Bloodlines and Bullets

eleven

"If you keep acting like a slut, I think I have just the job for you in one of my nightclubs." His voice is low, barely more than a whisper, but each word is laced with venom. He leans in, his face inches from mine. "There's a fine line between bravery and stupidity."

He straightens, his eyes locking onto mine once more. The cold intensity in his stare is unwavering, making my skin prickle with unease. He tilts his head slightly, his gaze narrowing as if calculating his next move. For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of us, the room's noise fading into the background. His eyes bore into mine, and I can feel the weight of his silent promise of retribution. Then, with a final, scathing look, he turns on his heel and walks away, his posture rigid with suppressed rage.

I exhale a breath I didn't realize I was holding, my hands trembling slightly as I turn back to my dessert. The room slowly comes back into focus, and I'm left with the unsettling realization that I've poked a bear far more dangerous than I ever imagined. Turning on my heel, I stride confidently back to the table, though my legs feel like they might give out at any moment. Each step is a battle to maintain my composure, the encounter with him replaying in my mind. His words cut deep, the threat behind them a cold reminder of the power he holds over me.

Back at the table, I take my seat with an air of forced confidence, my heart still pounding. I can feel the eyes of Sofia and George on me, their curiosity and concern palpable.

"Quite the showdown you had there," Sofia remarks, her voice a mix of admiration and caution.

I force a smile, my mind racing. He's an asshole. But I refrain from voicing it out loud. After all, he's their Don, and I won't mistake their kindness towards me for anything else. They are loyal to him, and I don't particularly plan on jeopardizing my already slim chances of escape.

"Just keeping things interesting," I reply with a wink, trying to mask the fear that still grips me. My hands tremble slightly as I reach for my glass of water, taking a sip to steady myself. The cool liquid does little to soothe the storm inside me.

"You guys act weird around each other. What's your deal?" Marco asks curiously.

"He's an... interesting character," I respond cautiously, choosing my words with care. "We've had one... rather memorable first encounter."

Their curiosity is piqued, and they lean in slightly, their expressions eager for more information. "Memorable encounter?" Marco presses.

"Let's just say it wasn't exactly a friendly meeting. Well, it was in the beginning, but then it turned into something else," I explain, carefully steering clear of specifics. "Long story short, I didn't exactly volunteer to end up here."

"I wondered why you were with Rosalia," George adds, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Yeah, she seems to be my babysitter to make sure I don't make a move to escape again," I say with a wry smile, trying to mask the unease still churning inside me. The room's warmth and the soft hum of conversation barely reach me as I keep my gaze steady.

It's not that I think Rosalia could stop me if I tried; her kindness makes the idea of breaking free under her watch, and her greeting the blame for it, feel almost treacherous. Smart move. What a fucking smart move from him!

"Again?" Sofia's voice breaks through, her eyes widening in genuine surprise.

"That was you? A couple days ago?" George asks, his expression a mix of shock and curiosity.

Sofia's laughter erupts suddenly, loud and infectious. It fills the room, drawing curious glances from nearby tables. She leans forward, her eyes alight with mischief and amusement.