Vera Bianchi

Chapter 2: Runaway

"How…Where…. I-…"

"You are smart Vera; I know you can figure it out. Whatever you do you have to get far enough away to be outside of your Papa's influence!"

I nodded, and I was stunned. Could it be so? Could my foundation of unconditional love and support be a mirage? This was my core, what I based my beliefs and decisions on. I was contemplative as I continued getting ready for the party. I couldn't believe she was right! But now what do I do?! I paid attention that night; eyes watched me like vultures on their prey. Of course, my dress didn't help with that.

I eavesdropped on other conversations when I was usually making my own. Baye bragged about the little boy we fed, and how heroically philanthropic she was. Papa talked business in code and also bragged about how amazingly deep his daughters were for feeding a starving boy. This would have been normal for a parent to say, and it eased my fears. I began speaking to myself how foolish I was to think MY PAPA could be anything but honorable with his love for me. How stupid could I be to believe anything else?

He didn't know I was there standing close to him when he said, "Whoever gets her will be one lucky bastard! If you know what I mean." Then gave some kind of knowing look. I flushed and paled at the same time. The room was spinning, and I pretended I wasn't listening- after all I could have been far enough not to hear him. I tried to ignore the eight eyes now glued to me in a vulture-like manner like everyone else at the party. I was nauseated and panged with sadness that pierced my soul. In a moment everything I had built was crumbling. The walls appeared to be closing in on me. I wished it was happening to someone else. But the guilt of that feeling made me relent the thought, ‘no, no, I can handle this… I can't wish this even on my worst enemy'.

 I felt dirty, and my insides were like a tumultuous sea that swirled with numbness and desolation. I wasn't loved the way I always thought I was; Papa had plans for my virtue- that much was clear. I faked being ill to Stefan –I looked sick too- so I could leave the party. Stefan seemed very concerned and took me to my room.

For the next month, I sorted through my feelings and reality. I kept my eyes open for the new theory to be confirmed; time and again I saw and felt the truth of it. I was finally ready to run, but I had to be smart! I had to run in such a way that didn't provoke alarm, or else I'd never be able to get out. But how could I leave Baye?! She'd be all alone to fend for herself. I had to try to convince her to come with me! I had begun hinting at my feeling adventurous and how I was going to go away for some time. Preparing for the gala was the perfect opportunity to speak with Baye. We were in her bathroom which was larger than most peoples' homes. We were doing our hair as she was gossiping about who all would be there, and judged each of them harshly for their smallest imperfections.

"Baye?" I interrupted.

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to a foreign school this next year, and I'd love it if you would come with me."

"Are you crazy Ver? Why would you want to give this up, even just for a year?" She asked while wiggling her mascara wand on her long eyelashes.

I wasn't sure if I could trust her not to give up my real intentions to Papa. I gave her a nonchalant answer shrugging my shoulders. "I want a break from all this hustle and bustle. Plus I think Mr. Petrov is getting a little too interested."

"Ha! Ver, relax! I mean what's the worst that can happen? You two have s*x? Oh…" She pulled a face like she was mock dying. "Ha-ha, it's no big deal."

"Baye! Have you…. Made love to any of Papa's business partners?!" I had to confirm everything Anna had told me.

"Oh, sure! How else do you think the Meriton merger went off without a hitch?"

"Baye! Don't you think that's wrong?!"

"No, he was all over me." She celebrated, "I have him wrapped around my little pinky finger! I love it."

I was perplexed and disgusted! But then a wave of guilt hit me like a dump truck; I felt like it was my fault for not getting to her sooner. She had been so primed to be this way, how could I have not seen this sooner?! I should be able to save her! But her choices were her own; I knew that. So what now? Leave her to protect myself? Would that expose her to more questionable business closings?

 She broke my train of thought, "So what, are you trying to tell me you're a virgin?" She asked indignantly.

"Well, no. But I agree with Charlie Chaplin who said ‘your naked body should only belong to those who fall in love with your naked soul.' I've only made love to those who have met that criterion."

"Whooo, Stefan?" She dragged out Stefan's name teasingly. "Hey I don't blame you, the man is like freaking 6'5" and built like a freaking ox! Plus mmhmm deliciously handsome!"

I was so embarrassed! My cheeks were so red they were practically purple. "Oh, Baye!"

She laughed, while we continued readying. She continued to go on and on about who was coming to the gala. I slipped into my white dress which had a stark contrast to my olive skin tone. My dress was all lace and form-fitting to my 5'7" figure that was often compared to Candice Swanepoel's. My dress was sleeveless and had a white see-through mesh for its backing. I finished my makeup relining my eye's which were a golden-green color. I took on many features from my French mother; I had large eyes, an oval face shape, a feminine nose, high cheekbones, and large full lips. From my Italian Papa, I inherited my olive skin tone, long eyelashes, and my brunette hair. I had my hair down with curls that framed my feminine face.

Baye and I always arrived late to the parties properly descending from the staircase with our bodyguards behind us. This set the precedence of prominence, which of course Baye loved. The night began with the dance, and I saw Mr. Petrov making his way to me which made my stomach drop. I was saved by a man around my age named Peter; Peter was a different individual. He and his small family were always a mystery to me.

"May I have this dance?" he bowed.

"It would be an honor." I dipped my head smiling.

We stepped out on the floor, and he began leading our waltz. Peter and his family all looked alike. They were pale and perfect… Eerily perfect. They all had Green eyes and darkish under eyes. I couldn't believe it was their real eye color! Peter was very cold to the touch, and it always sent chills up my spine and goosebumps down my arms. He always laughed at that. Though their beauty was indescribable, I didn't like them. They all acted above everyone else, why Peter always asked me to dance at these events was beyond me. He clearly didn't want me. They were like everyone else here in a way, too high to be bothered…ugh, pretentious people. But they differed because they acted like they were the elite of the elitists. Like death, itself couldn't touch them.

I always started talking small with him, mostly just shooting the breeze. He usually loved it when I tried talking to him, but acted above it. I hated that I couldn't stop too, there was something conquerable there, and I wanted him to c***k and tell me what was going on in that big fat head of his. I tried all the topics I could think of: literature, politics, philosophy, gossip, world events, local events, I even stooped to the weather! I finally sighed in defeat.

"Peter, what are you thinking about? What goes on in that little brain of yours?"

He laughed heartily and said, "I don't think you want to know, Vera." He then gave me a mischievous look that was extremely attractive. Peter was a flirt with everyone, but you knew everything he said was sarcastic and demeaning. I hated that the challenge made me more attracted to him because I loathe that personality type.

"Let's say you give me a straight answer for once, yes?" I said firmly. He looked at me amused and curious. I continued; "Why do you ask me to dance all the time when you won't even talk to me?" He loved my question.

"Maybe I love you, Vera." He said half whispering, staring intently into my eyes and pulling me close with the arm around my waist till there wasn't a single centimeter separating our bodies. Then he winked playfully and sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes, "Ugh, please! I said straight." I pushed him gently, so the space between us was enough to start dancing again.

"Perhaps you entertain me. And I love how Petrov never stops staring at us, and for that matter neither does Stefan, nor any other man in this room. The others are just more discrete about it."

"So it's a game to you then is it?" I asked as I tried to hide the fear when he mentioned Petrov.

"Isn't that what life is all about, having fun? Especially if you can make the fun of bothering other people."

"I suppose to you, it is. See I have a theory that happiness is what life's all about, and to you, playing people and their emotions is what makes you happy. Even though you know it's psychopathic, you indulge yourself anyway." I said this entirely coolly, and I even matched his sarcasm.

He loved it and laughed so hard it drew attention to us. The dance ended and he kissed my hand locking eyes with mine, he then looked up at Petrov and snickered. I walked away amused as well; it was hard not to be drawn to him. He was so graceful when he moved.

To my luck the rest of the night was fun, I'm an extrovert to the extreme. Petrov didn't make any more attempts to be near me. I even made time during the ballet show to create a scheme that would convince Papa to let me go to a foreign school.

That night as I washed my face and showered I made up the best plan to get what I needed. I was excited, and I wanted to execute the idea right away. I called it Plan R.A.F.F. which stood for run away for freedom; I knew I was being a little childish in my imaginations.

I didn't want to sleep that night, but sleep quickly came because I always woke up at 5:00 am for my daily workout, shower, and get-ready routine.

After I was ready for the day, I walked to breakfast eagerly. Stefan was pleasantly surprised by my buoyant behavior; I had been so down lately.

"What has you so happy?" He asked while grinning.

"I have a favor to ask Papa that I'm really excited about!"

"What is it?"

"Shh, it's a secret!" I said as I touched his arm lightly, this didn't go unnoticed. He blushed a little and moved closer to me. I pretended not to notice and hopped, skipped, and jumped to the dining hall. Papa was there, as usual, reading the morning paper.

"Papa?"

"Vera! What brings you to breakfast at this hour?" He smiled delightfully as though I was his favorite person in the world.

I was so scared because I knew this conversation could mean the beginning of a new future for myself. I exhaled loudly, I tried to seem confident, but I was a lousy liar. He looked at me critically all of a sudden.

"Vera, darling, you know you can ask anything of me, right?" He took off his spectacles and put the paper down all the way.

"Yes Papa, but it's not anything like what I usually want." My face looked a little more desperate than I wanted.

"Ha-ha well don't keep me on the edge of my seat, Vera."

I gulped, "I want to go to a foreign public school alone for my senior year of high school." I was looking down, and I couldn't bring myself to face him for some reason. Perhaps it was because I didn't want him to read any ulterior motives than just pure adventure and curiosity?

"Why?"

"I'd like to try something new, and live differently for a while."

"Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know; I thought I'd ask first."

"Okay, well” he paused momentarily and played with his spectacles, “will you come home for visits?"

My heart leaped, and I knew I was close to freedom, I could practically taste it. I looked up at Papa and smiled, "Yes, I'd want to see you, Baye, and Stefan of course!"

"Okay then." He said in a higher pitch then continued, "I think you have made up your mind about this, as long as you come for visits, I don't see why not." He opened his spectacles and continued reading.

I was utterly shocked because it was easier than I expected, it was almost suspiciously too easy. It made me frightened, but I told myself I was being paranoid. I ran and kissed him on his forehead. "Thanks, Papa!"

When I turned around, I saw a face of horror. Stefan. I didn't acknowledge him and walked past him. I went up to my room to begin researching places for me to live. Russia seemed cold, China seemed dull, and I wasn't interested in being under any communist rule after this. ‘America…. Yes, the land of the free! That's where I'll go,' I thought to myself. A knock on my door startled me. I looked up quickly as the person let herself in, but I was looking at the wrong door. My room had two entrances and exits, one to the main hallway, and one that was nearly invisible- it was the servants' door.

"Anna! You'll never believe what's going on!" I said this excitedly but whispering because I didn't want there to be any chance of Stefan hearing.

She looked grave like someone had killed her closest family member. I jumped from my desk, "What's wrong, are you ill?"

"No," she walked to the bed to start making it, "Your Papa is making plans to plant spies wherever you go to ensure your safety and to stay apprised of your every move."

I wasn't surprised. I started laughing, "Sneaky… Well if that's how he wants to play it." My eyes were dancing at the thought of beating someone at their own game. "It'll be a last-minute decision; I might even leave it up to chance, a roll of the dice."

Anna was finishing up my bed; she was putting the decorative pillows in place when she looked at me. "Vera, you need to address your Papa, set a clear boundary, and maybe still make a last-minute decision. Pick three places to live and set up living arrangements, then decide without telling a soul."

I suddenly felt the weight of what was happening, what I had discovered, and what I was about to do. I started feeling dizzy, and I sat down without thinking through the motion first. I began tearing up, and then I realized I hadn't cried for a long time. My emotions were guarded, they had been guarded for a long time--years perhaps. I think my subconscious had always been warning me of the danger I was in being around Papa, and his greedy tenancies. But I couldn't bring myself to cry, I wanted the sweet release, but it wouldn't come. I was too stubborn and too tough for that. I stood up abruptly and looked at Anna, who had paused her work to look at me; this was something she rarely did.

"You're right. Where's Papa now?" Though Papa worked from home we never crossed paths, we lead different lives, and this was becoming all too clear to me.

"I don't know Ver; you'll have to ask around." She looked relieved I had listened so well.

"I have some boundaries to set, I'll see you tonight." I left immediately. I was on a mission, and I had no intention of stopping. I had no idea what to say, but I'd be damned if I had to live under his crushing wing the rest of my life. As I descended the stairs, I paused to ask Stefan where Papa was.

"I think he might be in the study." He was down, and his eyes pleaded with me silently not to go away.

I didn't say anything or do anything; I didn't know what to do. Stefan loved me, and there was a part of me that loved him too. But I knew that his ultimate loyalty lied with Papa. Loyalty was his biggest weakness and strength; he was blindly loyal. As I approached the study, I did indeed see Papa there. I knocked even though the door was cracked open; luckily it was only him and Big Al, his bodyguard.

"Two surprise visits in one day, Vera?" He was completely collected. Papa could've been a politician.

"Papa, I've heard some distressing news. Are you planning on putting tails on me the entire time I'm away?!" I was bold; I said this without looking away from his eyes. I may have been abnormally shy this morning, but I was channeling the part of me that was more like my Papa, and I was determined to get my way.

"Yes."

"Papa, I can't allow it. I want my privacy, I'll. Be. Just. Fine."

"You can't know that."

"Normal people don't have bodyguards and spies, and they make it out just fine!"

"Normal people are not you. You are coming from a background with top-secret dealings. I will not allow my daughter to have any chance of getting into trouble from my business. Not to mention your exotic beauty, no doubt some men will try to take advantage of you."

I was fuming, and it took all of me not to start screaming at him ‘You're in that category.' "This is my life, and it is my choice. You cannot dispute that!"

"You're right that I'm encroaching upon your agency. But I don't care. I'm your Papa, and that is final."

"Papa, you get out of this life what you tolerate. You have taught me this; I'm refusing your lifestyle. I want to be free from the cares of dangers from your occupation. What you do is your choice, and what my life becomes will be mine. I want freedom. I want to be myself without the worry of people always hearing what I'm saying, or watching what I do."

He started yelling, "I doubt you could ever be normal!"

I was unphased, I was usually exceptional under pressure. The fact Papa was yelling meant he was on his emotional brink. Either I was close to winning, or losing sorely. "Papa, ‘Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.' What better good can you give your daughter than the gift of freedom?" Shakespeare was Papa's favorite; therefore, I had read a lot of him growing up, and in my private school that was incredibly advanced scholastically.

He sighed, "Oh Vera, you are truly my favorite person to be around. How can I refute that?"

"Let me set my boundaries, Papa," I pressed.

He looked at me a long while, he was trying to conjure up some argument we could debate on the matter, but ultimately knew he was beaten. He shook his head, "When did you grow up?" I didn't say anything because I refused to deviate from my course. He sensed this. "I cannot disagree with you, Vera. Just do me one favor, please stay as long as you can before school starts. Don't be too eager to leave me."

I was skeptical of his request; did he have something in mind for me?

"Vera, I want you to have all the comforts of home I hope you'll continue to use my accounts?"

Was he trying to buy my time? Buy my affection? This is the problem with selfish love; it's hard to decipher what was real, and what was selfish. Ultimately I knew I needed to let him win something. "Okay, I'll leave a week before school starts."

"Three days," he countered.

"Deal," I went up to kiss him on the forehead and give him a hug.

When I turned around Stefan looked relieved. I had no idea what he was thinking about, but I didn't want to ask. I went straight up to my room to continue my search for a new home. I didn't want to consider any big cities, but rather small towns. I stumbled across a little town in California called Arcata, it seemed homey, and there was something that pulled me to it. I had no idea why.

 Who could I live with? I wasn't old enough to be on my own in America, so I needed to find someone to take me in. I figured whoever it would be I'd pay well for my rent. It should be someone the people trusted, the mayor perhaps, law enforcement officials…? I ruled out politicians, so I looked up the man in charge of law enforcement. ‘Hmm, Mathew Charter, Sheriff. Okay, I'll reach out, the worst he could say is no.' I started my letter:

Dear Mathew Charter,

My name is Vera Bianchi. I'm a 17-year-old high school student from France. I'm going to the United States this Fall for school, and your cute town caught my eye. I'm not in a program to help me find housing, while this is a large stretch- I was hoping you might be open to opening your home to me. I'd be willing to pay $2,000 a month for my stay. It may seem like I picked a home at random, but I have some logic in this request. I figure that if the people trusted you with their safety, then I could too. If this is something you're not interested in, perhaps you may know someone who would be. But, if you are interested, please give me a call.

Vera Bianchi

I left my number with the letter. I didn't want to take any chances of Mathew writing back to me and having my letter confiscated.

I knew politicians could be bought, so to increase my chances of getting into a public school I made a donation of USD 100,000 to the school system along with a letter to the Mayor. I asked what I needed to provide so I could be admitted to Arcata high school. I started getting my visa processed to go to the United States right away. Anna did a lot of my dirty work so it could stay a secret. I'd picked out two other places as Anna suggested, but my heart longed for Arcata. My visa processed faster than average because money speaks in this world, I could be a permanent resident if I wanted to be.