In God We Trust [SPORADIC UPDATES]

DOS

chapter two ✗ bella

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THE AIR IN the room was heavy and dusty, smelling old and rotten when I awoke. I wasn't aware of my surroundings, my eyes were still hazy from the drugs, my wrists were tied behind my back onto a firm wooden chair. The rope bound around my skin with an aching firmness, not only keeping me in place but also irritating the flesh. My face was covered in a sheen layer of sweat, my hair sticking to my face due to the moisture, and my heart was pounding so hard I could hear my pulse in my ears.

Where was I?

Slowly, as my pupils adjusted to the darkness, I was able to make out the distinct shape of multiple men, all stood tensely in different parts of the room, watching me silently but not uttering a word. A flickering light bulb hung a few meters away from me, illuminating the area slightly, but not enough to make out distinct faces. I glared at them, tugging at the truss from around my wrists as if they'd suddenly break off and I'd become free.

It felt like there was something lodged in my throat, a great big ball of fear tucked between the airways of my trachea, making it harder and harder to breathe. My fingers were jittery and clammy behind me, my knee was bouncing with trepidation, as it always did when I was nervous. I would never admit it out loud, but truthfully, I was shaking with panic. I didn't know why I had been kidnapped, but I could only hypothesize.

I watched with a mixture of confusion and apprehension as a shadow moved forward, face now lit up by the yellow luminescence. He was tall, blonde and had bright blue eyes and sharp features. Thin lips stretched into a wicked grin, my glare caught the attention of the gun that he was clutching. "Sleeping beauty is awake," He laughed, and my eyes glowered at him. Slowly, the cold metal of the gun was pressed against my cheek as he dragged it down my face. "Sei molto bella, no?" ("You're very beautiful, aren't you?")

It suddenly clicked, "Italians." I spat. I had been fucking drugged, knocked out and kidnapped by goddamn Italians. I knew that it had something to do with my father, for the Colombian-Japanese mafia was the only thing stopping the Italian mob from prospering. They were on our tail and quickly rising in power, so they saw my family as a threat. But I didn't know what I had to do with it, after all, I was just my father's drugged up, alcoholic daughter.

"What, did you not sleep well?" He taunted, voice mocking and ridiculing. 

My teeth ground together with annoyance, "Eat shit," I bit out.

He raised the butt of the gun, his snarl hostile and angry. "Shutup, bitch." Before I could react smacked me square across the cheek with the weapon. My head turned to the side on impact, nearly snapping because of the speed. Pain erupted almost immediately, soreness promised as well as a nasty bruise. I slowly turned my head back towards him, my bloodshot eyes carrying a nasty glare. And then, me being the big fucking bitch that he had called me, I spat. I watched with satisfaction as saliva flew from my mouth and landed perfectly on his cheek. Clear and scorning, it slipped down his skin, a token of my disrespect now seared into his face.