Broken By Mafia

Chapter 4

Z A R A

He's right, my math skills are... nonexistent.
Wait. Was that a joke? Was he teasing me?
It doesn't matter, I can't get swayed by anything right now. I need to stay focused on trying to survive if that's possible. I didn't reply to his rhetorical question, though. I stay silent, hoping he won't say anything that will make my hair rise on its ends again.

He didn't say anything. Neither did Frank.
I take my time eating the food so I can enjoy every bit because only God knows when I'll be fed again or if I'll even be fed again. I'm sure an hour passed by because Frank opens the door to, I assume, fetch me. "Get up," he orders. I stand up, feeling much more nourished and hydrated.

"Follow me," he says as he starts walking.
The moment I step into the light, my eye sockets feel like they're being burned to ashes. There are literally tears coming out because of my sensitivity to the light from being in the darkroom for so long.

"Ow..." I mumble as I rub my eyes.
I see Frank give me a side-eye. He's a lot taller, which means his steps are quicker. Keeping up with him is becoming slightly difficult. He's also very muscular... If he as much as pokes me, I might drop two floors down. Once my eyes adjust to the light, I notice my surroundings. This place is a castle, no doubt. In fact... it doesn't feel like it's a house... but I can't even tell because there's no uncovered window.

Everything is modern and each area we pass by is bigger than the last. But it's still slightly dim and dark... the vibes while walking down the halls are giving me chills...
The number of doors we passed by is too many. It's pretty much empty here, rarely any furniture. We step into an elevator and that's when I notice this was only the basement. Basement or torture chamber? I gulp. Oh, but when I finally see Frank in the elevator in full light, I almost gasp. He looks like a European Hrithik Roshan, what the—

"It's really rude to stare, lady," he says in his heavy Italian accent. "Sorry," I mumble, quickly looking down. My cheeks start heating up because I can't stop thinking about how handsome Frank is and how small this elevator is. Astagfirullah, Zara! These people will rip you into shreds, with no mercy and you're daydreaming about Frank?

The elevator dings once we reach the second floor. I guess there would've been no point in stopping on the first floor but I still wanted to check out my escape routes, if I could. I follow Frank through a wide, high-ceiling hallway until he stops in front of a huge double-doored room.

"Wait here until you're called inside," he instructs. "One wrong move and your head will be blown off, no questions asked." I gulp nervously and nod. Frank goes into the room, and I try to sneakily peek in but couldn't make anything out quick enough. A minute or two later, he comes back out to only walk past me without another word. I'm sure a couple of minutes go by and I'm starting to become slightly sore from standing in one spot.

"If I just sit down on the floor, will I be beheaded?" I think quietly out loud to myself. "I don't want to find out..." My mind started thinking about how I could escape or maybe have them let me go. Will they? Will they let me go? Why am I even here? What's the point? Alejandro said we'd never see each other and honestly, now that I see what happened to him, it would be better if we never meet again. But it's too late to wish that. It upsets me to think about how my parents are doing...

"Come in," Alejandro's voice calls out from the security system speaker outside of the door. The door opens by itself, which, I assume, is because this place is really high-tech. I slowly walk in, my eyes glued to the floor. The smell of cigarettes fills my nostrils, making me cough slightly.

"Sit down," it was more of a statement than a request.

I look up to see Alejandro sitting at a large executive-style, L-shaped desk. This room is quadruple the size of my living room! The modern, chestnut desk is placed right in the middle of the room, with a large, matching bookcase placed against the wall behind him. The room is also 90% just floor-to-ceiling windows, which are covered by curtains, keeping the room gloomy and dim, making me unable to tell what time of the day it is outside. Alejandro hasn't given me a single look since I entered, his eyes are glued entirely to his desktop screen. The darkroom isn't helping with my growing anxiety but I take a seat on one of the chairs placed in front of his desk. My hands are shaking on my lap and I don't dare to look back up.