The last thing Zoey saw before she expired was a heel.

 

A jet black heel, worn by the woman who had betrayed her.

 

A jet black heel, worn by the woman who had betrayed the world for love and power.

 

A jet black heel, slamming down on her face in one last act of dominance before the gunshot rang out. 

 

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She had known this wouldn’t be an easy conversation, just as its results wouldn’t make for an easy life, but something about her father’s frustrated yelling really put both of those truths into focus.

 

William: “You really wanna walk out on your legacy, walk out on your family!? Fine! See you in six months when reason finally breaks through your thick skull!”

 

Rose: Reason!? What about any of this is reasonable? What reason does this family have to justify its insatiable lust for blood money, and how could it possibly stack up against the reasons the things we do are fucking evil!?

 

 

William: Insolent child! I don’t remember you complaining about your horseback riding lessons or the day me and your mother shut down the Louvre for your private tour! If that's blood money then you’ve been a vampire since birth!

 

Rose: Well, maybe I have!

 

 

William: Jesus Fuck Rose! You're an adult. Start acting like it!

 

Rose: You mean actively overseeing the looting of the world so I can watch an imaginary line go up? Killing whoever I must to throw ever more gold into a grotesque pile neither of us could even dream of spending in a thousand lifetimes?

 

 

 

William: Yes! For the sake of all that is holy yes, do the goddamn thing you were raised to! The House of Vaeni didn’t spend thirty-five generations building up a legacy for you to liquidate it in one.

 

Rose: Ah, legacy, the wonderful and storied history of the immeasurably noble House of Vaeni, how could I forget? 700 years ago count McDoucheface of the Imperial Palatinate of Fuckelshtein sided with a pseudo-German Emperor in the 20 millionth war of intra silk-stocking conflict against the Baguette King, prize lands in the low countries blah, blah, blah, Dutch East Indies Company and some imperialism you always skipped over when you told the story, some plantations here, a mine there, war profiteering, and just outright turning entire nations into personal fiefdoms, oh, and now setting the planet on fire as the sole owners of the largest oil drilling corporation in the world. Am I missing anything Papa?”

 

For a moment William’s face turns red, his face and indeed entire body seemingly captured by a tidal wave of rage. For a moment, until the fire seemingly burned out and he simply sighed and rested his temple on his folded hand.

 

William: No dear, you're missing everything. I’m sorry it's apparently hard for you to accept, but you come from a very special family, one which has carved out for itself by its own hands a multigenerational chain of love and foresight. The count “McDoucheface” as you call him is a man who will never know your name, and yet his efforts to secure prosperity for his descendants means he cared to the point of devoting his life to help you all the same. Like it or not you are the heiress to the oldest aristocratic family left, and you cannot smash part of that legacy without taking down the whole. 

 

Now it was Rose’s turn to sigh.

 

Rose: No, Dad, I know, I know. I just can’t do it. You and mom and I guess even Mr. McDoucheface have been nothing but wonderful to me over the years, and part of me wishes I could turn around and keep that legacy going but I just can’t. Emma and I are building a new kind of love, one that allows us to build each other up without tearing everyone else down. Knowing what that’s like, Dad, I’m sorry but I physically can’t bring myself to be the person you want me to be.

 

William chuckled with a mix of appreciation and regret

 

William: You sound more and more like your communist girlfriend every day. I knew from the first time you brought her home she’d be a dreadful influence. 

 

Rose responded with a sad smile

 

Rose: Dad, Emma’s the only positive influence I’ve ever had. 

 

 

Emma was walking back to her apartment when she saw Mrs. Vaeni was waiting for her. She'd known for a long time now that Rose's parents didn't exactly approve of their pairing, or even of her personally, but these constant patronizing and hostile visits had to qualify as harassment at this point. Not that she could stop them of course.

 

Mrs. Vaeni: “Hi Emma! It’s so good to see you again!”

 

Mrs Vaeni went in for a hug and Emma was too stunned to stop her

 

 

Mrs. Vaeni: “I’m sorry my husband and I have been a bit much over the past few months. You must understand our daughter’s safety and happiness is the most important thing in the world to us, and though it took us a long time to get over our initial shock that she would pair herself to someone of such a… common background, we’ve come to see how much you two really love each other. We’re done pushing you both away, I’ve come to bury the hatchet.”

 

Emma: “I appreciate the gesture, Mrs Vaeni; unfortunately-

 

Mrs. Vaeni: “Please, call me Clementine. You're part of the family now, Emma!”

 

 

Mrs. Vaeni: “As a peace offering, and a symbol of the fact that you're one of us now, I got you a little gift!”

 

As if on cue, the fragments of Emma’s mind began to turn on each other at the reveal of the “peace offering”, and the way it was introduced.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was then that Emma’s spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a brisk tap on the shoulder, and the ever so slightly impatient grin on Mrs. Vaeni’s face when she finally came to.

 

Mrs. Vaeni: “As I was saying.”

 

Mrs. Vaeni reached behind the potted bush that had been hiding Emma’s marvelous gift, and pulled out a gorgeous handmade jewelry box with a rose carved into its top. Despite the protestations from her inner angel, Emma opened it, and was blown away by what she saw inside. A necklace, laced in gold, composed of at least a dozen rubies encrusted in diamond along their side, each one carved into the shape of a different flower, and the one in the front carved into a rose. It was mesmerizing, so much so that it took Emma more than a few seconds to notice the humble key at the bottom of the chest.

 

Mrs. Vaeni: “The keys are for your new car by the way; my driver parked it across the block to maintain the surprise.”

 

For a long moment, Emma practically danced to the melody of the endorphins which flowed through her mind. Finally, as if suddenly remembering a terrible tragedy, she stole herself and put on a more reasonable smile.

 

Emma: Mrs- Clementine, this is too generous. I’m extremely grateful to you and William but I couldn’t possibly-

 

Mrs. Vaeni: Oh Emma, don’t be silly. We both know no gift could set me back to any meaningful degree, and it’ll be good for you to develop some champagne tastes now while you don’t have to worry about your novice embarrassing you in front of non-existent connections. It took me far too long to see it, but now I know my family’s ethic lives in your soul just as comfortably as it does in mine. Thank you for proving me wrong about you, future Emma Vaeni. 

 

 

 

 

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Even a full four hours after the encounter, “Emma Vaeni” couldn’t help but stare. 

 

Into the mirror, into the abyss. 

 

Was this who she was, deep down?

 

If so, was she always this person, a mere unruly commodity waiting to be properly bought?

 

Or has her love for Rose allowed the family to somehow rub off on her, allowing a pinch of darkness to seep into her soul?

 

Emma Vaeni…

 

She touched her fingers to her lips and slowly caressed herself, whoever she was, she couldn’t deny something about the situation felt truly magical.

 

Sitting there on the sofa, adorned at once with more wealth than she’d ever touched in her 24 years.

 

Adorned with a collar of diamonds and jewels, at once a sign of her status above the world and below its most beautiful.

 

Adorned with a collar of diamonds and jewels, allowing herself mentally to fall into the depths of depravity her emerging position would leave her capable of.

 

Marinating in it.

 

Being molded by the weight of power itself baring down into her shoulders, staring into the glimmer knowing on some level she would be blinded by it.

 

For days she would be accompanied by that sofa in a journey of self-discovery, one full of pauses and contemplations and serious, dire statements that the things she embraced in the heat of the neverending moment could never translate to the world beyond; a transition all the same. 

 

The girl who Emma once was tried to fight it, to do anything and everything to stay true to her ideals, but against thirty-five generations of power she had no hope. 

 

Armed with that power Emma Vaeni slowly, painfully, methodically, and gloriously drowned her, pushing her ever deeper into the depths of a blackened soul until the sound of her screaming faded away.  

 

Only when the waters had finally claimed their first of many victims did the monster they had borne rise to the surface.