Destined For The Mafia (18+) (3 of 3)

Chapter 21 - Power

[Cat's POV]

This close, I can see him more clearly. My eyes rake over his impossibly present features. His tight jawline. The familiar curve of his lips. His bright, deep blue eyes that entrance me into somehow believing the tricks of my own mind.

"You forgot me already, little lion?" His voice rings out, so close I can feel his breath on my lips, and my stomach turns.

"No..." I mumble as I lean back as far as I possibly can.

"It's okay. I'm here." He reaches forward for my cheek but I shake my head vehemently, twisting away as much as my restrants allow.

"No!" I yell out, louder now, more desperate. But desperate for what? For it to be a lie... or true?

"No. No. No." I repeat over and over under my breath as he stands and sighs.

"Sshh... quiet down, will you?" His tone is too passive for someone who is dead.

"You are not here," I tell him firmly. "I am imagining things."

I feel like I may hyperventilate.

A low light switches on and my eyes blink rapidly to adjust, spotting a lantern on the ground beside him. When did that get there?

He stands up from turning it on.

"Do I not look like I'm here?" He asks, turning slowly  so I can see all of him. He smirks as he does it, putting on a show, which makes my chest sink more.

"I..." I stumble over my own words in the search of anything to say to this man besides the truth... but nothing else comes. "I killed you..."

"My brother."

Now I know I'm hallucinating. I breathe out, accepting the hoax for what it is.

"No. You had no twin."

He clicks his tongue and sits down across from me in a chair that I also never heard him bring in. "If you thought I was kept secret from the world, imagine being him," he says and shrugs nonchalantly.

I don't want to think about a twin.

"Stop!" I warn him and his attention turns to me in a different way, cocking his head to the side.

"Who is Ace?" He asks and my lips press together. Why did I mention Ace? Why do I care that I did?

When I don't answer, he leans forward slightly, his smirk fading halfway. "Should I be jealous of your new friend, little lion?"

"Stop calling me that," I hiss at him and his eyes squint.

His eyes.

So blue.

So familiar.

But they can't be.

"Why?" He asks, almost as if it is a genuine question.

One that I have no good answer to that I will admit aloud or to myself.

"Because... because you are dead."

"Then how do I have this?"

He reaches in his coat and pulls out a small stuffed lion. My eyes widen.

My stuffed lion.

Stef's stuffed lion.

The same item that showed me who he truly was before, he was now using to show me who he was again. It made me wonder somewhere deep down if the former was an accident after all.