Property Of Vittore Martinelli ✓

1

Years later...

I slipped in and out of consciousness. My mind was foggy and my body numb. I slowed my breathing and relaxed as much as I could. Slowly, my body got feeling again as my mind cleared. I was lying on my side, my arms and legs bound. There was a cloth tied in my mouth and a bag thrown over my head. Judging by the weird heat at both sides of my legs and somewhere near my back, I would say there were three people with me. I was sleeping on a cold metal surface and I could just tell we were in a car or van.

The feeling was like déjà vu. It's been so long since I had been in a car. At that moment, it was sort of a bittersweet feeling but that disappeared when I wondered where I was being taken. They never took people out of the "safe house" unless they were going to be killed. I tried not to move or draw attention to myself. They thought I was asleep. That was good. For a blissful moment, I thought I could escape.

For a moment, I had hope that was bad. Very very bad. I had never felt hopeful since that day. I had forgotten what it was like and will soon never remember. Hope was dangerous. Hope gets me beaten. It gets me killed. It makes that little flame I have in me ignite only to be controlled. I can't go through another breakdown. Not now. Not again. So, I did as I was taught, I gave up. But not for long. 

* * *

The car slowly came to a stop. "Wake up!" someone shouted and kicked my back. I groaned and folded myself into a ball. A hand harshly grabbed my arm, followed by another and I was pulled into a standing position. My head hang as I was dragged up what felt like stairs if the corners digging into my knees said anything.

Harsh lights flashed through the other side of the bag on my head. I was pulled and we stopped. There was a ding and my stomach dropped with a familiar feeling. We were going up in an elevator. My heart skipped a beat. I didn't know what to feel. My heart was beating but my emotions failed me. I was trained to be this emotionless thing. And I'm so sad to report I was taught well.

We got off the elevator and I was dragged down a hall. For a moment, I heard the faint sound of deep thumping music and voices but I couldn't assess what they were before the sound of a door opening reached my ears. I was dragged into the new room and thrown to the ground.

"My gift has finally arrived," I knew that voice. That voice was the origin of my fall, the only demon bigger than myself that resides in the darkest parts of my mind.

I was pulled to sit on my knees as the bag was pulled off my head. I hissed as the harsh light in the room blinded me. I blinked, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the light. I hadn't been exposed to something this bright in so long. Once I managed to see, black dots not obscuring my vision, I looked up. His hair was more grey, he was skinnier and had more wrinkles on his face but he was still the same.

"Great to see you again my little spitfire. How have you been?" my mind came to a pause. He was here, in front of me after all this time. "I'm so sorry I didn't introduce myself before. My name is Matteo Martinelli. A few years too late but at least you know my name," he said.

Matteo Martinelli. What could I say? He ruined my life, no, my father did. He was just the one who lost in the exchange they made. I wasn't worth what he gave to my father. I was better off on the streets than with him again.

You are nothing so you feel nothing! Repeat it! Now!

That voice echoed in my head loud and clear like the man who said them was right in front of me. I am nothing so I feel nothing, I mentally repeated. I looked up at Matteo. My eyes were cold, emotionless... haunted. He smirked. "I see Jordan taught you well. By the dead look in your eyes, I can tell he got in your head, right?" he asked caressing my cheek.

He was right. Jordan did get into my head but one thing remained. One promise I refused to let myself forget or let go. As Matteo looked at me, what he thought was a broken doll, my flame was trying to grow bigger. He was going to pay. They all were.

"Well I think now that we are acquainted, we can go see my son. I bought you for him you know. A perfect specimen, perfect for an heir," he said with a sick smile. I was no breeder. I would not have whatever heir he thought I would plus, he was wrong. Poor ol' daddy knew nothing about my medical condition. Only Violet knew. Oh Violet... I wonder where she was now or if she even realised I was gone. My father must have covered it up but Violet and I, we were as thick as thieves. There was nothing I never told her. 

Matteo flicked his wrist and turned on his heel and I was pulled by his goons to follow him. "Tell my son I want him in my office. I have a little present for him," he ordered one of the guards who left immediately. "You my little spitfire, are going to change this mafia as we know it."

He said it in a teasing tone, his thick Italian accent never wavering but he didn't know how true his words were.

Because once his son walked through that door, nothing would be the same, for either of us.