1
Cesar
My little mouse is hungry again. I can feel it as I lean over and inspect my treasures. Each gemstone is handpicked, each necklace scrutinized, each bit of silver or gold or platinum weighed and recorded. For years I’ve amassed this glittering collection of everything my mouse could desire, and she covets each single item.
I want her to covet them. To be overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of each piece. After all, I selected them with her in mind. I run my fingers along a sapphire necklace that could never shine as bright as her. She won’t take this tonight. My little mouse is very careful to only snatch small things.
So I look through my loose gemstones and choose a smattering of diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and a few aquamarines in case she’s feeling a bit more pedestrian this evening. The rest I carefully place inside my vault, then turn the locking mechanism until the metal bars thunk solidly into place and the interior light comes on, showing the sparkling jewels through impenetrable layers of bulletproof glass and cross bars of steel.
My little mouse will be along shortly.
She’s coming to steal from me, to take a swipe at the man who controls her entire world. She thinks I’m the evil puppet master pulling all the strings, but I’m the only reason she and her family are alive. Their debt to me can never be paid, and if they leave my estate, their enemies will find them.
But she doesn’t know any of that. Innocent, brave, and young, she doesn’t know the truth. I’ve been careful to keep it from her. But my little mouse is devious. She flaunts herself in my house, her body ripe and ready for the taking. Growing more wild by the day, my little mouse should be careful. She tempts the beast in me.
I keep my distance, because I want her to see me for who I really am and to submit to me willingly. And soon she will. But I play this little game with her for now. I let her think she’s stealing from me.
But she can’t steal what she already owns.
Each trinket here belongs to her.
Just as she belongs to me.
2
Valentina
“I’ll never get used to how big this house is,” I say to my mom before I run a few feet and start to flip. My hands meet the wooden floor as I twist and turn my body, starting in a cartwheel and quickly changing into back handsprings all the way down the east hall of the mansion.
“If you break something, I’ll tan your ass,” Mom shouts at me as I tumble to a stop.
I glance to my left where a beautiful vase sits atop an equally beautiful hand carved wooden table. There’s an expensive looking painting that hangs above it.
Yes, what would happen if I were to have knocked the vase or painting down? I’m sure all of it costs more than what a normal person makes in a year. Not that I know anything about being normal. I may have at one time, but I was too young to remember how it felt. I don’t feel much these days. This prettied-up prison may make it seem as though I’ve got everything, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth.
“I call your bluff.” I pick up the vase as my mom makes her way down the hallway. Her long dark hair, which I’ve inherited, falls into her face as she rushes to get to me.
“Valentina.” She sighs my name as I toss the priceless vase into the air before catching it easily again. “Will you stop trying to give me a heart attack?” She puts her hands on her hips.
“Sorry.” I put the vase back down.
My mom has never raised a hand to me. She isn’t going to tan my ass, as she likes to say, but it’s not her reaction I’m worried or curious about. It’s Cesar’s. Who knows what he might do if I broke his vase. There’s really only one way to find out, but I know I can’t do that to my mom. I love her, and I don’t want her having a heart attack. I’ll have to come up with some other way to needle him.
“Go to bed.” She comes over and kisses my cheek. “I’m going to make my last rounds and catch up on my shows. I’m playing the neighbor again in the morning. Going to beat her like a drum.”
Mom won’t leave the property, but the tennis court out back is her private stress reliever.
“I love you,” I tell her as she turns and heads back down the hallway, leaving me all alone. I glance up at what I think is one of the cameras in the hallway, glaring at it before I hurry to my room. I’ve done my best to look for cameras in here, but I haven’t found any. That doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
As soon as the door closes, I turn the knob and lock it. I walk over to my closet and move some things out of the way until I get to my most prized possessions. I slip the box out from where I’ve hidden it. A thrill of excitement passes through me at seeing all of my little pretties again.
I know I have to do this quickly, but somehow seeing the things I’ve stolen from him gives me the confidence to do it again. I reach out and run my fingertips over the trinkets I’ve collected. My hand always stops when it gets to the pretty necklace that has the stone of my birth month. A pang of jealousy always hits me when I get to this piece. Because this is the perfect necklace for a beautiful woman. A mistress of his? I grit my teeth.
Why does he have all this jewelry? He never seems to notice that it goes missing. Does the man have so much money that he doesn't care that his priceless collection is being whittled away? Does he just send someone off to buy another? Or maybe he thought he gave it away? Then again, Cesar doesn't seem so forgetful.
Still, I can always find holes in the things he does. I steal right from under him, even though I know it would mean death if he found out. No one crosses Cesar.
That is the one thing I’ve learned since I came to live here. I don’t know why my mom insists we stay. The day my father died, everything changed. Including her. She lives in fear of something. She won’t admit to it, and she never talks about it, but I can see it in her eyes. I don’t know if it’s of Cesar or someone else.
I grab the necklace from the box. While still in the closet, I change my clothes. I slip on a black hoodie and thick yoga pants before digging out my black sneakers. I put the necklace into my pocket. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever stolen, but it has too much control over me. I think about it far too often. I must be done with it. Too many things in my life already control me. I refuse to keep letting a necklace do the same. I’ll pawn it. Take the cash and hide it away.
I put the rest of my pretties away before leaving my closet and flipping the light off in my bedroom. This home is beautiful but old. The windows are the kind that I can easily push open. It’s not as if the doors and windows on the estate need to be locked. There are guards everywhere ensuring no one gets in and, in my case, that I don’t get out.
But I know exactly where each and every one of them are stationed. I’ve got too much time on my hands. I know where everything is around here. I look down at my watch as I crawl out of the window. I hit the alert button to call for a ride before slipping the phone and a butterfly knife into my sports bra under my hoodie.
I watch the seconds tick by until the time strikes the top of the hour. Then I jump, falling three stories to the ground. I bend one of my knees, letting it take part of the fall as my hands take the other. No pain, no gain.