"Matteo, you have 60 seconds"
His voice, dropped to a very low octave so low that it sounded scarier than when it boomed.
Matteo slowly lowered his gun, as sweat creased his forehead, and armpits, his clothes gradually became drenched.
"I… it was a surprise, I didn't expect her to-" he rushed out, but the don cut him off
"It was a moment of weakness" He said, in that chilling low voice again.
Matteo loudly gulped, before replying "Yes, do-" he didn't have the chance to finish his statement, everything happened so fast, so fast I could barely register it. The only confirmation was the unmistakable feeling of something being splashed on my face, then came the strong metallic smell, and then the sensation of something crawling down my cheeks. Blood.
My closed eyes opened and they were wide as saucers, Romano pushed the rag further down my throat, sending me a clear message. Don't make a sound. My breathing came out rushed, my heart working overtime as it tirelessly hammered in my chest, the loud thumping sound of Matteo's body hitting the floor felt like naked wire to skin, as it made me jump, I dare not look down.
My eyes were completely focused on the empty space in front of me, the wall suddenly looked artistic and interesting to me. The don lowered his gun as he turned to face me.
I tried to make myself look small as I leaned into Romano who stood beside my sitting frame, he noticed this and moved away to stand behind me. Fuck you Romano!
The don stared at me for a moment too long, his penetrating hazel eyes, scrutinized my whole frame, and it made me extremely nervous, I felt as though he could see right through me. My forehead dripped with sweat as I consciously shifted in my position, still he didn't look away, and I didn't dare to hold his gaze this time around.
The tension was as thick as brick, and I felt the air closing in on me. I can't hyperventilate now, not now please! I willed my mind to stay sharp, if he could discard his own man like that, because of just one moment of weakness, what would he do to me, someone he gives zero fuck about! Dear Lord. If he keeps staring I-
"Lo farai" was all he said before turning back the way he came.
Nobody moved or made a sound until the fading sound of his heavy steps went out completely. As if we had been underwater for ages, Romano and I released a heavy breath at the same time. I made muffled sounds, signaling him of my limited ability to form coherent words, and he didn't waste time in removing the rag from my mouth. I spewed out spit, I didn't care at that point, that thing's dirty and used as fuck.
"What… what did he say?" I asked Romano.
I somehow feel comfortable with him, I know it's unwise, he's just as bad as the rest of them, I mean our first encounter was in the middle of a murder, which he committed, so yeah, I might be crazy a little.
"You'll do" came Romano's rejoinder.
"What the hell does that mean?" I retorted.
Even though a little part of me has an idea of what that meant, I still chose to live in disbelief, better than accepting that painful fact.
"I don't know" was all he said, as he untied the rope, successfully releasing my wrists, making the sweet feeling of relief wash over me. He grabbed my arm, and pulled me up, forcing me to be a part of his excruciatingly long stride out of the basement.
"I am not going to be a sex slave!" I declared, trying to yank my arm away from his unsurprisingly strong grip, which only made him tighten his firm hold on me. He grunted is frustration.
"You will not, he has enough of that… I think" Romano gritted out.
Oh, I mean I've read a lot of mafia stories and watched like movies too about how the girl becomes a sex slave to the don hence, why I rounded up the meaning of his words in my mind. Now that I've been proved wrong, it's actually killing me not knowing what plans the don has for me.
We strode past hallways and into an elevator, Romano imputed the numbers 04 prompting the elevator to adhere to his command, it was a transparent one. 4th floor? How huge is the place!
"Where are you taking me?" I asked a visibly frustrated Romano, who completely ignored me.
The elevator dinged, in sync with the sliding doors as they swiftly parted for us to step out. Still being held by Romano's unwavering grip, I said
"You don't need to hold me this tightly, it's not like I can escape" I was completely ignored again, although he did loosen his grip a little.
The 4th floor was majestic, and exuded luxury. Radiant artworks hung the walls, each taking up its own little or wide space against the Whitish grey coated walls, that shined as if it was polished to perfection. That is definitely not the type of paint I am used to. A grand chandelier hung above the high ceiling, casting a phantasma of colors around the space. Black sofas that looked ten times more comfortable that my bed at home, sat pretty and neatly arranged around an artistic carved glass center table. A fluffy dark grey rug, separated the obviously expensive furniture from the polished tiled floor. The kitchen was just behind the sitting the area, carefully detached by a long glass top counter. The kitchen, from where I stood looked modernized to the brim.
"Are these all for me?" I couldn't help but ask out loud.
For the first time since we left that dreadful basement, Romano spared me a glance, one that held amusement in those green eyes of his.
"No, it's not" he retorted
We walked past the sitting area, and kitchen before turning right and landed in a very long hallway, lined with rows of refined wooden doors on both sides. The hallway seemed never ending, and the doors, each has numbers on them. What the fuck is this 4th floor?
We stepped on soft and lush looking navy-blue rug, the walls of the hallway were coated in a reddish wine color. Modern bulbs, lined seamlessly after each other, they lit the hallway down to the end.
Romano edged me forward with his grip around my arm, my puzzled expression never once faltered as we paced past doors with their numbers boldly carved in… gold.
17, 18, 20, 23, 24… and then we stopped in front of the door that read 25.
The light bulb moment came, and then it all clicked.
"Am I a fucking prisoner? Is that what he plans to keep me as?" My voice rose up a little.
If it had any effect on Romano, he didn't show it, instead he unlocked the door, and pushed me inside. His frustration now very palpable, and his accent thicker than ever as he growled out
"You better learn to keep that sharp mouth of yours shut, if you wish to last a week here, this will be your room and space, everything has been made ready, go have a proper bath, you stink, and learn some fucking manners!"
He slammed the doors shut, leaving me to stand there and process everything that just happened.
Here, I thought he was a little bit better than the ones I've encountered so far, so much for being comfortable.
There was no way to check the time, I have no idea where they kept my phone, but judging by the chilly breeze and dark shade behind the black curtains, I knew it was dark out, more like mid-night.
Although, I hated the fact he did have a point, I heed to what Romano said, and headed for the bathroom. Everything was so white, I had to blink a few times to adjust to the complete contrast in color to the grey and black theme of the room.
After brushing my teeth three times, just to forget the foul taste of the rag that was stuffed in my mouth, I rinse my mouth, eventually acknowledging the fact that the taste was gone from my mouth, and that it was all in my head. I walked into the glass encased bathroom, and scrubbed myself so hard, I knew it'd bruise. I let the shower cascade over my 5'7 frame from my head down to my toes.
My emotions suddenly overwhelmed me, as I replayed my life's event right from when I left work, how things could have been different if I didn't work double shifts that day, and just left after my afternoon shift ended. Fresh warm tears mixed with the water from the modern shower as it flowed down my cheeks, the tears fell harder as I thought about my little brother and mom, how worried they'd be by now, or worse what if these people tracked them down and killed them so there'd be no one looking for me.
I couldn't stop my mind from exploring these haunting thoughts and scenarios, all I could do was let the tears fall. My whole body felt weak, as it began to register the amount of stress it had been put through for what a week? I don't even know how long I was out for, I knew I was sedated, a gun knockout would not really have this much effect I'm sure. How long was I sedated for? How much of the chemical was pumped into my body?" I could feel it in my gut that we weren't in the US any more, where the hell are we? Not having an answer to these questions only made me want to scream out, but I held it in and converted it to a full-on sob.
I slid down the glass case of the bathroom, till I was sitting on the floor. I hugged myself tight as I cried, the waters dripping from the shower felt like needle on my skin. I don't know how long I sat there crying, but I eventually turned off the shower, and stepped out of it.
After navigating the closet and settling on a black pajama set, I laid under the satin covers of the annoyingly soft bed and kept sobbing until I unconsciously drift into the peace of the dark abyss.