INSANITY

17 | never know

I was laying in Moretti's study, stretched across a small sofa, holding a book in between my hands. Not that I was actually reading it, Moretti had the worst taste in books.

Secretly, I enjoyed being in a room that made me feel surrounded by him when I couldn't actually be near him. The smell of the pillows, the little mess his desk was in, and the handpicked books he placed in here. I reveled in it all, shamelessly.

I felt content.

Suddenly, I began to hear a commotion in what seemed to be the main entrance. I could practically hear the stampeding of the maids and guards.

I slammed the book closed and left it behind on the cushion as I got up to inspect what the reason behind all the noise was.

Upon opening the door, I couldn't see the main source of this. The maids and butlers were all tightly circled around whatever the hell this was.

I sped up and roughly pushed past them all.

Blood, so much blood.

Santiago was covered in it. Lying on the ground, cradling his arm, which appeared to still be bleeding profusely. The guards were calling the doctor and tending to him.

I could see his lips moving but couldn't hear him over everyone else.

I bent down close to him. His frantic eyes searched all over my face.

"Santiago, what happened?" I asked as clearly as I could, my eyes scanning over him.

"T-they shot him," he said. This had been the first coherant sentence he had made.

"Who shot you?" I tried to get his attention but I could see him slipping out of consciousness.

"The man that h-hired you. W-We went to investigate him a-and they shot him."

"Who?" His eyes closed, "Who did he shoot, Santiago?" I snapped in his face to keep him awake.

"Moretti."

___

The phone rang once, then twice. Then he picked up.

"So nice to hear from you again, Darling," the distinct southern accent reared it's ugly head.

"Glad to know you haven't forgotten about me," I said sweetly into the phone.

"So what exactly is the reason for this phone call, might I ask?" He spoke.

I gripped the phone tighter in my hand.

"I thought I'd take you up on your previous offer. Seems to me like you attempted to do it yourself, but didn't finish the job."

"My offer still stands, Sweetheart," his smug voice spoke as if he had me wrapped around his finger.

"I will kill whoever you want me to," I said huskily, playing along.

The call ended.

I sighed loudly before looking over to my right.

"Was that enough time for you to track the location?" I asked one of Moretti's men whom I enlisted to help me find this man.

He smiled widely. "We got him."

___

I wasn't surprised that the address was one of the largest fucking penthouses I've ever seen. Sleazy, rich prick.

I knocked lightly on the door.

"Room service!"

The voice I knew responded from afar, "Just bring it on in."

I slowly cracked open the door, wheeling the cart in behind me. But he wasn't standing there. He was out in his hot tub on the terrace.

He didn't even look my way, assuming I was an actual maid. "You can just leave it by the door."

"Yes, Sir." I smiled darkly to myself.

I pushed the cart to the side and closed the door back, pretending to have made my exit.

I stalked towards him, very careful not to make any sounds as to alert the prey.

As soon as he was within reach, I grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed his head beneath the water so roughly that the water splashed over the sides, spilling onto the ground.

He sputtered when I lifted his head back up and yelped when he saw my face. "I-It's you!"

"Damn right it is." I dunked his head back under the water, slinging it around. I lifted it back up and he coughed and choked.

But he wasn't fighting back. Almost like he didn't know how.

And his hair was dyed and gelled.

And his hands were manicured?!

I thought this man was the one who wanted Moretti dead. But something was off. He wasn't alone.

I gripped his hair tighter. "Did you shoot Adriano Moretti?"

He yelped and pleaded, "Please no! No! They just told me to make the phone calls! They said they would do the dirty work!" He was blubbering now.

"Who?"

"I can't tell you." He said, trying to hide it.

"I shoved his face back under the water then once again yanked him back up. I was surprised the man still had hair on his head after all this.

He coughed again. "I don't know! T-They just said if I got you t-to kill him they'd give me money!" He raised his hands to show me he was "innocent"

"Pathetic." I pushed him beneath the water again.

And this time I didn't let him back up.

___

It was obvious that there was someone bigger and more powerful out for Moretti. The scariest part was, I had no idea who.

All I knew right now was that I needed to get to that hospital.

I drove recklessly, as usual.

The nurses tried to stop me from going in but they stood no chance against me.

Once I was inside his hospital room I quickly locked the door. I checked the windows to make sure they were secure and I checked the bathroom to make sure nobody was in there. He's not safe anymore.

Not like he was before anyways.

Finally, I looked at him. He was still under whatever drugs they gave him, hooked up to so many IVs and machines. It made my chest ache.

His chest was bandaged up. And his face was bruised, but still handsome. Always handsome.

We were finally alone together, like we hadn't been for so long. He hadn't spoken, or even looked at me for that matter ever since that night.

But I was looking at him now.

So I leaned down and I gently pressed my lips against his.

He would never know.