I take a spin in front of the full body mirror, watching as the fabric of my dress clings to my curves, and I sigh heavily.
Usually I enjoy dolling myself up, but there’s nothing fun about getting ready for a funeral. Specially when it’s the funeral of someone who was very dear to you. I can’t even begin to imagine how life will be now that Edward’s gone. He’s been with the family ever since I was a small girl, and I thought that he’d always be around ... of course, life always has to throw you a curveball, and now the house seems more empty than ever.
It might sound a bit stupid to say it, but in a sense, I considered him part of the family. More than an adviser, he was like that uncle who always knew exactly what to say when trouble reared its head. And, oh, how I pestered him with my teenage girl problems. More than wise, Edward was definitely a very patient man. Even more patient than my own parents.
Not that I can blame my parents; I’ve always had a reputation as a party girl, and you know how that plays out with powerful families, don’t you? Bad press, tabloids, and whatnot … my parents hated it, especially my mother. Only Edward seemed to be kind toward me, even when I was at my worst.
But now he’s gone, and at a time our family needs him the most.
Ever since my brother started working under my father’s tutelage, being groomed as a possible heir to the Donovan empire, things have started to become hard. Now, I know… I’m a privileged child. I shouldn’t be telling you about how life’s hard when I live in one of the most expensive mansions in the world and have all the luxuries that come with it.
But having money doesn’t mean that you’re happy, you know? Sure, it doesn’t hurt, but it’s not a guarantee of anything … Sometimes I even think that I’d be much happier if our family was just a normal one, no business empire or legacy to worry about.
There’s a silver lining to all of this, though.
I know, I know… It’s a bad thing to say! Well, but there really is a silver lining… Shortly after Edward passed away, we received notice from the Vatican that they’d be sending a replacement: Edward’s own son, Connor. And, there’s no other way to put it, I’m a little excited with the prospect of seeing Connor again.
He used to visit Edward in the summers, staying at the guesthouse with him, and those were always fun times. I mean, Connor was handsome and charming… He was just a few years older than me, but he dazzled me all the same. Nothing ever happened between the two of us, though, and I suspect that was because he saw me as both too young and as someone under his father’s responsibility.
I was a bit surprised when I got word that he had become part of the Order of the Temple, though. Just like me, he had a reputation as a party beast, and every time he came here he left broken hearts in a thousand-mile radius. But, somewhere down the road, he changed. And now he’s coming back as our advisor. It’s almost funny to think about him in such terms.
Yeah, okay, I’ll admit, I always had a bit of a crush on him. But it’s not like that’s a surprising revelation or anything. I mean, every single one of my friends (or pretty much every girl I know) had a crush on Connor. So, yeah, forgive me if I’m a bit anxious with the prospect of seeing him again.
"Clarise?" I hear my mother say from the other side of the door, and then she raps her knuckles against it. Before I can say a thing, I see the handle turning and, one second later, she steps inside my bedroom suite. Although the dress I’m wearing is as fit for a funeral as it is for a boardroom, my mom’s definitely dressed for a funeral. She’s even rocking one of these dreadful veils. Still, she’s a lucky one; despite being in her mid-fifties, she remains as beautiful as when she was twenty. It’s kind of a cliché, but it’s true—some women don’t age, they mature.
"I’m almost ready, mom," I tell her offhandedly, turning my attention back to the mirror and running one hand through my hair.
"Maybe you’re too ready?"
I turn on my heels to meet her gaze, and her judging smile tells me everything I need to know. It’s pretty obvious actually; while she’s wearing a modest black dress, something that’d be appropriate anywhere in the world, the one I’m wearing pushes the envelope a little bit because of my cleavage.
"What?" I ask her, pursing my lips and sighing. "I’m not that bad."
"Ah, God, Clarise," she sighs heavily, her gaze going straight to my cleavage, and then she shakes her head disapprovingly. "You’re lucky we’re already running behind schedule, or else I’d make you change that dress."
"Yeah, thanks for the compliment, mom," I shoot back at her. In a sense, I know she’s right; it isn’t exactly in good taste to show this much cleavage, but I let my unconscious mind pick the dress for me. Just like I told you, Connor’s coming back to town and, deep down, I want to show him that I’m not a little girl anymore.
Does that make me bad? I think it does. But I’m not afraid of being a bad woman. This world needs more bad women, don’t you think?
And so, as I walk side-by-side with my mom, making our way down the main stairway of the mansion, I can’t help but let a slight confident grin creep up on my lips.
"There you are," my father tells me impatiently, running his fingers down his tie and then waving at the limo waiting for us. "Let’s go, we’re already late."
"Thanks to Clarise," my brother mutters, looking at me sideways with an annoying grin. He doesn’t waste an opportunity to jab at me, and why would today be any different?
But I won’t let him rattle me. No, today’s a day of mourning…
And it’s also the day I see Connor again.
3
Connor
I’ve never been a fan of huge churches, particularly one as big as the one in which I’m sitting right now. According to a brochure I read before arriving, this particular congregation is big enough for more than fifty thousand souls. Can you ev
en imagine a church this big? And, more than being just big, it’s also a luxurious one. It must've cost a fortune to erect these walls, and that’s probably why the Donovans were one of the main donors when it came to building.
It’s kinda fitting, in a way; a family as powerful as the Donovans always swing for the fences when it comes to occasions like this. I don’t think my father would’ve enjoyed a service this big, though, and if it were up to me, I’d have chosen somewhere more intimate. But I didn’t have a choice; I was in Rome when my father passed away, and the Donovans kindly arranged everything.