Page 13 of Uprising

He scowls walking over to the window. The Governor’s House as the most incredible view over the Bay. The only good thing about being here is staring out, watching the waves, watching the sunsets, imagining that I’m free to actually enjoy them.

“Sofia.” He murmurs so quietly I almost don’t even hear it.

“What?” I say.

He shakes his head. Runs his hands over his face. “Forget it.” He says.

I grab his arm, wrenching him around.

“Sofia what?” I ask.

He flinches. “She’s not in a good way.”

“No shit.” I spit back. We both know Otto is treating her like his own personal punchbag. That he’s still making her pay for the supposed crime that she ‘wasn’t a virgin’ after all.

But deep down I fear it’s more than that, because he married her, less than a week after they murdered Roman, Otto forced her into matrimony and now if she dies he can inherit the entire Montague fortune.

Somehow it feels like that’s what he really wants. That all of this, all the violence, is just a short term diversion from his end goal.

“I want…” He trails off looking at Lara like he can’t trust her not to blab.

“You want what?” I say hoping he hears the venom in my voice. Like I give a shit what he wants.

He narrows his eyes, shakes his head, and walks away.

Rose

The sun is shining so brightly. On days like this it’s hard to believe summer is really over but the oppressive heat is gone and you can see from the way the sun is lower that the days are getting shorter.

We’ve been out in the rose garden for most of the afternoon. Darius has been holding a political rally, gearing himself up for the elections.

I swear my face hurts from all the fake smiling I’ve been doing. And my body aches from how much I’ve had to hold myself back from snapping, from dropping my mask, and revealing what’s really going on.

Within touching distance of me is the Chief of Police, the Head of the Militia, and every other arsehole Darius has said he will use to hunt me down if I do anything to wreck his little plan.

And Darius is the midst of everyone, right in the centre, schmoozing and working the crowd as they surround him like some sort of hero.

I take another sip of my drink. Some days I need the alcohol just to take the edge off everything but it’s a fine balance between calming my nerves and ending up drunk, which is something I cannot risk under any circumstances.

A few wives chat away to me. We all make polite small talk. Most of them are twice my age and I can tell from the looks they give me when they think I don’t notice that they can’t quite figure out what it is between me and Darius. I guess they’re on the side of me being a gold digger. That I’m so enamoured of the Blumenfeld name that I’d marry any one of them available and happily spread my legs for all the diamonds I get in return.

The thought turns my stomach and I make an excuse of needing the bathroom.

I can’t stand it.

I can’t stand what everyone is saying about me. What everyone is thinking of me.

I walk back into the house.

The wind picks up and if you look carefully you can see the leaves starting to turn, you can see the way autumn is truly setting in.

I imagined spending Christmas with Roman, spending our first Christmas together as a family. I wanted the three of us to go buy a tree, to decorate it together.

I wanted me and Roman to go ice skating. In public. As a real couple. I wanted to buy Lara so many presents. To really spoil her.

I wanted so much that I will never have now.

He’s dead. I’ll never hear his laughter again. Never see him smile.

---