Chapter 6: Antonio's Loyalty
I was pacing back and forth in the brooding shadows of my opulent prison chamber when the door creaked open, unleashing a gust of cold air that sent a shiver down my spine. He stood there, Antonio, a towering fortress of muscle and ink, his bald head reflecting the meager light that dared penetrate this place.
"Stop that damn pacing, you're gonna wear a groove into the floor," he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest, which was more like a steel barricade.
"Hah, you care about the flooring in this place?" I scoffed, trying to rub away the goosebumps on my arms. "Where's that sensitive interior decorator side when dealing with kidnapped teenagers, huh?"
"Don't get clever with me, girlie. I'm not the one you need to worry about." Antonio's eyes were like drill bits, boring straight through me.
Taking a deep breath, I decided to try reason. "Look, I just-", but my words faltered as the door slammed shut behind him.
"Save it. Your sweet talk ain't gonna work on me." His voice was a low rumble, the kind that signaled a threatening storm.
"But why? Why does it have to be this way? Why does Vincent-Mr. Russo, have to keep me here?" I implored, my plea echoing off the barren walls.
"'Cause the boss wants ya here. And what the boss wants, the boss gets. End of story." Antonio's stance was unyielding.
"But what about what I want? Doesn't that matter?" My voice trembled with a mix of fear and desperation.
"I ain't paid to care 'bout what you want. You're Bosses latest shiny toy, and he ain't the type to share or let go." His bluntness slapped me across the face.
I swallowed the growing lump in my throat. "What good is loyalty if it chains you to cruelty?"
"Ha! You think this is about good or bad?" Antonio laughed, a sound that bounced mockingly around us. "It's about survival, doll. His world? It's eat or be eaten, and I plan to dine well for a long, long time."
There was a pause, which hung heavy between us, the air thick with things unspoken. His laughter died into a smirk. "Feel free to scream; no one out there will bother listenin'."
"Funny, I thought a big, bad guy like you would prefer the silent type," I retorted, my spirit reigniting with a defiant blaze.
"Nah, I like a bit of spirit," he said with a wolfish grin, "Makes the inevitable break all the more satisfying."
I turned away from his gaze, clenching my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. "You won't break me," I muttered, more to myself than to him.
Antonio took a step closer, his sheer size engulfing my space. "I don't need to break you. That's a pleasure I'm leavin' for Mr. Russo. But if you step outta line..." He cracked his knuckles, an orchestra of warning.
"Why?" I finally managed to whisper, the word a tiny rebellion against the fear that coiled in my stomach.
"Why what?" He played dumb.
"Why are you so loyal to him?" I turned, summoning courage like a shield.
Antonio's face twisted into a grimace. "That man gave me everything. Power. Respect. Fear from all who see me. What's not to be loyal 'bout?"
"But at what cost?" I pressed. "At the cost of others' misery? Their freedom?"
"We all got a job to do, sweetheart," Antonio said as he took one final glance over his shoulder before striding towards the door. "Some of us pluck the wings off butterflies...and some get their wings plucked."
The door slammed shut, and I was left once more in the stale solitude. Tears run down my face as Antonio's words echoing in my mind like a twisted nursery rhyme. What an insanely mixed-up world where a terrifying thug like Antonio could talk about plucking butterflies.
His loyalty, unshakeable as the concrete walls around me, was the fortress I had to breach. But how could I possibly shatter the loyalty of a man who lived in the shadow of a maniac? A maniac who had decided that I was the butterfly he desperately wanted to pin to his macabre collection.
I just wanna go home.
