by Fawn Bailey
I was intent on finding her before she decided it was time for her to come out of hiding.
My task for the day was finding the illustrious L’Imperatore. After questioning one of the bellboys, I’d discovered the word meant The Emperor.
Of course it did. She kept playing these cards like they were supposed to mean something, but really, tarot had been nothing but child’s play for the three of us. Unless it meant more to Astor now than it did then. I knew I was being pulled into a world she had created for me to discover, so it wouldn’t surprise me in the least.
After my breakfast, I dressed in a pencil skirt and a cropped fluffy sweater, grabbing my purse and some necessities before leaving the hotel.
L'Imperatore had to be a company in Venice, or at the very least Italy. But since my sister lived right there in the city, I assumed the company was Venetian too.
I started my search at the flower market, walking from stall to stall, asking about L'Imperatore in broken sentences of Italian I'd picked up from my travel guide. People were looking at me weird, but I didn't care. I needed to get to the bottom of it all.
The market didn't prove to be of any help, so I decided to head through the cafés lining the Piazza San Marco and the palaces in the center of the city.
I asked and asked about the company until my voice grew sore. I was even carting one of the boxes around with me, showing it to the various people I'd asked and trying to get an answer out of them.
The most I received was an energetic response and then babbling in Italian that I could never make out. But finally, as I was walking down the street, I got lucky. I saw a flower shop by the street and a wave of nostalgia for my old life washed over me.
Everything had changed so much in the past week or so. I wondered whether anyone had noticed I was gone. Mr. Ventura, sure, but would there be anyone else who would miss me in the rainy metropole?
Somehow my thoughts wandered back to Hollyhock, to Jonathan Smith sipping his tea in that quiet cottage, reliving the past that had shaped all of our lives forever.
I found myself missing the days when everything was easier. When I was just a teenager, living with my sisters and parents and complaining about the usual stuff kids had problems with.
It all changed the day of the fire, and I couldn't forgive Astor for it. She'd changed my life forever, but at the same time, hadn't I changed hers too? It was my fault she had to go to the asylum. I also felt guilty that she'd been forced to stay there, but hadn't it been the best call?
A danger to herself and others.
Those words were on repeat in my mind, and I sighed heavily, pushing the past behind me where it belonged.
But still, the exterior of the gorgeous flower shop drew me in. I was carting the white box under my shoulder, and a woman of about sixty looked up when I walked in.
The shop was beautiful, filled with flowers that seemed to smell so much sweeter than they had at Petale. I greeted the woman and was surprised when she answered in perfect, unaccented English.
"American?" she asked me, and I nodded, which caused her to smile.
"Ah, one of The Emperor's!" she exclaimed, pointing to the box under my shoulder. "You must be Astor's sister."
My blood ran cold and my heart skipped a beat. Was it possible that I'd finally found the right place? Did this woman know my sister? Could she help me find her?
"I…," I started, closing the distance between us. "My sister. Where is she?"
"I believe she's staying at the Palazzo now," she replied, still giving me a friendly smile despite my obvious freak-out.
God, the gall. She'd booked the same hotel for me. I could've walked right past her on my way out and never even noticed.
"I have to go," I whispered.
"Wait," the woman called after me. "You… you look so much like her."
I offered her a weak smile.
"Did you have an order for L'Imperatore?" the woman asked, her face blank as she looked at me.
"What?" I asked. "Does… did my sister work for him?"
It seemed to dawn on the woman that I had no idea what she was talking about, as she visibly pulled back.
"Please," I begged her, reaching out. "I need to find her. It's important. Someone… someone could be in danger."
"Danger?" she repeated. "Not L'Imperatore?"
"Maybe," I bluffed. "If he's not warned about her."
"Goodness," the woman muttered, nervously chewing her bottom lip. "Well, I suppose I can't say no to that. You're trying to find her?"
"Yes." I nodded. "Or anyone who could tell me more about her."
"You'll want to go to L'Imperatore's house."
"How do I get there?"
"I'd have to arrange it for you. But if you are really Astor's sister, I'm sure L'Imperatore will have no problem seeing you."
She looked at me as if she expected me to say I'd been lying before.
"Why don't you call him, then?" I said. "Ask if I can come."
I didn't like these games we were playing, walking on eggshells.
She disappeared into the back of the shop, and I admired the flowers while trying my best to hear the conversation. However, she was speaking to someone on the phone in muttered tones and I barely overheard a thing.
Finally the woman appeared once more. "He says you can come. Astor only recently mentioned her sister might be coming to visit."
Of course she did, I thought bitterly. Another one of her twisted games.
"But she's not there at the moment," the woman went on. "Would you still like to go?"
I considered my options.
I could go back to the hotel, hope to run into Astor there. Maybe knock on every door at the Palazzo trying to find her.
Or I could make the trip to this illustrious Emperor and see what he was all about, what he knew about my sister. Maybe he could provide me with some valuable information.
"I'll go," I told the woman, and she motioned for me to follow her out back.
I fell into step behind her, and she gave me a glance as we made our way through the house.
"So alike, yet so different," she said thoughtfully.
I forced myself to keep my mouth shut.
I was nothing like my sister, but I didn't want to bring it to her attention that we didn't exactly get along. I had to get through this visit first.
We came out on the other side of the house, which was directly on the canal. A gondola awaited us, with a solemn-looking man holding an oar and glaring at me. The woman introduced him as Carlo.
He barked something at her in Italian and she nodded, then helped me into the boat as I just stared at her, wide-eyed with surprise.
"How am I going to get back?" I asked her.
"I'm sure L'Imperatore will arrange it," she reassured me. "Have a good trip, and good luck patching things up with your sister."
The gondola pulled away, the sullen-looking man not even looking at me as he started moving us toward our destination.
It was only a couple of minutes later that I realized the woman seemed to know my relationship with Astor was rocky, and I hadn't told her that. What if they were working together?
Had I just walked straight into a trap?
I would see soon enough.
It was starting to get dark outside when we reached our destination, afternoon becoming evening when we anchored in front of the house.
I gasped at the sight of it and Carlo snorted, as if he was used to that kind of reaction. But it truly was glorious.
It was an enormous property, completely surrounded by water. The house stood on a small island enclosed with a fence, and it seemed as if the only way to reach it was by boat. I had so many questions about the exquisite building, but it seemed Carlo wasn't much of a talker, so I kept them to myself.
He helped me off the boat, and I admired the structure from up close as he led me inside. It was built in the typical Venetian style, truly a sight to behold. It must have been a national treasure in its day
, but now it seemed like a rich man had bought it and selfishly kept it to himself.
I didn't like that. Art was supposed to be admired, not hidden. The house itself, barred in behind the fence, reminded me of a caged bird.
I was reminded of Kain and Ophelia yet again. And of course, with those thoughts came the memory of Ryker Marino.
I shook my head to clear my mind as Carlo handed me over to an official-looking assistant with a microphone clipped to his ear and a clipboard in his hand.
"You will follow me," he said in accented English. "L'Imperatore is busy, but he will be back anytime and would like you to wait for him."
I noticed he hadn't mentioned how long the journey had taken, or how late it was getting. I was a bit worried about going back, knowing it would be morning by the time I met this man and made it back to the hotel, but there seemed to be no room for objections, and he gave me a strict look when I tried to speak up. It shut me right up.
"Wait here, and I will bring some drinks and snacks for you," he said. "Would you like a magazine?"
"Sure."
Moments later, a maid appeared with a full trolley of food and tea, and a stack of magazines.
"Signore L'Imperatore apologize," she said. "He late today. But I here for you."
I smiled at her and relaxed into the armchair I was sitting in, admiring the gorgeous frescoes on the walls.
It seemed like I would be there for a while.
10
The Emperor
It was a busy day, filled with mindless tasks I didn't want to do, but someone had to.
My thoughts were once again on Ginger and on a way to get her back to me. The PI had discovered something, but he wanted to meet me in the city to discuss it.
I decided to meet up with Alberti at my favorite restaurant so we could go over what he’d found. "I think I found the town," he told me when we shook his hand, almost too excited to hold the information in. "It's called Hollyhock."
"Hollyhock," I repeated. "It does sound familiar."
"It has to be her. But you'll be shocked when you see everything I've found."
We sat at my regular table and pored over his findings together.
"She is part of a family, a big one," he went on. "Three girls. Twins, and Ginger, the oldest girl."
"I never knew she still had a family. I thought they were estranger. She never spoke of any sisters, or of her parents."
"Might be a good reason for that," Alberti muttered, pulling out a newspaper clipping. "Look at this. It's from a newspaper when she was seventeen years old."
I took the piece of paper in my hands, reading over the text.
"Her family died in a house fire? How tragic."
"Not all of them. She survived, along with one sister. Except as it turns out, the sister was the one who set fire to the house."
"What?" I furrowed my brows. "She killed her own parents? Her twin sister?"
"Seems that way." Alberti nodded solemnly. "Ginger was questioned about her."
"And what happened? Did the sister get away with it?"
"No, She was put in Hollyhock's local asylum."
"The one Ginger told me about." I nodded. "Was she unstable?"
"According to the police, yes. But here's the real catch. They questioned Ginger about it time and time again, and she always insisted her sister was innocent. That she hadn't meant to hurt anyone, that it was an accident."
"And then?"
"Tthen, on the day of the hearing, something changed." Alberti shrugged. "Because she testified against the girl. And it was her conviction of her sister's actions that sent the girl to the asylum."
"Wow," I muttered. "Something, or someone, must have convinced her the sister had really done it."
"Maybe. But there might be more to the story than we think."
"What happened after that?"
"It looks like Kain found her afterward. And this is the point where she came to work for him, just when she turned eighteen."
"She must have been struggling. Her testimony landed her sister in the asylum. But what changed her mind? What convinced her that she'd really done it?"
"I still don't know. But maybe you can ask her yourself."
I glared at him, my words barely a whisper as I said, "You found her?"
"I might as well have," Alberti informed me triumphantly. "All trace of her was lost after she worked for Kain. But she made an appearance in Hollyhock again."
"When?"
"Just last week. She visited an old family friend by the name of Jonathan Smith. I spoke to him on the phone. Nice chap."
"And?" I growled, demanding more information and soliciting a worried, almost scared look from Alberti.
Fucking good. Better to be feared than forgotten.
"And he gave her money to make a trip," he said.
"Where?"
"That's the real kicker," Alberti laughed. "I couldn't believe it—-"
I was up on my feet in seconds, grabbing him by the shirt as he huffed and puffed, drawing him closer over the table. His face reddened, and I could feel everybody's eyes on us.
"Where?" I growled again.
"H-Here," he stuttered. "She's here, in Venice."
"What?" My eyes widened. "Did she find me? Does she want to see me?"
"I don't th-think so," Alberti replied, and I let go of him, making him cough and sputter and glare at me as if I were the criminal.
We sat back down and I stared at him while he cleared his throat, pretending nothing happened.
"What then?" I demanded.
"I think," he said, leaning forward, " she's here to see her sister."
"The murderer? Who is it?"
He hesitated, but my look of warning seemed to be enough to convince him he didn't want a repeat of the previous scenario.
"Sir," he said regretfully. "I'm afraid… I…."
I kept glaring.
"It's Astor," he finally blurted.
"Astor?" I repeated. "My assistant? My…."
"Yes," Alberti answered after an uncomfortable silence. "I don't know if she knows of your connection to Ginger, but yes, it's her."
"Fuck," I muttered. "Where is she staying?"
"A dingy hotel outside the city. I can take you there after we eat—"
I didn't wait, just threw some hundred-euro bills on the table and stalked out of the room.
With a sigh, Alberti followed.
Hours later, we'd searched the dingy hotel from top to bottom. No one knew a thing, not until the manager came to work and informed us Miss Adley's things had been moved to the Palazzo.
The Palazzo, where Astor was staying. My girl could be in danger.
With my heart still pounding from all the new information, Alberti and I made our way to the fancy hotel, where the staff informed us she wasn't there. They also said Astor was out.
My blood fucking chilled. Was she going to hurt Ginger? I could never let that happen.
Just then I received a call from my assistant, Vittorio.
"Hello, sir," he said. "You have a visitor here at the house."
"Astor?" I barked.
"No. She says she's her sister. They do look alike."
Adrenaline pumped through my body.
"Don't let her go anywhere," I instructed. "And keep your eyes on her. Someone needs to guard her, watch her. I swear to God, Vittorio, if something happens to that girl, I will fucking kill you."
"Y-yes, sir," he responded shakily. "When can we expect you?"
"As soon as I can get there."
I ended the call and explained things to Alberti. We said a brusque goodbye in front of the Palazzo, after which I called the driver of my boat. The motorboat was faster, and I was hoping to reach the house in less than thirty minutes.
As we drove, the boat crashing into wave after wave, I let my mind wander for the first time in years. There was so much Ginger hadn't told me. She'd been hiding things from me, but I suspected as much from the moment I'd met her.
> I couldn't imagine what it had been like to condemn her sister to a life in the Hollyhock Asylum. That must've wreaked havoc on Ginger. How was she coping with it? Did she know who I was?
I called my assistant to check if she knew about me, but reception was shit on the boat and the call wouldn't go through.
My thoughts filled with Astor next. The little snake I'd fed while she grew stronger and stronger. Did she know about Ginger? Did she know about our past? Was this her little fucked-up idea of revenge?
I needed to make sure Ginger was all right, but Astor was next on my list. If she really was the psychopath Alberti's research had showed her to be, I needed to get her as far away from her sister as possible.
Guilt racked my brain as I thought of Astor. I'd fucked Ginger's sister, and I already knew she would never forgive me for that.
I needed to find out if she already knew, then find the perfect moment to tell her. I only had one goal in mind, only one outcome from all of this, and it involved Ginger and me together, with Astor locked up.
I stood up as we approached the property and was off the boat before we'd even docked properly. I ran toward the house, my heart beating faster than ever as I tracked down Vittorio.
"Where is she?" I barked at him. "Are you keeping a fucking eye on her?"
"Y-yes," he stuttered. "The maid, Carlotta, is with her."
"Where?"
"The sitting room. She asked about you a few times. I don't think she knows your name."
A smile found its way to my lips.
My little treasure had no idea what she'd stumbled upon. What the fuck was she doing here, then? It had to do something with her sister. I was sure of it.
I took a deep breath, standing outside the sitting room. I could almost feel her presence, and it was fucking electrifying. I'd never wanted her more.
I rounded my shoulders and entered the room with a confident smile.
And there she was, standing right in front of me, every bit as beautiful as she had been seven years ago. Except now there was more—so much more that I couldn't look away. My eyes remained glued to her, drinking in every single one of her features, committing them to memory in case she disappeared from my life again.
