Page 61 of Downfall

Roman

Idon’t know what I expected but it wasn’t that. I held my breath as she spoke of the crash but unsurprisingly she didn’t remember a thing, at least nothing about me because we all knew she was holding back, lying about some of it. Whatever they were arguing about she does remember - she just doesn’t want to admit it.

But the revelations she did make, that he was abusive, that he hit her, and that he plied her with jewellery to keep her sweet, I’m both pleased and incensed. Sure the city now knows what he is, that the great Paris Blumenfeld was a wife beater, but it wasn’t my intention for that to get out.

And I’d watched as Darius led her away when it was finally all over, I watched as her tear stained face passed me by and still she didn’t see me. Didn’t sense me.

He’s presenting her as a martyr.

He’s presenting her as a victim in all of this and I want to know why.

When his car pulls up, the dust kicks up about the track. We didn’t have to meet in person but sometimes it’s better to read a man this way, to see all of his body language. Besides I’ve got back up. I’m not stupid enough to meet with Darius in any capacity that would result in me being the underdog.

He gets out, his face hard and yet resigned and he walks slowly towards me, his shiny oxfords gaining more dirt with every step. When he stops we assess each other. He’s half an inch taller than me but, where his hard body has started to go soft with age, mine is muscle. And a lot of it. I spent years in the gym, years in the ring too, fighting, brawling, turning myself from the skinny runt I was into something of worth. Someone that others would only have to look at and know not to cross.

“Roman.” He says quietly.

“Darius.” I reply.

“I did what you asked.”

“You did.” I confirm. He got the pathologist to lie about Paris’s actual cause of death. He also ensured that no one focused on where the car was actually going to. Why they were on that road. But there’s a big question around what else he did.

He lets out a huff as if this is an inconvenience to him.

“I’m curious as to your motives.” I say

“What motives?”

“Divulging all those details about Paris. About his marriage.” I don’t say her name. I don’t want anything to betray me.

“I thought you would have appreciated that.” He says stiffly. “You clearly never liked the man.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“So what’s the issue? Now everyone knows what a shit he was. That he used to beat his wife.”

“That sounds like bullshit. You had no need to sully your family’s name with such salacious details…”

“Maybe Rose deserved it.” He cuts across me.

“Deserved what?” I snap. My anger spiking at the way he says her name. The way he thinks he has a right to.

“Justice. He put her through enough. She deserved for the world to see what was really going on.”

I tilt my head. Is that it? Is it really just a case of him wanting to make amends? It doesn’t feel like that and especially not from the way he was acting towards her. Besides Darius isn’t one to care for justice, for morals, for righting all the worlds wrongs.

“Why do you care? What is she to you?” I ask.

He narrows his eyes. “I helped orchestrate their marriage. It’s only right I do something to fix it.”

I grunt. It feels like bullshit. It certainly sounds like it. Darius clearly has a soft spot for her. I guess I can’t blame him for that, Rose Capulet has a way of burrowing into people’s psyche, of turning them into her pets.

I’ll need to watch Darius, I’ll need to ensure he doesn’t cross any lines.

Because Rose is mine.

She always has been.

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