Entangled With the Mafia

Revelation

×BLAKE×

I sat on the hood of Saint's car while he spoke with two men.
They stood further away, so I wasn't able to hear them very well.
Not that I cared enough to pay attention. He was discussing a deal, which meant criminal activity.
The less I heard, the better.
Growing up, I got into a lot of trouble. I was a troubled kid, after all.
When I took over the bar, I slowed down. I wanted a normal life.
I wanted a life that I knew couldn't be taken from my because of doing something stupid.
I had a loud mouth, and took no crap. But this? This was another ball game.
The De Luca's were something else.
This sort of crime and danger was something I never would have wanted any connection with.
And yet, here I was. Thrown into the mess without any say in the matter.
I looked over at Saint, he had his arms crossed over his chest, his tanned biceps straining under his long sleeve shirt.
Is finding your captor attractive the start of stockholme syndrome?
As if he knew I was checking him out, he turned his head slightly to smirk at me before turning away again.
I made a mental note to get therapy once I got out of this mess.
Finding Santino sexually attractive made me wonder what was wrong with me.
Clearly, there was a lot to unpack.
Suddenly he turned away from the men and stalked back toward me.
"Are you done? Can I go sleep now?" Trying ti be placid was more exhausting than I thought it would be.
Keeping up a false pretense had never been something I could do for very long.
"Almost."
I groaned loudly, "Santino, I need to eat and sleep."
"We'll stop for brunch."
"Can I sleep in the car? Lock me in, I don't care. I just need to sleep."
"No." He roughly pulled me off the hood of his car, "Don't sit on the car."
I rolled my eyes, "Then don't drag me around to your meetings."
He got into the car with a scowl on his face.
With a sigh, I joined him, "Don't forget, you promised me food."
He mumbled something under his breath as he started the engine. He sped out onto the road.
"This would all be over if you stopped carting me around," I clapped my hands together for emphasis, "Or better yet, let me go!"
He turned his head to me with a lazy grin, "That's not going to happen."
"Watch the road!" I snapped. The last thing I wanted was to end up dead because of his reckless driving.
His tongue darted out, running over his bottom lip, "What's wrong? Are you scared to die?"
I held his gaze.
He was testing me. And my ego would never allow me to back down.
My heart raced in my chest, through the corner of my eye I could see how fast everything was moving around us.
I'm going to die because of my fucking ego.
He grinned, willing me to back down.
And I did.
I turned my head away, "You're fucking crazy."
He laughed before turning his attention back to the road ahead.
"I'll teach you not to fear death, little rose. That's a promise."
It sounds more like a fucking threat.
So why the hell were my insides turning in all the best ways?
Help, Blake. You need serious help.
"No wonder Jordan never lasted in your life. He's too boring, isn't he?" Santino asked suddenly.
I turned to him slowly, "Excuse me? How do you know how long our relationship has lasted?"
"I've done my research. I know everything there is to know about you."
My skin crawled at his words, "Stalker, much?"
He smirked again, "Raised as orphan, jumping from foster to foster," he feigned sadness, "Poor, Blake. But you got lucky with that bar, didn't you?"
"I worked my ass off for that bar. There was no luck involved." I snapped angrily.
"Laying on your back for an old geezer is work?"
As his words left his mouth, something snapped inside of me.
I screamed in anger and attacked him. Slapping and scratching at his face. I ignored his voice as he shouted and swore at me.
He swerved and the car came to a stop.
He spun to me grabbing my wrists in his hand, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"You don't know a damn thing about me! How dare you assume?! Fuck you!" I screamed. I didn't realize I had been crying until I saw the look on his face and felt the moisture on my cheeks.
His brows knit together tightly, "How did you get the bar, Blake?"
My chest began to heave, "Let go of me."
"Why did you attack me? Did I strike a nerve?"
"No." Yes. Only not for the reason he thought.
He narrowed his eyes, "According to my research, you prostituted yourself to him in exchange for the bar."
"That isn't what happened." I turned my eyes down. This was not a conversation I wanted to have with Saint.
"Tell me what happened, Blake."
"No."
"We will stay here until you fucking speak!" He shouted.
I turned my eyes back to his, wishing I could kill him with a look.
"He kidnapped me. He kept me locked in a basement for months. Assaulted me daily," I swallowed the lump in my throat, "And then he gave me to his son. A psycho who couldn't find a woman who wanted him," I scoffed, "The bar was a family business. So when I pushed dear old dad down the stairs, I took it. I forged his signature." I hated speaking about what I went through. Only Lizzy knew the truth about thw bar.
And speaking about it now left me feeling vulnerable and too exposed.
Saint's hands tightened on my wrists, "Did you kill him?"
"Yes." There was no point lying now.
"And his son?"
I shrugged a shoulder, "I don't know. He wasn't there, and he never came after me. I guess he was scared I'd turn him in."
"Give me a name."
I frowned, "What?"
"The son, I want his name, Blake."
"I don't know."
He pulled painfully on my wrists, "Don't lie to me."
"He didn't have his father's name! I don't know what his real name was. He called himself 'Master'. That's all I know."
"Description. Last known location."
"Blond hair. Green eyes. Tall."
"Where did they keep you?"
"A house. Not far from the bar."
He let go of my wrists and I leaned back in my seat. There was a growing pit in my stomach.
Stupid! Why would you tell him?
I shut my eyes, willing my mind to shut the fuck up.
"What did they do to you?"
"I don't want to relive this," I opened my eyes, "Why do you care, anyway?"
He remained silent for a moment, "I don't."
There was something behind his words that I couldn't read.
But I had the feeling that it wasn't good.