Vengeance: DARK MAFIA ROMANCE

Twenty-three

Natalia

I'm starting to lose myself. Back when I lived with Vincente, I retreated so far into myself that I became an object, empty and unfeeling. In the years since I ran away, I've found myself over countless hours of struggling and fighting to rediscover the beautiful world around me. It took Vincente about thirty seconds to undo it all. I've peed on the floor, I've cried until my eyes burn like sandpaper, and even though I must be hungry I can't feel anything anymore.

All I know is that he's coming back. It's probably only been an hour since he left, but it feels like years. How am I going to survive an eternity of this? I know I won't. Eventually, sooner or later, I'll decide that death is preferable and I'll find a way to make it happen. I shiver, curled up on the stone floor.

Savio's shirt bunches up under my chin and I catch another faint whiff of his scent. It makes my chest burn. I would give anything to see his face again, to rest my hands against his warm skin and feel his muscles move. But it's all a lie. He lured me in so he could kill me one day, in retaliation for something I wasn't even old enough to remember. I'm just a tool to him, and he worked me with deft hands.

A faint pop sounds far, far above my head. I roll over to look at the ceiling, not that I can see anything. How far underground am I? If I'm just one floor down, the sound could be something falling on the floor. If I'm much deeper, there's a small chance it's something louder, like a gun. The sound comes again, twice in quick succession. I sit up, propping myself on swollen, aching hands. It grows into a series of bangs with the percussive power of a firearm.

The silence stretches out for so long that I almost give up and lie back down. Then I clearly hear a door open nearby. Fuck hope, I think, as I sit tensely in the dark. It's just Vincente coming back again, but my mind absolutely won't let go of the idea that someone's coming to rescue me. Hope is cruel.

As if to throw my thoughts back in my face, the door to my cell opens and I'm flooded with a light that stings my burning eyes. Vincente towers over me, mouth drawn and eyes intent. I recognize his expression the second I see it. He's very angry, and I'm the one who is going to pay. I try to crawl away, but my arms and legs cramp agonizingly and I collapse. His desire to taunt and play has vanished, and he strides right over to me, grabbing my chin in his strong fingers and trying to kiss me.

I fight, struggling to twist my face away as his lips brush mine. Every touch hurts me more than ever as I feel the ghost of Savio's gentle hands. He backhands me across the face, tearing a cry of pain from my lips. When he pulls me back into a sitting position, he forces his lips onto mine. I'm holding onto the cliff with one hand, just a second away from letting go and losing myself completely, when the door behind Vincente creaks and I hear a shoe scuff the stone floor.

Vincente stands up and turns around casually enough that I realize he was expecting this visitor. I squint at the large, dark silhouette of a man in the doorway. Is it one of his men? Vincente reaches into his jacket and draws his gun. I yelp as he grabs a fistful of my hair and puts the gun against my temple. "Welcome," he snarls.

It isn't until the figure speaks that I recognize Savio. He's holding a gun out, pointed right at Vincente. For a second, I'm so happy that I don't even feel the cold metal on the side of my head. Then I remember what Vincente told me. Savio has us both cornered. All it takes is two shots. Savio doesn't speak. He just stands there like a statue.

"Did you want to kill her yourself?" Vincente mocks. "I might allow that. It would be a pity if I got to her first, just like I did with everything else."

Savio spasms slightly. His expression is completely unfamiliar to me, like he stole another man's face. If I saw him walking down the street, I would get far away and never go back. "Yes," he says heavily. "I need to kill her." My heart stops.

Vincente relaxes, shoving me to the ground. "Very well. You can have her if you let me leave. Soon I'll be the only one left on your list. Too bad the family is announcing an alliance with me tonight, probably as we speak. I don't know if you'll live long enough to see the day when you can touch me."

He strolls for the door of the cell, discarding me as easily as he picked me up. Even though he disgusts me, it almost hurts. He took everything from me again and again, and it doesn't even seem to matter to him. "Enjoy," he tosses over his shoulder.

Savio takes a step toward me, tense and huge like a raging grizzly. The barrel of his gun brushes my forehead as I stare into his eyes. A fitting end to a pathetic story. Suddenly, he turns around. "Hey, Vincente." He tosses a small gold coin toward my uncle, who barely manages to catch it. Even before it lands in his palm, his entire expression changes. For the first and last time in my life, I see my uncle looking as terrified as he always made me feel. The next second, his face explodes in a gout of blood as Savio fires a shot through his head.

I'm gasping for breath as I watch Vincente's body crumple to the floor like a broken toy. When Savio turns to me, I pull away. "Please, please don't hurt me." His face is still unrecognizable with rage and hate. I stretch one of my bleeding hands toward him. As if in a dream, he reaches out slowly and takes it. I ignore the pain as I grip his fingers. "I'm so sorry about your parents. I can't imagine how much it hurt."

When he feels my touch, he shakes his head and the cloud in his eyes lifts. The Savio I remember is still distant, tangled in residual emotions, but his clear-eyed control is somewhere in there. "Wait," he murmurs, crouching in front of me. He fingers the iron shackles around my wrists, pain flitting across his face. Fumbling at Vincente's body, he finds a key ring and unchains me. His movements are frantic but gentle. When my arms fall free, he drops his gun on the ground and pulls me into his arms. I'm terrified; I don't know what's going on. But I can't help but relax as his body warms mine.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispers into my hair. "I think...I think my father is content."

I thought I couldn't cry anymore, but apparently I was wrong. I sob into his powerful shoulder as I cling to him, staring past him at Vincente's body. I can hardly stop myself from expecting him to crawl back to his feet and laugh at me. But he lies still, blood expanding in every direction across the floor.

"What did he mean?" I ask finally. "Is the mafia going to punish you for killing him?"

He smiles, painfully, like he's out of practice, and fetches a gold coin from my uncle's hand. Wiping the blood away, he hands it to me. I don't want to touch it, but I take it and weigh it in my fingers. "I was granted permission to act. Vincente didn't come to the meeting. He grew arrogant and believed he had already secured his promise, but he forfeited it in his desire to capture you."

His face collapses back into pain. He doesn't look like a confident, dangerous mafia capo. Instead, he looks like a sixteen-year-old boy who just saw his parents slaughtered in front of him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth sooner, Natalia. Hearing it from him... I wanted to tell you before I left for the meeting, but I was too much of a coward."

He tries to let go of me and retreat into himself, but I refuse to let go. If we break apart now, the only winner will be the fucking mafia that uses us as commodities, tearing us to pieces at its whim.

"I want to try again," I whisper in his ear. "Not as normal people, and not as mafia, but just as what we are."

He nods, staring tentatively into my face, as if he's ashamed of the nightmare behind his eyes. I take his face in both hands and rest our foreheads together, doing my best to absorb all of him: the Savio who wants to kill me, the Savio who risked everything to save me, and the Savio who is being torn apart in between.

"You are mine," I tell all the parts of him at once. "And I am yours."