, Nina's face dissolves into a grimace. This wasn't the way I should have found out—if I even had to. They left, closing the door, while Fillip was still hugging Mia.
"Daddy, what do you think?" Mia asked, motioning to her head, excited but oblivious to what was happening. He lets her go, putting her back on the bed, hands on his waist, not looking at me as a small smile appears on his lips when he looks at her braids. "Fleur made them, just like her sister's," Mia continued to cheer. With her cheerfulness, my heart sank at the mention of my sister. Looking away, I stand up, walking past Fillip and his daughter on the bed.
"Mia, maybe you could leave and go to your room with Leo and Nina?" She agreed and left; the door clicked after her, yet a presence made itself clear at the pathway of the open bathroom door.
"Fleur." He had his hands crossed over his chest as he looked at me in the mirror.
"I don't want to hear it." I slam my brush on the sink and turn to look at him. "It's your own life, Fillip, and your daughter's; I couldn't care less who you trust with it, even if it's not me."
"I had to protect Mia," he approached me when I turned around. He even tried to touch me, his hand reaching out for my arm, but I stepped back quickly, not giving him the chance to come any closer.
"Good for her; she's protected. I don't see a reason we should even be having this conversation. Now, if you would please leave, I have to change. A job to do."
He reluctantly cast a final glance at me, his lips forming a disappointed expression, before complying with my request. With disappointment, that probably doesn't have good reasoning. I go on with my day, avoiding everyone—Nina, Fillip, and Leo. I just do what Agnes asks me to do to get done with this already long day.