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C3 Chapter 2

The bag was thrown over my head again. Matteo wanted a huge face reveal. There was nothing special about me anymore. My brown skin no longer glowed with youth and happiness, my brown eyes lost that spark of mischief, love and wild excitement. My dark curls though were the same. Curly, kinky, wild and untamed. They flowed down my back to my waist, luscious and silky. My body had changed over time. From my athletic build, I gained an hourglass figure that I loved even after all the horrible things I was put through to get it...

My thoughts was interrupted by the opening of the door. I could hear someone stroll in, the steps were completely silent so I couldn't figure out the gender of the newcomer.

"Son!" Matteo cheered. That answers my suspicions.

"What do you want Matteo?" I shivered slightly at the sound of the new voice. It was very deep, velvety, dominant and the Italian accent in the words rattled my very core. The fact that he addressed his father so coldly made me slightly satisfied.

"Now son – "

"Don't call me that Matteo. You forget your place," his son interrupted. A small smile made it's way on my face under the bag. I liked him.

"Guardiamo oltre (let's look past that). I have a gift for you," there was a sound of snapping fingers before I was pulled up to stand and made to kneel in a certain place.

The bag was pulled off my head and my hair was pulled back, forcing me to look up at an Adonis reincarnation. He had midnight black hair that was short on the sides but long in the middle, some of it falling in his onyx eyes. Full pink lips, chiseled jaw that had a five o'clock shadow and deep tanned skin. He was wearing a black suit with a white shirt that had the first three buttons undone underneath, allowing some tattoos to peek through. His hands were covered in silver rings, some had black gems on them. There were tattoos on the back of his hands. The artistic swirls taunted me, I knew nothing of the full tattoo. Not if he decided to take off his shirt. Something I wouldn't be opposed to.

My weird thoughts made unwanted memories flash in my mind. I closed my eyes tightly, forcing them all out.

You are nothing so you feel nothing!

"I don't want it," I heard Matteo's son respond.

I didn't flinch, I didn't even react. I had been referred to as an object for so long, it didn't phase me. I was no longer hurt by those kinds of words. They had been told to me over and over and over again.

"That's where you flatter Vittore. You don't have to want it, you have to take it," Matteo said.

"Let me make myself clear, Matteo. I do not want some whore you bought," Matteo's son, Vittore answered in a deadly calm voice. Now that word hurt. It made terrifying memories flash in my mind. I sagged, being held up my two men as I tried not to have a panic attack. I breathed slowly. Now was not the time Dalia. You are free ok? You are out. Breathe. Breathe...

"I realise she is in fact pathetic but, she is property of our mafia. She's worth billions," I was confused at that.

"Explain," Vittore demanded.

"Well you see, she herself has a net worth of 5 million pounds but once she was handed over to me for a cheaper price, she went "missing" and became worth 55 million pounds. After her time with a trusted ally of mine, she's now worth over 2 billion euros. So Vittore, the choice on her well being is all on you. Plus, she signed some documents here making her legally yours."

My mind was swimming with the new information. Me? Worth billions? Vittore could just sell me and that could be the end of that.

"I could just sell her to the highest bidder," Vittore said proving my point.

"You could but you haven't explored what she can do. Why lose something so useful?" Matteo urged. I knew of what he spoke of. I didn't want to stay with Vittore but then again, I didn't what to be sold to some stuck-up piece of shit.

"So Vittore, what will it be. Take the girl, sell her for money or... use my little spitfire to your advantage," Matteo had gotten close to me during his banter. He run a hand down my cheek and I didn't move or flinch.

I was a statue that could move, follow orders and kill. Getting enough of my old self back to kill Matteo was going to be hard but that fucker was going to die along with everyone else who wronged me. It was then I wanted Vittore to take me. I could get close enough to his father and kill him. I found comfort in the fact that even if I did succeed, Vittore would be more than ok with his father's death.

I liked that even if I didn't like him and I never will. The phrase like father like son could be in play. I learnt to only trust those who have a certain darkness inside them, a familiar one to your own. I haven't found that person yet and I hope to God I never do.

Libre Baskerville
Gentium Book Basic
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