Vittoria

30. Tragedy

We're tearing through the streets in one of Theodore's guarded trucks, heavily armed and cloaked in the shadows.

Theodore's driver is taking us to where he's got the American captive. Back at the house Theodore mentioned having possibly discovered some information. Is it their territory, Gagliardi himself, or the chilling possibility of finding my family's lifeless bodies?

The air thickens with suspense as we barrel forward, the engine's hum adding a dark rhythm to my unfolding panic.

As my thoughts spiral in a chaotic dance, I imagine finding my family.

Stepping into the dimly lit room, the sight that greets me is one of pure despair.

In the corner of the room, sprawled across the cold floor, are the lifeless bodies of Mama, Papa, Romano, and Emilio. Panic arises within me, and my heart pounds in sync with the gruesome scene before me. Zarina's absence casts an ominous void, intensifying the nightmare. The room becomes a silent witness to the tragic demise of my family, a twisted picture permanently marked in my brain.

""Vittoria!" Theodore's resonant voice jolts me from my nightmare.

I realize that my entire body is quivering, tears streaming down my flushed cheeks in silence. "Yes," I respond, my voice barely a whisper in the heavy air.

"We're here, let's go." Theodore starts to release his seatbelt.

I take a moment to steady my breath, observing as Theo exits the car, and turns away from the door.

"Calm down," I murmur to myself.

They're okay.

Undoing my seatbelt, I join Theodore at the car's front.

Amidst the desolation of nowhere, an abandoned building stood as a relic of forgotten time.

Its windows shattered, walls adorned with graffiti, and the air thick with an eerie stillness. Behind the crumbling bricks and shattered glass, the abandoned building concealed the secrets of one of Theodore's many hideouts.

"Where are we?" I ask him as he leads me towards the broken door.

"Don't worry about it, you need to focus," is all he says.

Focus? "What am I focusing on?"

"He's been repeating your name, asking for you." Theodore's lips are pressed into a fine line. Anger radiating off of his body.

Walking into the building I'm surprised to see a sleek black door on the far back wall.

So out of place in the crumbling room.

Theodore inputs a code on a small keypad to the right of the door. Gradually, the door creaks open, unveiling a steep, winding stairwell that leads into nothing but darkness.

"Follow me," he says curtly as his quickly descends the stairwell.

Following closely behind, shadows coil around my thoughts as if my past was trying to tell me a secret. My footsteps echo through the emptiness, each creak of the worn steps resonating with uncertainty.

As the room unveils itself, the dim light reveals a solitary figure, bound to a chair, a captive of the shadows. Five of Theodore's men line the room's border, each discreetly armed with a single handgun holstered at their waist. My gaze fixates on the man, an inexplicable pull tugging at the edges of my consciousness.

Why is his presence giving me such a sense of uncertainty?

My steps, shaky yet resolute, carry me closer to the man, his face covered by a filthy cloth, a mystery shrouded in the dimness. I muster the courage to question him, my voice a blend of determination and anxiety. "Who are you?" I ask, the words hanging in the air like a veil of anticipation.

In the hushed stillness, his only reply pierces through – my own name, "Vittoria." A chill races down my spine, the echoes of familiarity intertwining with the mystery of this confined soul. Uncertainty lingers, but an unspoken connection binds us in the hushed secrecy of the room.

I stare at the bound man, my eyes narrowing with suspicion. "How do you know my name?" I question, a trace of apprehension in my voice. 

The room falls into an uneasy silence, awaiting his response.

"You don't remember me?" He sounds devastated.

Remember you? Who the hell is this?

My cautious steps, echo through the terrifying silence. As I reach him, I hesitate for a moment.

Who could this be?

I slowly unravel the dirty cloth veiling his head. My breath catches in my throat when I recognize the face that emerges.

Shock and terror grip me as I stare into eyes that once held familiarity but now seem haunted by time and the unknown.

"Do you know this man Tori?" I hear Theodore's concerned voice in the background.

Panic claws at me, tightening its grip as the realization sinks in.

"Charlo," I struggle.

He's working with the Americans—the very ones who kidnapped my family, the ones relentlessly pursuing me. My breath quickens, and a suffocating wave of anxiety washes over me.

How is he alive? Where has he been all these years? Why is he on the other side?

I frantically recall the past two years, realizing the silence that followed Charlo's disappearance from my life. Questions swarm my mind, each one intensifying the storm of panic building within me. The air thickens as the room spins with the weight of unanswered queries, leaving me caught between disbelief and the unsettling truth unfolding before my eyes.

Relief flickers in Charlo's eyes as he sees recognition in mine. "Vittoria, please," he pleads, desperation thickening his American accent.
"I have nothing to do with this. You have to believe me." His words hang in the air, a desperate plea for understanding.

The room feels charged with tension as I grapple with the conflicting emotions of recognizing a familiar face and the harsh reality of his plea.

Shocked and confused, I turn to Theodore, my eyes searching for answers. "Where did you find him?" I demand, my voice shaky with a mix of disbelief and urgency. "What does he have to do with all of this?"

Theodore hesitates, his expression revealing no emotion.

"Who is he, Tori?" Theodore inquires, his gaze fixed on me. "Why do you look so confused? How do you know this man?" His questions cut through the air, demanding explanations I'm not sure I'm ready to provide.

Fear and uncertainty grip me as I muster the courage to speak. "Charlo," I begin, my voice trembling, "he's... my ex-boyfriend." My eyes burn into the ground as I can't bear to look Theodore in the eyes.

My admission hangs in the air, a revelation that adds another layer of complexity to the already tense atmosphere in the room.

I slowly lift my gaze to Theodore's face, and my heart sinks at the anger etched across his features. His eyes flicker with a sinister emotion that I can't quite decipher. The uncertainty leaves me paralyzed with fear, unable to discern his true feelings or intentions.

A chilling thought lingers – he might hurt Charlo.

An even darker realization enters my mind; the possibility of him hurting me.