Page 104 of Rapunzel Is Losing It

Despite the routine of it all, Paris hung over us like a countdown.

There was only one way this would end and it was with a bullet between Petya’s eyes. Luka would take over for his father. It was as barbaric as it was easy. Kill the boss, become the boss. Nobody would even bat an eyelash as long as it was Luka himselfwho killed his father. The business would stay in the family. There would only be a skeleton crew with us in Paris, so finding an unguarded moment wouldn’t be hard either.

Cordelia knew as much, but she insisted that she couldn’t just sit back and wait for Paris.

She scheduled the pond construction, and told Del to stay with Beck to avoid the noise. Del didn’t even bat an eyelash before packing some bags.

One morning, before I headed off to training, she set up social accounts. The only picture she posted was a group shot from her birthday party. As soon as her friends reposted it, people followed her in droves. It helped that the campaign - and especially the leaked footage - had gotten so much attention, because everyone was desperate for another glimpse at the elusive Cordelia Montgomery.

At some point, training ran long and I was late for dinneronce, and she posted a video telling everyone. It was ten cute seconds of her pouting into the camera, but Luka’s phone blew up with notifications. He managed some official accounts in my name, and Cordelia’s followers flooded them all.

Petya played it old school. He posted a van outside Cordelia’s house, clearly visible from her office. A quiet threat.

Cordelia started posting a “Fitzi’s view from his window seat” photo every morning. A cat picture to everyone else - a public‘everyone can see you’to my uncle.

Organized crime only worked as long as it was conducted behind closed doors - and Petya hadn’t considered that the girl who had kept her whole life a secret was willing to turn him into a public spectacle. She was a goddamn force and she didn’t even realize just how much power she was wielding.

Meanwhile, she tasked Irina with overseeing the construction in the backyard. It kept her busy enough while shewas hiding, and ensured that no worker went unvetted or even thought about entering the house.

As much as Cordelia amazed me, her sleep schedule worried me. It had started with waking up screaming every single day. Then she started tossing and turning all night. With one week left before I’d leave for Paris, she was avoiding sleep altogether.

I couldn’t stop her memories from haunting her, but I wasn’t letting her shoulder this alone. So I wasn’t getting any sleep either. We played chess, watched TV, swam in the pool. I even posed for a portrait for three fucking hours. Anything and everything to keep her mind busy.

“I think I might try baking a cake later,” Cordelia mused while she stashed her empty plate in the dishwasher. Without me here all the time, she was picking up so many small tasks she’d probably never even had to think about in the last 30 years.

“I actually have plans for us tonight.”

“Board games?”

“No.”

“Friendship bracelets?”

“No, and I wouldn’t accept afriendshipbracelet from you anyway.”

“Matching tattoos?”

I opened my mouth to say no, but the idea of having a permanent mark on her body wasn’t unappealing.

“A teacup and a teapot,” she quipped.

“Hmm?”

“I think those would be cute partner tattoos. In purple or pink. That way it stands out between all your others.”

“We’re not getting tattoos tonight.”

“Oh. Okay.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Do I have to keep guessing?”

“I’m taking you on a date.”

“I don’t think-”

“We’re staying here, but it’s a real date.”

“A date?”

“Like a normal couple.”

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