Mafia's Obsession [18+]

18.

Sofia

"There you are. I rarely saw you these days." My mom greets me with a kiss on the cheek as soon as I step a foot in her gallery. I think it's been more than a week since the last time I saw her. She's unaware I ran away out of country days ago after all.

"Ezio imprisons me." My tone is serious while my eyes glance at Franco who hovers at the background. Mom follows my gaze and chuckles.

"I see."

"You're not worried?" I ask incredulously, walking by her side as we pass some new artworks in display.

"You can take care of yourself." She waves her hand dismissively.

"Seriously, Mom?" I almost whine. Though I don't know why I need her on my side. It's not like she can do anything about it. Women like us don't belong in crime world. The only influence she has is probably in this elite society.

We take seats on the bench overlooking the large surrealists painting. It's so fascinating to look at. "Did you try to leave him?" she asks, not taking her eyes off the art in front of us.

"Yeah. It didn't end well apparently." I huff in frustration.

"He must be in love, then." She teases.

"He's not." I interject. He said so himself. The man denied it.

Mom eyes me skeptically. "Well, his actions define it."

"It's not important to me." I say, wanting her to drop the horror topic. Talking about love makes me shudder. Especially when it involves him.

"What do you mean it's not?" she frowns, crossing her legs and turning to face me. "You hold power over powerful man, Sofia." She continues as if she's trying to put some sense into me.

"I don't care about it." I roll my eyes.

"Start to." She tells blatantly. "Before you know it, you can pull his strings as you like." The second I register her words, the more I know it's too good to be true. No way in hell I can control the devil. What does it make me?

"I doubt—"

"Power is a dangerous thing to have." She cuts me off. "You need to learn it sooner or later." My mom is rarely getting serious over men talk, but her eyes now tell me she is.

"I have no influence over him, Mom." I argue. I don't even dare to dream about it. I am not special.

For him, women are replaceable. People are replaceable. And he probably tells himself that having feelings will make him weak. He looks like that type of man.

"You underestimate yourself." She says with such confidence. Like I'm a fool to say those words at the first place. Like I don't realize my potential. She must be high again.

"You don't know him." I sigh exasperatedly. "He's insane. Like psych ward insane. He's also mean, heartless, selfish—"

"So, you messed with him, huh?" her eyebrow raises knowingly. I wonder what she'd say if she knew about my failed attempt to escape. Or my escalated violent tendency. And how he kept me in the cold basement. God, she'd definitely freak out.

"It was inevitable. I needed to get away from him." I reason.

"You seem to like him at first." She points out. I don't know what she indicates. Probably our first date. Not that I told her about it, rumors have circulated since that day. The society very likely labels us as power couple now. "But as soon as he shows interest, you flee." She continues.

"He's not showing interest, Mom. He's showing unhealthy obsession." I correct her. She needs to distinguish the difference.

"The point is he will do everything in his power to win you over." She concludes.