piggy bank

Francessa was discharged from the hospital after Two months and one week later. ofcourse, the news has spread like a raging fire in a forest and by the dirty looks the hospital staff was throwing her way, she was sure their was a horde of nasty reporters out there creating a scene, harassing anyone who enters or exits with intrusive questions. the fact that she was the source of such disrupt of peacefulness meant for a place such as hospital was discomfiting.

her left arm was still in a sling so a nurse helped her dress in dark baggy jeans and an olive sweater. courtesy of Afonso. the feel of new warm clothes against the tacky hospital gown had her sighing in comfort although her new attire was nothing like she used to dress. maybe it was true that a traumatic, eye openeing experience could change us in more ways than one. she didnt care about her external image anymore when she had finally acknowledged how rotten she was from the inside.

Francessa was thankful that the nurse was professional and wasn't pestering to take a quick selfie or taking on the role of an unwanted reporter.

it was the start of January and was snowing outside so the nurse draped a warm coat over her shoulders. Francessa have her a smile of gratitude and a quick thankful even when she wasn't obliged to and propped her black shades on her nose to hide the still fading bruise under her eye.

Two bodyguards dressed in black suits with ear pieces firmly planted to their heads escorted her outside and away from her sanctuary of two months and she couldn't have been more happy but her excitement was quickly dwindling down as she approached the exit and winced in annoyance when the reporters perked up like kids finally getting their candy. she swore to god nothing infuriated her more than that pathetic sight but she had to maintain her composure and control her sudden desire to rage and scream at them to let her live her life but it will only add insult to the injury and would give the world more gossip to discuss the unfortunate miserable Francessa Ducate.

A ring of bulky bodyguards barricaded her against the reporters as she exited and she couldn't help but cringe as they bombarded question on her.

"How are you feeling?" the question meant in a concerned tone. francessa raised her head towards a young reporter to pushing behind her bodyguard. she was about to give a one word answer but the sudden shine of glee and thrill in her eyes had her glaring at the bitch from behind her shades. her initial forced decision to respect their profession and answer some of the questions was down the drain now.

"what do you have to say about the Accident?"

"was it really an Accident of a well planned Assassination?"

"Do you think it's connected to the murder of your father?"

"Are you going to take over the company now and what are your plans now?"

the fact that the public was more invested in her life disturbed her and she wanted to crawl in a hole and never see the light of day again. but she was born a Ducate. A multi-billionaire at the age of twenty two. A spoilt, rich missy with more wealth than she knew what to do with. that itself made her a public property to pick and prod at however they wanted. just because she wasn't like them and was born with a golden spoon up her a*s but no more.

she had enough of this. of being a silent bystander to her own destruction and downfall.

The ride back to her family estate was spent in a blur and she had no recollection of her way back home or how the rows of servants welcomed her safe return at the threshold.

her eyes were trained on the immaculate, well tended lawns surrounding the double story monstrosity of sleek black glass and sharp wooden edges. remorse and longing ensnared her heart in a wise grip and her throat worked as she reminisced about her days spent in this very lawn years ago. how her father used to Chase her a around still dressed to the nine in his office attire.

he loved his daughter and she was ever thing to him but how did she repay him? by refusing to acknowledge how he was robbed of his life? Oh God! she wanted die. she was so ashamed to be her father's daughter. she didn't deserve a father like that. he deserved a daughter better than her.

she wiped at the angry guilt ridden tears from her eyes as she stomped inside.

Alfonso turned and watched the young miss. she was clearly upset. his words earlier that day were not meant to hurt but to jolt her awake. and it seemed like they have served the purpose. it was about time the young miss realised her life wasn't really a bed of roses but a pit of venemous snakes.

Francessa froze. she couldn't believe what she was witnessing. the main hall of the mansion was filled with her realitives who were chatting amongst themselves oblivious of the figure standing in the foyer. she eyed the flutes of champagne in bewilderment and it was like a slap to her face who had nothing left to celebrate in her life. a wave of sudden ire and she gritted her teeth. what the fuck were they even doing in her damn house, drinking her champagne and mingling as if everything was alright and smooth sailing?

she wasn't in her right mind to entertain such fools but before she could make a discreet escape her Aunt Marlena spotted her and screeched.

"Francessa!" the whole hall quietened and a dozen heads whiped her way.

Francessa tired to smile but it went stiff as her gaze bounced from one face to another. all familar ones she was used to tolerating but today something felt off. or maybe she was too lost inside her head to ever notice how fake their smiles were or how forced their enthusiasm was as one by one they hugged her and thanked god that she was save back home. she suddenly had an eerie deja vu of how she would behave so her mom would let her have the cookie from the jar or how she would smile at that quite introverted girl in her class to relax her...

to let her gaurd down...

they wanted something from her.

and Francessa Ducate had a lot to give.

her insides turned to ice when she met Alfonso's blank eyes and found the same conclusion there. it was as if she had suddenly aged a thousand years.

"Come inside. let me look at you." Marlena dragged her inside towards the rest of unwanted guests and she grimaced. something caught her eye and her eyes narrowed into slits.

"Nice pearls, Aunt Marlena." She commented through clenched teeth. the pearls were symbolic jewellery of grief and mourning. Francessa was stuck somewhere between anger and shock. it was hard to digest that these very obvious signs of their not very pure hearts and godwill were their all this while and was so oblivious to everything. she didnt know if to call herself dumb or downright stupid. of course the air head didn't notice her accusation and smothered the damned pearls before flashing her a smile.

"Oh these! Farid gifted them to me! they are more the latest collection of Juene-" she blabbered on and Francessa tuned it all out. her eyes met with her uncle's or more like her late father's cousins. their smiles appeared harmless yet she could clearly feel the cunning behind them. their sons were watching her too but their hostility wasn't as expertly concealed as their professional parents and she felt as if a bucket of cold water was unceremoniously thrown over her head.

her relatives were greedy fucking pigs and she felt like their personal piggy bank. they had their beady eyes trained on her wealth.

she wondered if they had the balls to kill for her wealth too...

or she could be terribly wrong and this sudden seed of mistrust might just be her delusion after all she was adept at never thinking thoroughly.

"Alfonso serve the dinner. enjoy the night. I will take my leave. am not feeling quite alright so I will call it a night early." her aunts made a face but Francessa knew better. Farid stepped forward and tried to give her a rest assuring squeeze. the touch of his warm palm made her skin crawl and she shifted back. if Farid noticed, he didn't let it show in his face.

"we all are so glad that you're safe. you can go and take a rest. I will see you next week."

As Francessa made a beeline for her room, the words of her uncle rang through her head in an omnious voice.

she wondered if she would make it until next week.

only the time will tell.