His words cut deep. He actually seem to be the only one looking out for me, and I know I keep putting him in difficult situations, like when he had to rat out Matteo to the don, and now, taking my side over his own man. The guilt came in waves.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry won't cut it, Sylvia!" he growled out.
My stunned expression didn't go unnoticed by him.
"We ran a background check" he answered my unspoken question about how he knew my full name. So that's how they knew my size and the type of outfits I like. Makes me wonder what else they knew about me.
Romano sighed as he pressed the power button of his phone, shutting the screen and placing it back in the back pocket of his grey silk pants. He adjusted the sleeves of his white poker dotted shirt to rest nicely just below his elbow, settling his gaze on me, he sighed, a defeated look on his face as he uttered the words that had me dreading my existence right now.
"Word has spread, the don asks me to bring you to him."
"I… I can't go!" I stuttered out, backing away from him.
"Sylvia, don't make this any harder than it needs to be, move!" he said with a more serious tone than I have ever heard from him.
"Please Romano… he's going to kill me" I begged, shaking my head vigorously as renewed tears flowed from my eyes again. Romano didn't say anything, but his demeanor changed completely into a cold, distant one as he gripped my arm with intense force and tightness and led us away from the 4th floor.
I kept pleading with him not to take me to the don, even as he punched in the number 05 into the elevator, he completely ignored every word I spoke. On getting to our destination, he turned to me before the elevator doors opened.
"If you survive this, you won't survive the next."
A solid threat and at the same time, a solid advice. I didn't have the chance to respond, because the doors swung open, revealing a space that made the grand 4th floor look low class.
No time to actually take in the elegance of the 5th floor, seeing as the don was right in front of us with his back turned and his front was facing the overly wide floor to ceiling windows that had its curtains drawn back, basking the entire space in the golden light of the hot afternoon sun. The air smelled of rich fragrance as well as smoke. I was confused at first until the don turned to face us, that was when I saw the big brown cigar in between his lips.
"Leave us" he ordered Romano, who nodded once, before exiting the space the way he came, leaving me alone with the don.
I absolutely wish the earth would just swallow me right now, because what is this extreme intense stare? I looked everywhere but at him.
"I heard you like to fight"
His voice calm, and collected but still managed to envelope the entirety of the room. I shook my head with desperation.
"No plea-" My words got caught in my throat when he suddenly walked towards me with powerful strides, the look on his face was colder than ice, but it only highlighted his sexiness the more. The fuck is wrong with me? He could kill me at any moment, and I'm thinking of what? his sexiness??
I released a shaky breath, tilting my head down in a submissive manner.
"Raise your head up, woman." He commanded.
I did as ordered, my head tilted back up, but I still didn't meet his gaze.
"Look at me." He commanded again.
I may be hallucinating, but his voice kind of dropped lower. With a fast-beating heart and shaky breath, I slowly raised my head up to stare directly at his eyes. Gosh! They're hypnotic! Get a fucking grip Syl! I chided myself.
I swallowed as he clenched his jaw, nothing readable displayed in his eyes though. We stayed that way for a brief moment before he said the words that made me choke on my spit.
"Well lucky me, I have a fighting ring in my gym."
I stared at him wide eyed. He's not being serious right now. He wants to fight me? In a fighting ring?
"I-"
"That way" he impatiently cut me off, although I stood rooted to the spot, still in disbelief.
"I won't repeat myself, woman!" he growled.
I know I've been warned by Romano to always keep shut, but my big mouth just wouldn't listen, hence the absolute unwise words that spewed out of my mouth next made me regret ever inheriting his stupidity and stubbornness.
"If you're going to kill me, just get on with it now, slow death by repetitive punches is not the way I ever imagined to die."
My words however, had no effect on the don, in fact he looked bored, like he was expecting me to say something stupid.
He looked at me for a brief moment, unamused before unexpectedly grabbing a handful of my hair and literally dragging me to the way he had pointed out for me earlier. If I thought the man's grip on the 4th floor was strong, then I wasn't prepared for this. It was as if he was punishing me for uttering such stupid words to him, and the more I tried to wiggle out of his hold, he only responded by tightening his grip.
Tears stung my eyes as they rolled down my cheeks, and yes, it was from how painful my hair was being assaulted in that very moment. The pain felt never ending, until he finally released his hold, and roughly pushed me into the gym. I stumbled and fell.
"Get up!" he barked. Looking down at me with emotionless eyes.
I didn't dare to tarry as I forced myself to stand on my feet, trying and failing to ignore the pounding and burning sensation in my head.
"Che cosa è questo, Lucien?"
I turned to the source of the siren call of a voice, just now noticing the very attractive and fit woman standing in the middle of the ring, holding the black punching bag in place, her breath, rushed but controlled still.
She wore a navy-blue sports bra and matching leggings with Puma sneakers. Her fair skin glistened with sweat and her brunette hair held in a tight bun atop her head. The fact that she addressed him by his name didn't go unnoticed by me. Is she one of his whores? Or one of the mafias?
"She likes to fight, let's see what she's got." He casually responded, not once taking his eyes off of me.
"Get in the ring."
I wanted to plead, to apologize, but I knew better than to utter a single word right now. He has so many ways to punish me, to cause me great pain, in fact I think a gun shot is actually him being at his most merciful self. The grip on my hair wasn't just anyhow, it was professional, he knew just how to tighten and twist his wrists to cause immense pain, it was a form of torture.
So, with a pounding head, I entered the ring, meeting the gaze of the woman who seemed my age, but a tad bit shorter. She tilted her head.
"What did you do?"
I kept mute, very aware of his piercing gaze on the back of my head.
"Not much of a talker? Fine, I hope you love to scream" she teased with a smirk, before throwing a straight a punch to my face.
"Fucking hell!" I screamed.