Death And Love Poems (2) Mafia Romance

24. Cat litter

Karyme

"Don't move, kitty cat, or I will splatter your blood all over this marble floor." Stefano's voice is a low but furious whisper. 

He is not supposed to be here. He is certainly not supposed to have a weapon in here.

"Do you want me to come with you, bad boy?" I gasp a bravado. It's certainly one because I am pissing my pants. I bit way more than I can chew. I am going to fucking die.

"Well yes, kittycat, so we can finish what we started but now I will know better. Last time you tricked me."

"Why trick you? You were the one selling me the illusion of an impending passionate encounter and I went out with nothing."

Stefano grabs my arm violently and presses me harder against him.

"I found cameras in my study. I thought you are only fucking Aziz, not spying for him," he hisses.

So he thinks Aziz made me. Interesting.

"And now he sent you in here all alone. What a bad call. Now his kitty cat will die."

"You are right. Aziz is a cat person. How did you guess? And I thought you were not invited to this party?" I am scanning the room for Natalia or her husband, or anybody that can help me out of this.

"I made the old devil change his mind. Because I am so very charming. Now walk."

"But where to, my love? Can we have another threesome? This time with Aziz, please. Like that, you can show him your dick is bigger."

"Walk, Karyme."

"Oh, you know my real name. How cute."

"Walk!"

An unexpected wave of whispers goes through the crowd. I completely forgot about Lorenzo and whatever he was doing, out of oblivious reasons.

We both turn our heads to the stage he stands on.

My heart skips a beat and Stefano's hand clenches undescribably hard on my arm, while the blade in his other hand trembles. He whispers something under his breath but I can't pay attention to him.

How the hell is this possible? Is that really him? He is supposed to be dead.

Marco's eyes are on the murmuring crowd but judging by his expression he doesn't see anybody but looks through everyone.

His hair is long now, almost reaching his chin and he has grown a beard. He is a bit slimmer and paler but the most striking difference is his facial expression; all warmth is drained from it. He is alive but he is not the same guy I met a year ago. Or he never was what I believed him to be. What we believed him to be.

And what?... Stefano loses patience and presses a cloth over my mouth. My body goes limp in seconds.

When I wake up I am in a bed.

Still drowsy, I look around. There are bars at the small window.  It is rather high up, which means that this is likely a basement.

I am not tied up so I walk to the door. It's of course locked. The next stop is the window. The surroundings are familiar and it makes sense for them to be. I am in Sicily.

Screaming is just futile. So I wait. And think. And think and wait.

Marco is alive. But if he is alive what the hell did I see? Was that picture a joke? Damn Photoshop? Stefano was at the damn party. So, what the fuck?!

Is Roxi with him? Did I do all this in vain? Did I endanger my life because I am just crazy? I don't think so. That would not explain the long absence that was noted by the press and the damn photo.