In three days, Elio finds out the Belov clan was behind the attack in Palermo that got Ruby killed. He handed over the information to me and gave me full rein to take forth the investigation I require.

After seven days of nonstop work, from Elio's men demanding footages from highways, airports, and train stations, bank transactions, and even down to the booking of the seats the men had used for traveling to Palermo, I reached more interesting facts.

Now, with confidence, I can claim Maxim Vasiliev had direct input on the entire plan.

Meanwhile, every day I dedicated two hours to shooting, perfecting my aim with over three types of firearms. I even started using the treadmill.

Turns out, running is just as effective as standing under the shower for clearing the mind and coming up with fresh ideas.

Ever since the day I went to his room, Elio and I've been too swarmed up with work to even get the chance to have a second of privacy, let alone get to that stage.

Not that I'm complaining much. Sure, I missed his touch, but at least I got the chance to clear my head and carve into my mind nothing between Elio and me is meant to go beyond a meaningless physical relationship.

I also asked him if he can find out whether I'd been fired from my prosecution post or not.

To my great surprise, he has been keeping tabs from the very beginning, because for some reason my dad submitted a six months medical break for me about a week after my disappearance.

It frightens me, Dad might be way more involved in everything than I initially expected. 

Last night, I told Marco about Vasiliev being connected to the fight. By now I'm sure he has informed Elio. Now I must find out what's Elio's next step.

I sweep out of my room and head straight to his office. I knock once and not a beat later he tells me to enter.

To my dismay, Slava's sitting next to him behind the mahogany desk going over some files scattered everywhere. Her head snaps up, her steely blue eyes land on me, a fire of rage ignites in them, but I hold my ground and stride inside.

"Marco told me last night," Elio starts, not paying any heed to his scowling mother.

I clasp my hands and nod. "Well, what's your next move?"

He sighs dropping his pen on the desk and leaning back in his seat. Slava purses her mouth, fixing a hard glare on me. I ignore her.

"I'm still deciding. Both Vasiliev and Belov are incredibly powerful, and they've joined forces, I can't just blow up one of their warehouses or something... it has to be tactful."

I press my lips to a thin line, standing taller. "I know, but time is of the essence. They've already killed two people, who knows who's next on their hit list. We have to do something immediately. I was thinking maybe if we search to find out the precise root of the conflict, something must've provoked them to join forces and take such drastic measures. If we know what it is, we can come up with a better, more effective plan."

Elio laces his fingers together and nods solemnly. "Marco's on it. I told him to start working on it last night."

Surprised, I frown at him. "Excuse me?" He can't possibly be serious!

Instead of saying something—anything—he avoids looking at me. Slava sports a smirk as if silently daring me to react.

"Is that a polite way of kicking me out of this project?" I air quote the last part, huffing incredulously. Anger bubbling and boiling my blood.

"Yes. Now you can get out," she says in her thick Russian accent.

"I wasn't talking to you," I snap. "Elio?" I turn to him, raising my brows expectantly.

"Marco and my men will handle it from here onwards," he flatly announces.

With disbelief, I gape at him. "What the actual fuck! You used my skillsets! I did what Marco or Pietro had to dedicate their entire time to instead of getting their normal duties done. Now that the hard part is done, you're kicking me out! Without even telling me!"

"Don't rraise yourr voice," Slava growls, standing up.

I pay her no heed. "Elio!"

"I was about to tell you," he quietly says.

"When?"

"Cerise, I think it's best-"

"I don't fucking care what you think! None of your stupid men could've reached the things I got to in seven days! You said that I can be an active part of all of this mess. This shit comes back to me and affects me directly. Why are you kicking me out?"

Elio gets to his feet, pressing his hands together. "Try to understand, it's more complicated than that."

"Don't bullshit me." I retreat a step and throw a disgusted glance at Slava. "She told you to do that, didn't she?"

"I deed." She holds her chin up and saunters to me. "Know yourr place, girrl. Yourr alrready getting too much. Wis zat fazerr you have, be happy yourr alive."

I roll my eyes and cross my arms. "Enlighten me Slava, who's the capo of the Mariano clan?"

She halts in front of me, glaring.

"Exactly. I'd appreciate it if I can talk with the capo, and not the previous, deceased capo's wife."

She raises her hand, and I have to fist my hands to not flinch as her hand nears my face.

"Mama!" Elio yells, halting her. "Ty obeshchala mne." [You promised me]

Slava's hand stays up for a beat before she waves her index finger at me. "Listen to me, you suka, zis is you and yourrr papa's fault. You arre like yourr pidaras- asshole papa. If you zink we'll give you chance to rruin us, yourr wrrong. You zink I don't know you worrk wiz Vasiliev and Belov?" she snarls.

"And don't you like dragging my dad into everything and anything?" I narrow my eyes as I glower at her. "You know what the truth is Slava? You can't stand to see anyone doing better than you and your mafiosos. You feel threatened by my presence and my quality of work, that's why you're manipulating your son to kick me out, so you can hold on to your power."

I click my tongue and shake my head. "Pathetic if you ask me."

"Cerise!"

"I vill keel you," she roars.

I plaster a smile on my face. "I'll gladly jump off a cliff just to rob you of the satisfaction of killing me."

"Yobanaya suka!" [Fucking bitch] she thunders, her voice piercing my ears.

I grimace but don't back down.

She storms past me, violently pulling open a drawer.

Confused I spin around and watch her. From the corner of my eye, I catch Elio's confused face morphing into horror.

"Ma! No!" Elio rushes to her and I half expect her to pull out a gun, but instead, she twists to me, holding a thick file in her hand.

Slapping Elio's hand away she waves the file. "You see zis? You vant vorrrk? Zen vorrk. I vill destrroy yourr papa vis zis evidence, zen I vill kill him in frront of you beforre killing you. Save him if you can." She throws the file to my stunned face and flounces out of the room, slamming the door shut.

Dumfounded I gaze at the scattered papers, all spilled from the file she threw at me. Pictures of my dad, pages filled with line after line of documents, written in the smallest font possible.

Blinking multiple times, I meet Elio's wide eyes. He opens his mouth but I hold up my hand.

"You've been making up fake information to ruin my father, while you had me working for you."

"It's not what it looks like," Elio hurriedly says, taking a step toward me.

I shake my head and retreat an unsteady step. "You kick me out first, without even telling me, on top of that you've been working behind my back to destroy my father's life."

"No."

I shake my head again, my eyes falling back down on the papers. As the shock subsides, sickeningly I realize, I trusted him.

I fucking trusted him not to pull off something like this.

Hurt flares up in me. Stupid and naïve, that's what I am for trusting a man like Elio.

"Is this to keep me from coming after you? Did you make up this shit to blackmail me with?" My head snaps back up as I wave my hand at the mess.

Hurt and anger mingle together. My muscles quiver from fury as my heart pounds in my chest, blood rushing in my ears, drowning out the sound of my heavy breathing.

"No!" he exasperatedly claims, striding to me but I jump back another step, holding up my palms. "Deciding to keep you away from the rest of the work was because my men don't trust you, and the mission won't work out if you have a part in it."

"So you tossed me aside because you have no control over your men?" I snap.

He purses his mouth. "You're being mean, Cerise."

"Am I? In fact, I'm being blunt. You have no control over your men, and you're literally your mother's puppet."

"Cerise," he warns in a low tone. "I understand you're offended but you're taking it too far."

I huff a disbelieving laugh. "Offended? You fucking used me and kicked me out of a project that directly decides the length of my lifespan. And how dare you say I'm taking it too far! You're the one who has been working behind my back this entire time."

"I told you it's not what it looks like."

"Oh really? Then what the fuck is this?" I point at the paper with my dad's picture on it.

Frustrated, he releases a blow of air, running his hand through his hair. His gaze darts from one place to another, as though trying to come up with an explanation. One that doesn't exist and needs to be made up.

"Fuck you," I spit.

"It's not fake, Cerise," he says after a long moment.

I laugh. The fucking audacity of this man!

Bending, I snatch one random page and scan the line after line of made bullshit of my dad paying an astronomical amount of money to blow up some car, which resulted in three casualties, two of them sixteen-year-old girls.

I slam the paper into his chest. "You know what's real? That you're a fucking wuss, an absolute shithead, and an asshole."

He seizes the paper and throws it on his desk. "I get it you're mad, and it's fine, but you also need to understand as the boss of such a huge organization, I have to make some hard decisions, ones that you cannot comprehend why, nor should you question it."

"Of course," I mutter and retreat a step. "Shitty decisions can't be argued with."

Nodding I wave my index finger at him. "But that's not how a proper boss behaves. The truth is you're a remarkably shitty capo and nothing beyond that. The only thing you know how to do is kill. You can't even control your own men, people who are supposed to follow you with blind eyes. Even your men don't trust or believe you. Go ahead and keep on killing people as if that'll make you a better don. At the end of the day, you'll still be one of the worst capos the history of mafia has known to itself."

His expression changes, the frustration, and exasperation evaporate, and hurt flashes across his features before going completely blank. His eyes turn cold as he watches me steadily. "Get out," he says, his voice oddly devoid of any traces of feelings as he fixes his gaze on the wall across from us.

My brows pull together. Did I... hurt him?

All too suddenly, my anger dies out as I watch him with confusion slowly turning to guilt.

"Leave," he rasps.

"Elio," I start slowly, the unease churning my stomach but he cuts me off.

"You've said enough, now get out."

The door flies open, snapping my attention away from Elio. Marco and Pietro walk into the room and halt midway, taking in the mess.

Marco's face instantly clouds with worry, his gaze jumping between me and Elio.

"Pietro, accompagna Cerise nella sua stanza." [escorts Cerise to her room] Elio clenches his jaw and crosses his arms, not once sparing a glance at me.

Marco and Pietro exchange a quick bewildered glance before Pietro stands in the doorway and looks at me.

I sigh and give in, walking out of the room and waving Pietro off, not letting him tail after me as I return to my room, still confused, with my emotions all over the place.

❈ ☯︎ ❈

Four days.

After our argument, I didn't hear Elio returning to his bedroom the entire day, nor the following days. Halfway through the second day, I found out he left the house a few hours after our fight and never came back.

This time, I fucked up.

Well, technically, most of the time I'm the one screwing everything up, but this time around it's different. I fucked up bad!

Once I got a grip over myself, and overlooked the initial anger and hurt, the depth of the things I said to him sinks in.

If anyone would've said those things to me, I would've been devastated out of my mind! So far, whatever I've seen from Elio, is exactly like my life before being kidnapped.

He's always working and he literally has no life out of Cosa Nostra and his responsibility as a capo. Yet, shamelessly, I look him in the eyes and disregard his hard work and efforts with three stupid lines just because I was hurt and mad at him.

I had no right to say those things to him, especially when I know how hard he's working to keep everything moving smoothly.

I feel like shit. I'm a shitty person.

I can't help but wonder if I'm the asshole... maybe I've been the asshole from the very beginning.

No wonder why everyone leaves me and no one gives a damn about me, I'm a terrible human being, unworthy of being cared for. The first person who bothers to show minimum human decency towards me, this is how I treat him.

The guilt has been so terribly unbearable I couldn't even sleep properly and had to double my pills to put me into slumber.

From the second night, I begin bugging Marco to help me reach out to Elio. But he's been in his house, completely off-grid. Occasionally they spot him overlooking the business, doing the necessary things, but no one has been able to reach him.

I'm the worst human being alive.

How can I say all those shitty things without a care in the world! Why didn't I think for one goddamn second before opening my damn mouth?

However, I'm determined to make amends. So, after another forty-eight-hour of struggle, I convince Marco to take me to Elio's place.

It's a short drive away from the Mariano palazzo. As Marco nears the private property, the six men standing guard nod and open the gates for his matt black Lamborghini.

Driving slower, Marco enters the paved path leading to Elio's house. On both sides, bushes, cactuses, and gigantic palm trees are planted. The shape of the green area is an idle circle after the gate, on the right side, moving along the perfect view of the sea, leaving a wide berth for any car to drive in between until it reaches its garage. On the left side, the plants are all placed in a straight line.

A half-circle pool is in front of the white trapezoid-shaped two-story house, with the ceiling covered in solar panels. On the right side of the villa and pool, another green area in trapezium shape with full-grown palm trees is placed and Marco drives right past it and stops in front of the gigantic entrance doors.

Elio's modern house is such a stark contrast to his family's castle-looking mansion. Oddly though, the exterior of this place somehow feels more fitting for him.

We climb out of the car and Marco rings the doorbell.

A woman clad in an orange dress, with a black apron around her waist, and her greying hair tied into a tight bun atop her head opens the door.

Her eyes widen with delight as she beams at him, a grin stretching so wide across her wrinkled skin, it turns her eyes to slits. She pulls Marco for a hug, saying something in Italian and making him chuckle and pat her back.

She turns to me, her smile still present and wide.

"She loooks hafter Elio's place. If you needed a ride backa, just tell 'er. Hi've told everrything about you to herr, so no needa to worrry." Marco moves backward. "Gooda luck," he says with a smile and waves as he spins, shouting, "addio," over his shoulder and climbing back into his car and driving off.

"Annamu," [Let's go] the woman says, drawing my attention away from Marco's speeding car.

I shake my head and enter the house. My shoes squeak against the spotless white marble tiles. Wooden floating stairs with glass railings lead to the second floor, with its entire side having the perfect view of the pool and the sea thanks to the clear glass wall.

On the other side of the house, grey and white sofas are situated in a half-circle, an electric fireplace with the TV attached to its top juts out of the wall. Abstract arts adorn the walls, black marble concept sculptures are dotted around the place, adding a flair of personal quality to the house.

The woman points at herself. "My name, Gia," she says.

I nod and smile at her. "Cerise." I offer my hand.

Amusement glimmers in her dark eyes as she warmly smiles at me and shakes my hand.

"Chi era?" [Who was it?] Elio's voice comes from afar, making my heart race.

I turn in the direction of his voice.

He halts in the middle of the staircase, watching me with wide eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I came here to talk."

❈ ☯︎ ❈

This chapter was kinda a roller coaster =) 

I'd love to hear what you guys thought about their argument and Cerise's follow up thoughts =)

Thank you for reading this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it, vote if you did, and comment your thoughts! ^.^

Stay safe, lots of love, happy reading ♡♡♡