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Chapter 11

** REBEL SIMMONS POV **

"Took you long enough." I said calmly, looking at the man who was going to take my life away.

"What's your name." He said, venom lacing his every word. His voice was deep, commanding, and intimidating. This kind of voice that would normally send fear jilting throughout your entire body, but somehow, I felt at ease with my fate.

"Rebel." I stated, leaning my head back.

"You actually expect me to believe that?" He said coldly.

The fuck? Does it look like I'm in any type of position to lie about such a trivial matter?

"In what way would it benefit me in lying?" I said raising my arms and motioning to the cement hellhole surrounding us.

Judging by the way the younger man reacted to his presence before he was ordered out of the room led me to believe the head bitch in charge. Their subtle similarities indicate that they're brothers, this brute obviously being the elder of the two.

His demeanor, attitude, and personality all line up with the typical characteristics of a modern day narcissistic psychopath. Could this be Vino? I never saw a picture of him when I did my not so through research, some articles even said that no one has ever seen his face. Guess there's only one way to find out.

"For an IQ of 200, you certainly are quite dense." I said closing my eyes again to escape his deadly glare.

"How do you know who I am? Who do you work for?" He asked, his emotionless expression making it difficult to read him.

"You just confirmed who you are with that statement, Vino." I smirked with my eyes still closed. They must have been lying about his IQ in their databases.

I heard heavy steps quickly make their way across the room, gradually becoming louder with each passing second. He roughly grabbed my face with one hand, squeezing my cheeks roughly.

"You'll look at me when I'm speaking to you, ragazza." He growled, my face millimeters away from his. His masculine cologne overwhelmed my senses.

Did he seriously just call me a girl? What a prick.

The only time I've been this close in proximity with someone was when my father use to beat me. I've become a master at controlling my emotions over the years of abuse, never giving him the reaction he wanted: crying, screaming, fear. Come to think of it, I haven't felt fear in 6 years. My emotions hardly displaying from the years of constantly pushing them down into the dark abyss that is my subconscious.

"Now I'll ask you again. Who. Do. You. Work. For." He spat.

I was hoping to feel some sort of emotion before I died, hell, just to see if I was even still capable of feelings. But even with a sexy killer in my face and being locked in a torture room, I still didn't feel fear, a little bit of lust, but not fear.

"Myself." I said, completely unfazed by his threats or his closeness.

"Why did you steal from me?" He asked moving his left hand and placing it on the wall next to my head, trapping me within his muscular arms.

"Because I felt like it, ragazzino." I said, staring him in his beautiful grey eyes. He looked at me for a moment, as if analyzing something in his mind.

"You know what happens when you steal from the Vinos, no?" He asked, removing his hand from my face and running it softly down my cheek.

Such a sweet gesture before you kill me. Such a thoughtful murderer.

"Judging from my surroundings, I'd assume death. So hurry up. On with it." I stated, rolling my eyes. I've had enough of these games, and I'm ready for what's to come.

Dante smirked slightly at my words. My abnormal behavior to the situation must be amusing to him. I'm probably the most compliant victim he's ever had to kill.

He pulled out a glock from his waistband and held it in front of my face. He leaned in closer to me, his lips grazing my ear.

"Tell me, gattino, are you not afraid of death?" Dante whispered.

First he calls me a child. Now he's calling me a kitten. Couldn't he at least call me something more intimidating? I mean fuck I stole $5 million. I'd love to see a damn kitten do that.

"Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste of death but once." I whispered in his ear. My lips barely touching his ear.

When my father would beat me, or bullies would torment me, I always thought of this quote from Julius Caesar. I refused to be a victim, a coward who would shy away from hardship and turmoil and allowing others to kill them piece by piece until there is nothing left. Forever going through the motion of being alive but internally are already dead.

I always found a way to survive whatever was thrown at me, and conquer it. Even if it is a bullet between the eyes... I'd rather own that shit then spend my last breaths cowering in fear.

"Never would have taken you as a Shakespeare kind of girl." Dante said standing up, his gun still pointed at my head. Handsome and intelligent... and a murderer, can't forget that attribute.

"What can I say, he has a way with words." I shrugged. This banter with him is starting to get annoying. I tilted my head forward, my forehead leaning against the tip of the cold metal of the gun.

"Now if you'd please do the honors. I have a date with death, and it's rather rude to be late for such an important occasion." I said rather impatiently. I looked up into his grey eyes. Admiring the last sight I will see before I get sent to the fiery gates of hell. At least God gave me a good view before I left this world for good.

His lip slightly twitched upward, as if he was fighting a smile that was threatening his lips. I couldn't distinguish if he was excited to put me out of my misery, or if he found my attitude towards death humorous.

He cocked my gun back as his finger started to press down on the trigger.I closed my eyes and patiently awaited death, thinking of all the fuckers who I would come back and haunt once I'm dead.

The door of the room burst open, causing a groan to escape my lips. I've already come to terms with my demise, why can't it just happen already.

"Dante! What the fuck is wrong with you! I told you not to hurt her!" A familiar voice screamed, her accent echoing against the concrete. My eyes are still closed as I heard heels quickly walk across the hard floor.

"Zia I-" Dante exclaimed. I felt the cold metal of the gun lift off my forehead.

I opened my eyes to see Giana Jones smacking Dante Vino upside the head like a disobedient child.