My enemy's daughter

HE N R I C O

The noise of loose springs reverberates down the long, dark corridor, some roars are louder than others and come from every cell, but that's what happens when you take lunatics who can't find a foothold

to sleep and put them in the same place. Lying on top of the bunk bed

I share with one of my companions, I look at the torn photo of the

old newspaper that Guilhermino managed to bring me, the paper is

worn, and the color is fading as the days go by, however, I can still

see the smile of each member of the Leal family and the victorious

expression on their faces. Augusto obeyed and won the election in New

York, becoming governor of the state with a great advantage over his

competitors.

Something in me broke when my best friend brought me the wedding news, I didn't

believe it until he brought me this photo as proof, I know that deep

down he still hopes that I will move on and forget them all, erase

the idea of revenge and move on in my life as if nothing had

happened, but this is just another reinforcement for me to follow my

plan. You can't ask a man who's been tried and convicted for a crime

he didn't commit, someone who's had his life stolen and his heart

broken, to let it all go and move on. The woman I loved was married

to another man, acting like I didn't exist anymore, but all that was

about to change, I'm sure your father hasn't told you the whole

truth, and I'm coming back to take back everything that's mine for

right.

"Only now I don't feel anything, baby." I whisper, running my fingers

over her image, unable to take my eyes off her.

"No shame or pity. You're going to have to deal with me, and there's no

escape." I whisper, careful not to draw the attention of my

companions.

After a few more minutes of looking at the photo, I put it under my pillow

and try to sleep, closing my eyes and refusing to open them before a

new day, even with all the screams and various noises during the

night.

Some companions are running away today, and I had the option of joining

them and fleeing this place ahead of time, but Guilhermino put some

reason in me and I gave up. I can't go back and beat Augustus if he's

a fugitive, no, I need to have my freedom within the law, so I can

move the right pieces. Just a few more months. I repeat until I fall

asleep, then when I wake up the next day to a guard splashing me with

water and snarling a few curse words, I just smile and say I don't

know where my saddle mates have gone.

When night comes again, I dream of the girl with the green eyes and I

imagine doing the most wicked things to her in front of her lying

father and fake sister, until these dreams become my obsession and I

start dreaming during the day too, creating the most hateful scenes

and dialogue, wondering if the sweet youngest Leal has any experience

with men and would be capable of giving me pleasure, but also loving

the idea of being first.

She will hate me in the end, but she will also learn about herself and

doubt her feelings. I'll break you to the core, take your body for

me, and keep your soul for my delight. Anyway, my plan starts and

ends with her. I will be your end.

"Hey." Antonio, a guard I don't completely hate and keep on the payroll,

calls out to me, pushing a printout of some digital newspaper he

likes to post about the Leal family. "You owe me." he says

and walks away, yelling at some inmates who have started an argument

over who can lift the most weight.

I shove the piece of paper inside my pants and go back to the cell,

after making sure I'm alone, I remove the paper from inside my pants

and read the small text above the photo. I ignore the editor's

fawning over Augusto and focus on the names mentioned, my eyes

dropping to memorize the features of my ex-wife's new husband.

The bitter taste of betrayal dulls my taste buds, causing an overwhelming

need to play, but I don't. I hold the gaze of the man in the photo

and then follow his hand, one arm around his wife's waist and the

other around his little sister. It seems like a perfect family, but I

have a strange feeling about the asshole, especially since his hand

is touching what's mine.

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes until I push the rage out of the

dark room I keep in my head and get my actions back under control.

Just a few more months.

Days pass and I wallow in self-pity, seeking refuge in revenge, fights,

and exercise.

I finish my set of weightlifting with the equipment improvised by some

inmates and rest on the cement bench, closing my eyes to take a deep

breath and relax my muscles. Someone taps my shoulder.

"Hey pretty boy" I would recognize that voice anywhere by now, it was

the first lesson I'd learned since getting here, and even though we

never exchanged a word with him, I knew it was worrying to have his

attention on me right now. Shadow isn't known for making friends, no,

last time I was warned, I was told not to be alone with him in the

dark if I didn't want to become his little doll.

"What do you want!?" I growl, hoping the idiot realizes he's a

nuisance. He looks at me with a crooked smile that tells me he's

unimpressed. I roll my eyes.

The guy is six feet tall and covered in tattoos, including a skull on his throat, so of course I didn't intimidate him.

"I just thought you needed to relax." he says with a shrug, and I

eye him suspiciously.

"I don't like guys." I speak and her smile dies.

"And you're too skinny for my liking, idiot. I'm here to offer you a

cigarette, not the gun I keep between my legs." I almost smile

at his shitty comparison, then remember I'm in jail and this guy is a

murderer.

"And you are offering me this?" He snorts.

"I'm a guy like a guy, but that doesn't mean I'm hitting on you,

handsome." I pinch my eyebrows together.

"Okay, sorry if I was judgmental."

"Yes, you were." he cuts me off, and I look down at the cigarette

between his fingers.

"What does this offer mean, then?"

"It's just cigarettes, man. That shit kills, so you don't need to get all

emotional." He holds out the cigarette again, and I take it,

letting him light it for me. "This is shit, maybe death is a

better way out." he says, blowing smoke upwards, his gauze lost

in a group of faces a few feet away from us. I shrug, holding the

smoke in longer than I should.

"What stops you, then?"

"My daughter" reveals and surprise washes over me, but considering

he doesn't seem willing to say anything more about it, I swallow my

curiosity.

"And you?" he asks after a while.

"Revenge."

Amélia Leal

I was once taught that lying is ugly and dishonest, but I was never warned about the consequences. Well, I discovered that in addition to being painful, they can be irreversible. At ten, when all I wanted

was to be accepted, I lied to help a classmate, Justine, fake a stomachache and get out of her calculus exam.

The same day the girl sent me a "Thank you" message full of admiration, I didn't know at the time if I should feel praised, but I liked having her gratitude. A week later, the principal suspended me. It took some time for me to realize that the lie surrounded me, constituted everything I knew and, consequently, was part of who I

was too.

There was no escape, I kept lying not because I liked it, but because I was

too good to ignore.

I've learned that no matter how screwed up you are inside, if a beautiful smile is forming on your lips, in the end no one wants to see tears or hear about your anguish.

My smiles were rehearsed, dictated, as were my clothes and my life. I lied to please and make happy the woman who brought me into the world, because she did the same for me and no matter how much I said otherwise, I knew it was a lie. Being the wife of the governor of New York wasn't enough, it never was. I just had to pretend a little longer, I could even put up with the romantic arrangements she kept making me, like the talkative asshole Richard, third son of a snobbish and corrupt senator who hasn't stopped talking since we were introduced.

"How about we go somewhere more private?" I squint at the boy, forcing a smile as I search for something in his appearance that makes up for his lack of common sense.

"I'm comfortable here, thank you." I slurp the strong-tasting yellow liquid through an aluminum straw, wishing I'd added a little more vodka. The boy keeps a malicious and suggestive gleam in his eyes, I stare for a few seconds at his thin and convinced face, allowing me to lower my eyes all over his body, as he has been doing to me since he approached me.

Broad, athletic shoulders, brown hair that looks like it's been finger-combed and not brushed. Thin, rosy lips, always ready to utter the cruelest words and pour out a lot of bullshit. Arrogant posture. Corrupted brain.

" Are you sure? I know a place where we can talk more peacefully."

" I don't think it would be convenient, people would speculate about our sudden departure in a few seconds, we are public people." I try to sound convincing, pretending that's the only reason I'm not going anywhere more intimate with him.

He laughs, catching the attention of a small group of people a few steps away from us. Gasp. Impatience taking over me, and I decide it's time to ruin any expectations the asshole had created.

"Listen, I don't think we have any unusual interests, and honestly... I'm not interested in relationships."

Even more with you.

The expression of surprise is quickly replaced by annoyance, I see anger brush the almond color of her irises and make them brighter. Apparently I've poked his weak spot and he won't let me go unpunished. A lump forms in my throat as I imagine the kind of trouble he can cause me at this stupid cocktail party, considering his explosive and rebellious track record. I shudder to imagine the consequences of this when I get home. Fuck it!

"Come on, kitty. Don't be difficult, let's enjoy it. Nobody will know." He blinks suggestively, putting his hands on my waist, pressing my skin with his long fingers, and even though the fabric prevents direct contact, I'm repulsed.

" I said no!" I push his body away, ignoring etiquette as I raise my voice. His hands touch me again, and I'm ready to mark his face with my hand when a familiar voice catches my eye.

"Is there a problem here?" Peter asks closer and makes Richard look up, who, when analyzing the large and imposing figure of my brother-in-law, removes his hands from me. Moron.

" I was already on my way out, there's nothing here for me. " The asshole speaks as he looks at me one last time, bringing a feeling of exposure to my body, which is covered by a thin"shouldered gray silk dress that covers me two fingers above the knee.

"Not really." Peter says, determined to intimidate the boy before he turns his back and leaves us. Richard disguises his insecurity with a mocking laugh, but doesn't hold his posture for long and leaves.

"Shit. I mumble under my breath, just so the man next to me hears. He laughs and stares at me with white, sample"lined teeth." What?

"This self of yours is so much better. " I declare, and I end up blushing.

"You speak as if there is more than one of me. There is, for everyone, you are the demure Amélia Leal, the governor's youngest daughter, but when she's with me, it's just Amélia.

"Maybe you're a bad influence." Earring.

"Oh, he certainly is." The high"pitched and familiar voice makes Peter stop the glass of drink he holds in the middle of the way, in a few seconds I'm forgotten, and he turns to face her.

"Aurora". He whispers, in complete devotion, making my stomach churn at the clear love contained in his tone.

"I was looking for you." my sister says, her irritating voice masked by the ambient noise. "I thought you wouldn't arrive until tomorrow morning." She pouts, twirling her painted nails around his tie.

"Well, I missed home and the people I love. I decided to surprise my wife."

I follow the conversation in silence.

I wonder if deep down Peter knows what kind of person she is, love can be blind, but is it capable of covering up someone's character?

"Well, I hope you didn't leave anything unfinished there." She says, using a sly tone.

" All settled, I came to stay for good and make up for lost time."

Peter continues talking, totally ignoring my presence at his side, I catch my sister staring at my right hand that holds the baptized fruit drink. His gaze is that of someone who judges, his interpretation molding to the resentment he has for me.

" I need to go to the bathroom. " I say, taking the first steps before I even finish the sentence.

I head in the right direction until I'm sure neither of them are looking at me, then I detour and enter a hallway, this building is one of Dad's newest acquisitions, another trophy for his career and I don't think Aurora and I differ. Of it to him. Empty rooms are the only things to explore in this place yet, so surprise invades me when I hear voices coming from the end of the hallway, a half-open door lets out a small sliver of light and curiosity takes me closer, high and male voices, looks like an argument between partners or something and I don't think there's anything interesting going on there, so a familiar voice speaks, and I freeze in place.

"How did he get the penalty lessened?" Dad speaks.

" Any good lawyer could reverse his situation, the arrest was made hastily and some points were run over, there were many paragraphs that could be revoked." Who is he talking about?

"It doesn't matter, after all this time we won't have to worry about him, I bet the boy learned not to touch a wasp nest." Dad concludes, getting chuckles in agreement.

Henrico Zattani

I take a deep breath, finally inhaling the pure air of freedom. I look with a smile at the image of Guilhermino leaning on his blue truck across the street, he's here just as he promised. Not only that, but I look back and take one last look at the penitentiary that was my home for three and a half years. I walk towards my friend, with moderate and cautious steps, I watch his eyes narrow in my direction, more precisely on the cigarette between my lips and I can't help but smile right after blowing the smoke in the air.

This was a habit I acquired in jail, I experienced it one night, where even my revenge plans couldn't bring me peace and voilà.

Yea!

I raise my hands in surrender as he arches his left eyebrow in disapproval, taking one last photo of my Dunhill, a gift from my cellmate in commemoration of my departure. Knowing I can't smoke in his car, I put out the cigarette and toss it into the only trash can nearby. Shit.

"Since when do you smoke?" I shrug.

"A few months ago." I replied succinctly, ending the conversation. I don't want to talk about my new addiction, and he understands that.

We got into his truck in silence, remaining that way until music started playing on the radio.

It's weird being back in the real world, I mean sure all the shit that happened to me inside that place was real, but I just had walls to look at all the time, there were no expectations or good times, every day was just okay. Lower the car window glass, allowing a better view of what is happening outside.

I close my eyes for a moment and let myself go, the low car music and the gentle breeze coming through the open window are enough to make the anger come back. He even took it from me all these months. My jaw

clenches and I try to find calm in the song's chorus. I can feel the tension coming from Guilhermino, but I keep my eyes closed a little longer. I understand your concern about my next actions and I don't blame you, I've been telling you everything I planned for Leal's gang and I scared him, I changed with prison, and I'm different from the boy he knew as a brat. So I was smoking. Nicotine keeps me calm when nervousness and anxiety arise, it works as an outlet.

"Mada is making a nice roast beef in your honor." he says, patting my seat to get my attention.

I smile sincerely at the mention of the woman's name.

"Great."

He snorts.

"Excellent? Is that all you have to say? Where is your excitement for eating real food?"

A crooked smile appears on my lips.

The food wasn't that bad, in fact, it was the least of the problems one could have in that place.

" I'm not that hungry." I say, justifying my reaction.

He looks at me, frowning, and I stare at him, preempting and speaking before starting his speech.

"Thought I'd ride a little." I speak. Feeling him relax in his seat.

"I'm sorry you lost Hercules, but we have new horses, you can choose any one of them.

I nod, turning to face the window, not wanting to broach the subject with the only person who's been by my side and turned out to be an asshole. Hercules died some time after my arrest, we were extremely close and he was very sorry for my distance, the veterinarian thought that the reason for his death was sadness. My horse was a gift from my father when I turned eighteen, he was one of my memories of my old man and his death will also be paid for.

The farm entrance starts to appear right ahead, my heart starts to flutter when I see all the employees at the entrance. I almost lost the only inheritance my parents left me in the midst of all this mess, I am very grateful to each man and woman who worked so hard and didn't give up on me when everything seemed to fall apart.

"Before we get out of the car, I want to ask you if you still have those

thoughts in your head." The eye, knowing exactly what you're

talking about. Yes.

"That man is dangerous, you ended up in jail last time. I hear your words

even though I already know."

"I know, but I'm not afraid. I can assure you that I'm not the same as before." Now it's your turn to look at me.

"I understand. I'm here for whatever you need." Speech.

"I won't involve you in this." I declare.

"Henrico, your father took me in when I was still a tomboy and needed help, for me, you are like a younger brother, and I don't abandon the family." I close my eyes and let out a long breath. I'm not going to try to

convince you otherwise right now.

"I have something to show you." He holds out his phone, open to a gossip page, and I stare at him in confusion.

"Just read." Speech.

"Amélia Leal will throw a party to celebrate her 18th birthday at a super trendy local disco, the young woman will be attended by her parents, older sister and closest friends. Rumors say it will be something

refined and discreet like her, but everyone will be masked, and the party will last all night."

I read the entire article twice. A picture of the girl is printed at the top of the news bulletin, and I blink a few times as I look at the image. Memories of the first time I saw her invade my memory.

"I come down from the room asking myself for resilience and control, I try to forget for a moment the last information I received about my wife's family and I play a good host, but what I see when I step off the last step takes me off my axis.

"Who are you? I watch the small figure stroking the feathers of a chicken in the middle of my room." I tilt my head, trying to clear my field of vision and understand what's going on. "Cat got your tongue, girl? You can't break into my house, steal my chickens and then ignore me."

The girl whispers, her long brown hair covering half of her face, but I can still hear her shoulders moving as if she's saying something.

"What did you say? Speak, damn it!" I say impatiently.

"I said my name is Amelia and I didn't trespass on your property or plan to kidnap your precious chicken, idiot."

"Do you know the exact date and address of this club?" I ask.

"It's happening tomorrow night at Vazz nightclub, you know what it is.

Yes, I knew. It was one of my favorite clubs when I was younger.

"I'm going to need a mask." to speak.

"No, we're going to need two masks. He surprises me by saying, but I decide not to question it, it'll be nice to have someone I know to manage my anger.