GINEVRA
I sat there in the thick night, observing the mess I and Ricardo made and watching the candles burn out, all the while pouring myself one shot after another of tequila—getting wasted and pondering on what my decision would be.
I had two things I wanted so badly. First, I wanted to have Ricardo killed in the most gruesome way possible. Second, I wanted to have Ricardo over at my house every other night, fucking me just the way he did a few minutes ago.
One thing was certain, my choice had to be one or the other.
There wasn’t anything in the world that could let me have both. So, I had to make a pick. Still, questions remained—what was my choice going to be? What choice was safer than the other? What would a head of a family do?
Footsteps had begun approaching from behind me, a few voices muttering words over and over again, and some, cackling loudly. I hadn’t cared to move or be alarmed by the sudden intrusion, because I had an inclination who those people were.