Everyone has heard of the Godfathers the definitive representation of what it is to be an Italian Mafioso, from the dusty mountainside of Sicily to the posh New York avenues.
Some choose to leave the fatherland for greener pastures; some turn the du...
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My head throbbed, each pulse like a drumbeat against my skull. I forced my eyes open, the lids heavy and reluctant. A murky haze clouded my vision, but as it cleared, the reality of my situation hit me like a punch to the gut. I wasn't in my room. This place was foreign, hostile.
I tried to sit up, but the rough rope digging into my wrists held me back. Panic flared in my chest, burning hot and wild. My breath came in short, ragged gasps. Where am I?
I scanned the room, my heart pounding in my ears. It was dark, so dark that I couldn't see anything. There wasn't a single source of light, not even the faintest glimmer to help orient myself. The blackness felt thick, oppressive, wrapping around me like a suffocating blanket.
A sound broke through the silence, a low groaning noise that sent a chill down my spine. I turned my head toward the noise, straining my eyes and ears to make sense of it. Someone else was here, another victim. The groaning continued, a pained and desperate sound. It was close, very close.
The groaning stopped for a moment, then resumed, softer this time. It was a female voice, the pain in it unmistakable.
I did hear a familiar voice right before I got kidnapped. Could it be her? The thought gave me a flicker of hope, something to cling to in the darkness.
"Veronica?" I asked, my voice tentative.
She groaned in pain, but there was a faint hint of humor when she replied, "No, my ghost."
Despite everything, I couldn't help but giggle at her reply. Her resilience, her ability to inject humor into such a terrifying situation, gave me a strange sense of calm. It was as if, by laughing in the face of fear, we could reclaim a small piece of our stolen power.
"I can't believe I got in this situation because of you," she said, her voice tinged with mock annoyance.
"Because of me? What did I do?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Nothing much. It was just your idea to give you company so that I wouldn't feel lonely alone with your kidnapper," she said dryly.
I bit my inner cheek to stop myself from laughing at her sarcastic remark. Despite the gravity of our situation, her sense of humor was unwavering. But her calm demeanor made me suspicious. She seemed to know more than she was letting on.
"Don't worry," she continued calmly. "Your brother must have noticed your disappearance by now and will be here anytime to save us."
The mention of my brother sent a jolt of hope through me. He was resourceful, determined. If anyone could find us, it was him. But something in Veronica's tone made me probe further.
"Do you know the kidnapper?" I asked, my voice cautious. I had a gut feeling she did.
"Well, I won't lie but..." Veronica's sentence was cut off as we heard a noise-a shuffling sound-coming from beyond the door. We froze, my muscles tensing instinctively. Someone was out there.
