14
Vanessa
I finished my painting and left it on display in the hall to be judged by the other students. I didn’t consider myself a great artist, but I was good enough to convey a story. I sketched out the details of the faces before I added the paint and brought it to life. The image I decided to depict now was my parents working together in the vineyards. Husband and wife, they were a team as they created a living directly from the soil. It depicted Italian culture, Italian pastimes.
Maybe it was stupid to spend money to go to university to pursue a hobby. Becoming a professional painter seemed very unlikely, and if I didn’t believe in myself, why should anyone believe in me? But I didn’t have any other interests. I didn’t want to work in a restaurant, and I didn’t want to go into business like everyone else in my family.
I craved a simple life.
More than likely, I would take over Barsetti Vineyards. But right now, my family didn’t need me. Might as well spend my time exploring my other talents. Besides, I loved living in Milan. It was nothing like Tuscany, but it was a great experience. This time away from my family taught me to appreciate them more.
I left campus and walked to my apartment in the center of town. I lived alone because my parents didn’t want me to have roommates. My father paid my rent and gave me an allowance to spend every month. When I first came to Milan, taking his money didn’t seem strange. But now that I’d been living there for a year, I’d started to hate it.
I didn’t want his money anymore.
That motivated me to make my paintings good enough to sell. If I could make enough money just to cover my expenses, I wouldn’t have to rely on my father’s support.
And I knew that would make him proud.
I walked up to my door and shoved the key inside. But the lock was already undone.
Did I forget to lock it?
It wouldn’t be my first time, so I stepped inside.
My apartment wasn’t big, just a one-bedroom with a small living room and a tiny kitchen. As a single person, it was all I needed.
The second I stepped inside, I noticed something was wrong.
All the lights were off. I always left a few on so I wouldn’t have to step into the darkness once the sun was gone. My eyes fell to the large shape sitting on the couch, the outline of a man’s shadow. I didn’t need to see his face to know he was hard like steel. And I didn’t need to ask why he was there to figure it out. “You know, breaking and entering is against the law.” As a Barsetti, I refused to cower in fear. I’d hold my head high, regardless of the way my life would be taken from me. I was a very proud woman. “And you picked the wrong apartment to rob. I’m a poor-ass college student. I don’t have shit to take.” I flicked on the light beside me, illuminating the living room and kitchen.
The man sitting on the couch was big and ugly. He wore a cold sneer, and his eyes were lit with amusement. His hands were empty of a gun or a knife, but that didn’t downplay his dangerous vibe. Dressed in all black with a scar along his eye, he was the stuff of nightmares. Anyone else would scream their head off.
I didn’t, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t scared.
He released a cold chuckle. “You’re either very stupid or very brave.”
I set my bag on the floor, making it thud against the tile from the weight of the books. “You have to be a little stupid in order to be brave. And you’re forgetting proud. You came in here thinking you could catch me off-balance. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.” I stepped into the kitchen and turned my back to him. I opened the fridge, pretending everything was casual. Anyone else would grab a kitchen knife, but I seemed to be looking for a snack.
Little did he know, I kept my biggest steak knife right on the top shelf.
He rose from the couch and sauntered toward me, an amused expression still on his face. “You really are your father’s daughter—arrogant.”
“You want something to eat or what?” I grabbed the knife and kept it hidden behind the door.
“There’s no one out here looking after you, little girl. So you can drop the tough girl—”
I shut the door and stabbed the knife right into his chest.
His reflexes were astonishingly fast, so he pivoted his body just in time to protect his heart. The blade went into his shoulder, halfway in. He groaned then snatched my wrist and flung me hard onto the ground. “Dumb fucking bitch.” He yanked the knife out and tossed it on the counter, the metal clattering with the sound and spilling blood everywhere.