Why don't you ask him yourself?
I gulp, my hands shaking violently as a strong pit forms in my stomach, and manage a small shake of the head 'no'.
Achille raises an eyebrow at me, but I'm too focused on the bizarre feelings coarsing through me, both physically and emotionally.
"Let go of her." Luca's voice rings in my ears, an angry, clipped tone as he speaks to his father.
I look to Achille, an entertained expression as he gazes at Luca. "But I just got started!" He exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air exasperatedly.
I don't know everything for sure yet, I remind myself.
"Ivy." Luca coos, his tone low. "Ivy- Ivy listen to m—"
"Is it true?" I interrupt, finally locking eyes with him, the gray hues that for the first time I've met him, show fear.
Luca's fists clench and open, clench and open, the repetition of a habit I've seen so many times, I've even started to mimic it.
He stays silent, and with each passing moment my heart shatters a little more. Achille taps his foot impatiently before letting out a large huff, "Come on son! She deserves the truth, doesn't she?" Achille faces me. "You might be a little confused," He begins, and I lazily move my head to meet him, eyes narrowed in his direction. "I'm sure you know about your mafia and mine's... differences."
"That's one way to put it." I mutter, using a surprising amount of courage considering mayhem storming in my mind and body.
Thankfully, Achille doesn't hear it, saving me from yet another torturous beating.
"When you began working, your family began to sneak up the ranks, and tie at number one with mine, just when my mafia had hit its peak." I glare at him, internally scoffing at his cockiness when I know for a fact that those years of success are to give to his son. "I worked very hard to bring you down, recruited that little Cleo, but she got boring with her bizarre photo wall of my son, and screaming about how she wanted to kill you. Oh! And Adrien, although I killed him off when he got too irritating as well." Achille tilts his head a little, "A shame, really, he was quite... fond of you."
I swallow harshly, the severity of the situation truly hitting me now.
"Yes, he isn't on sick leave, my apologies, you should work on a permanent replacement." Achille sighs, a smirk gracing his features and combatting his mock-sympathy. "And that Viktor, very determined, that one." I subconsciously raise my shoulders at the mention of Viktor, and curl my fists into an automatic fighting stance.
I catch Luca stilling in his chair at the name as well, he looks calm, unbothered even, but I can tell there's a murderous itch getting at him.
"But I was missing something. After all, you are not an easy thing to capture." Achille smiles at me as if he's just given me the most heartwarming compliment ever, but I just glare back at him, quickly recognizing the objectification. "So when I found out my son landed a job with your mafia, I was ecstatic!" He exclaims. "I found the perfect in." He shakes his head, reminiscing as if he's thinking about his own genius capabilities.
I square my shoulders back, that same certain confidence rushing through me again. "Then why the fuck am I in this dirty dungeon?" I question, as Achille's eyes darken.
"Disobidient little girl." Achille tuts, mimicking my same shoulder movements, emphasizing the few inches he has on me, he motions to the two guards, and they both yank on my arms in a painful, stretching way that causes my already aching muscles to feel like they're tearing apart. They keep pulling me, Achille monitoring my increasingly uncomfortable face, no matter how much I try to hide it. "You will not interrupt me anymore, understood?"
