The Rules Series

of choice. It signified happiness. Can’t be happy when you’re supposed to be in mourning. I had an almost entirely red wardrobe delivered today. It was taboo over the past forty-nine days to wear it, but I made sure to wear a pair of lacy red lingerie underneath my clothing for each and every one of those days. Not only was I happy, but I was ecstatic. The monster was gone.
All the deities my father kept here had been covered up with red paper after his death so as not to disrespectfully expose his corpse to them. I made sure they were the first items to be packed away with care and removed. I may not be a Buddhist, but I respected the religion. Also, all the mirrors that had been removed, because tradition said those of us in mourning shouldn’t see the reflection of my father’s coffin in them or it would bring about an untimely death, were destroyed. I personally removed the white cloth that hung over the doorway to his house and the gong that was placed to the left of the entrance. Gone. All of it was now gone. I got rid of all traces of Chang Lee-Xiou except one, his office.
Now, I thought to myself, here I am sitting in his office wearing, from head to toe, red. A two-piece double breasted suit with matching stilettos to be exact. I wanted everyone to know I was screaming happiness. I was finally in my rightful place. I extended and lifted my long legs, crossing them at the ankle and resting them on the edge of his desk. Funny, I was barely able to sit on the other side of it just to have a conversation with him, now I could do whatever I want. Rather than dancing on top of the table, I ran my hands down the armrests of his old leather chair as I glanced around wondering how I was going to put my stamp on this room. I hadn’t yet touched it. I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to. It was a stark reminder to pay attention to everything especially those closest to you. Had my father done that, he would probably be alive today. It was his own fault for not taking me seriously.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one. Every man who ever meant anything to me never took me seriously. None worse than my own father. He underestimated me. The smirk on my face was not because I found it amusing; no, it was quite the opposite. The man I most looked up to as the smartest and most powerful person in the world, couldn’t see himself in me. How sad, because I was much smarter than any of those idiots he surrounded himself with. I bided my time, watched and learned right under his nose, and he missed everything. Now he’s dead. Briefly, I closed my eyes remembering that day. The day I killed my father. It was really too bad, but it was either him or me, and it for damn sure wasn’t going to be me. I guess one could say it was an unfortunate casualty of this business.
As my eyes opened, I took in every detail inside of the room. I decided to get rid of it all except maybe this chair. It would stay as a reminder to never underestimate the enemy. It didn’t hurt that the leather was so smooth and soft. Perhaps, I’d also leave that picture of him with the slight scowl on his face on the wall, arms folded, and looking at everyone with that piercing dark stare that goes clear through your soul. Yes, I’ll leave it hanging on the wall. He looked so untouchable in that one. Like with everything else looks can be deceiving.
I used to think the person who got to sit in this old chair had all the power. As a matter of fact, I still believe that. It cost me everything to occupy this seat. Was it worth all the sacrifices I made to be here? Missing my niece grow up? The love of my life? I didn’t know, but I was going to find out.
My father was ruthless and evil. I wouldn’t say I was evil per say, but if doing what I have to do makes me ruthless, then I’d gladly accept the title. To say my father lacked tolerance for anyone who wouldn’t bend to his will was an understatement. That I inherited from him. So far, that message had been delivered loud and clear with the death of Mr. Wong. Three of the eight families had fallen in line. I’d convince the other three soon enough.
There may have been a part of me that loved my father once; I wasn’t really sure. He killed my mother, my sister, and if I hadn’t killed him first, Cecily would be dead, and I wouldn’t be sitting here reminiscing about dear old dad.
Two swift knocks brought me out of my thoughts. “Yes?” I took my legs down from the table and swiveled my chair around to see who was at the door as it slowly crept open.
“Ms. Lee-Xiou? Are you ready for us to clear this room?” The movers had arrived.
I took a deep breath before glancing back at it one last time. After I committed every detail to memory, I stood up. “Yes. Not only do I want you to clear everything out except for this chair and that picture—” I pointed towards the portrait on the wall. “I want you to burn it. Burn every last piece