The Story Of An Anonymous Girl ✔

Chapter 22

MIA

The bell rings, echoing through the walls. He locks the basement door from outside. I hear footsteps for a long time until I hear voices.

This house is three or four-storeyed.

One is his, and the other one is deep and gruff. I can only make out bits though not the whole conversation, and it's mostly the deep one speaking. I stretch my arm out to the maximum to take the pocket knife out of the sole of my sneakers. My hands are tied, so it's a bit difficult. But, since I have been stretching all summer and exercising so; it's not as tedious as it would have been a year ago. Nobody except my parents know that I have a pocket knife. I have had it ever since my father, or as I like to call him - a sperm donor - tried to assault me. Almost no one knows that my sperm donor attempted to assault me.

"......shipment?" The person asks.

"Not...." He responds, his voice timid.

"You said.........last........" The person states.

"Leonardo,....I.....but.......yet." He says. So the other guy's name is Leonardo. His voice is alluring but not as much as Oliver's.

"Roberto,.....any idea.........loss?" His name is Roberto.

The knife is out of my sole. The rope is too damn thick to cut, but I am thankful that I sharpened it last week.

I hear footsteps coming down. But this time, they are heavier. I can perceive the sole of the shoes tapping against the marble staircase.

Finally, my hands are free, and I am pointing my knife at a very handsome six-foot-tall man with coffee-coloured hair and dusky skin. He is wearing dress pants and a dress shirt with a blazer in his hand, all in the darkest shade of black. He has a familiar face.

He's in deep thought until he says, "Amelia Grace Thompson?"

How the fuck does he even know my name? I remember seeing him in one of the photographs on Oliver's' phone. They were standing next to each other, grinning.

"You know Oliver. I have seen photographs of the two of you together." I say in one breath.

"Calmati. Oh, sorry, you don't know Italian. Calm down. My name is Leonardo. You can call me Leo. Yes, I know Oliver. He is my brother." He states.

"Isn't Noah his brother?" I ask as I crouch down to put the knife back in the sole of my sneaker.

"We aren't blood brothers." He responds and I can only manage an Oh out of my mouth.

"C'mon, let's get you out of here. You might wanna stretch your wrist out and keep rotating it; otherwise, it'll hurt like a bitch. Same for your ankles." He says while removing his phone out of his pants' pocket.

"Okay." I reply, rotating my wrist.

He presses some buttons and starts talking to someone.

"Ehi, amico. Dove sei?"

"Lo so."

"Sono con lei adesso."

"Va bene. Saremo dentro."

"Ciao."

("Hey, man. Where are you?"

"I know."

"I'm with her right now."

"Okay. We'll be inside."

"Bye." )

As if on cue, my ankles start hurting like a bitch and I yelp.