The Girl He Had To Marry- An Arranged Marriage Story

Chapter Forty-Nine: Second Act

"You must really resonate with your character on stage," A voice said behind her. It was a familiar voice. She was suppose to be along in her dressing room, since she was changing back into her street clothes. She whipped around to see the infamous missing brother, Dylan Romano. 

Confused by why he was even at her show in the first place, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

Without her hearing or seeing, DR took the opportunity to look her door behind him. Once completing the task, he pushed himself off the door and stalked his prey. "What I am doing here? Well aren't we family?" He smirked sinisterly. "I wanted to see the big show and I came down to ask you a question." On the last word, he took his finger and booped her nose. She tried to back away, but hit the counter behind her. 

Dylan was slightly taller than Quentin. Her neck craned a little bit farther than what she was use too. She was threatened and trapped by the strange man. 

With his face so close to her's, she finally got a good look at him. The dusty dark blonde hair, deep dark circles, a crooked septum, and the lanky figure. "You were the one that came to my house in San Francisco." She pointed her index finger and jabbed his chest. 

"Wow," he wasn't even intimidated by the smaller girl. "You should take my job. A real Sherlock Homes."

She tried to stand her ground and seem proud, but it was hard. Her legs were weak from dancing in high block heals. Penny was literally shaking in her boots. "S-So what is your job?"

Penny could also see that Dylan was in far worst condition that the last time she saw him. It was a miracle that she could even recognize him; however, the stench disappointment and shame was strong on him. His facial hair was haphazardly grown out into patchy sections. The whites of his eyes were covered with small, red veins, indicating that he spent the night before (and probably the day of) drinking. He was hunched over, his spine bent slightly, as if he was carrying the weight of the world. 

What was he carrying? she wanted to ask, but it wasn't time for a deep discussion. 

"My job....hmm my job," Dylan was starting to become more and more like the infamous Joker character to Penny as he slowly depends into madness while monologuing. "Well, if I told you my job I would have to kill you." He chuckles lightheartedly, but she knew there was nothing lighthearted about him. She tried to laugh along, to liven the dreary mood of the dressing room. "But I guess I am doing that anyways." From behind his waist, tucked into his pants, a black handgun sat firmly in his palm. 

It wasn't point at the girl, but it was enough to make her shake harder and breath worse. 

Still trying to be strong, she stands straighter and ask, "So, you've come to kill me."

"My family, this world isn't meant for scum like you" He spits, drawing back and looking away. She tried to slid away to the door, but he moved faster. His whole frame blocked the only exit. 

"You can't be much better than I if you are trying to kill me," Penny shot back. Her confidence was surly false, but it was almost believable. 

"It's a necessary evil. You have made yourself home here, with my family, while you should be paying for your crimes."

Her heart sank. He can't...does he know? How would he know? 

She made an obvious face that told DR that she knew exactly what he was talking about. Her lips parted, her stance shifted. She tried to cover it, "I don't know wh-what you are talking about," but her wavering voice told more than her face. 

"Come on, Penelope," DR started to walk forward, pushing her back against the wall. He brought the gun closer to his chest, examining it and threatening her. "Don't play games with me. I know what happened that night." Another step forward. "You killed your own father by stabbing him with a kitchen knife." Tears formed in the corners of her eyes.