You huff and walk away from the Don's room, walking with a tight grip clenched around the notepad along with fast, hard, moving steps.

Your driven steps take you toward your bedroom where you roughly twist open the handle and open the door and slam it shut behind you.

For a minute, you still, closing your eyes and breathe in through your nose and slowly out through your mouth.

In for five... 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... Exhale for five... 1... 2... 3... 4... 5...

Your hands balled into fists. Sheer, frustration coursed through your veins but slowly began to calm down as you exhaled. God, this family was getting to you already.

You look down and see the yellow notepad and pull it apart from your chest and examine the notes, looking down the lined paper until you see the paper wrinkled, the paper gathered around your knuckles from how tightly you were clutching on to it. You raise an eyebrow and sigh, tossing it onto the sturdy, wood oak desk that stood next to your left.

You couldn't believe it. Here you were, stuck in a house with murderers. Murderers of your brother, and probably more family members that had fallen victim to Don Cielo's hand.

You run a hand down your face. Did your father even know that Cielo even killed your brother? If so, why did he bother sending you here in the first place? You understood that you were apart of a contract, apparently, but why would your father be so willing to let you go? He had begged you to be there.

You decide that it was probably better for you to think about those problems later and deal with the situation at hand.

You look around your designated room and find it to be quite nice. To your left, lies the large oak desk with a signature cherry red leather seat under it, along with a small trash bin next to the desk. Beside the desk stood a basket, probably a place to dispose of your dirty laundry.

You turn your head and look to the middle of the room and see a full-sized bed with a white comforter contrast to that of a dark, oak, wooden headboard carved with intricate detailing. Next to the bed stood small nightstands, each with a gold lamp on top and an old phone on top of the one stand to the left.

Then, to the right of the bed against the wall stood a vanity, also matching the furniture that lied in the rest of the room, except for the gold leafing that was carved intricately into the sides of the mirror. And across from the bed was a large wooden wardrobe.

You had to hand it to the Cielo's, though. As much as you despised them, they knew how to decorate.

You turn around and look down at the suitcases that lied on the floor next to you where Angelo had promised to bring them to.

You kneel down and open up the suitcase, deciding to put your clothes away, since you would be staying here, apparently.

You move across the room with ease, putting away your clothes nicely. You were surprised you weren't throwing them into the wardrobe since you felt so frustrated at the Don and his family.

You take a hanger and drape a blouse over it when suddenly you hear a knock coming from the door.

"Hello?" You call, hanging up the shirt.

"Hey... It's Padmé. May I come in?" You hear softly, and immediately your stomach twists with regret about calling the Cielo's awful.

"Yeah, come in."

With a careful twist of the handle, the door opens with Padmé peeking through the entrance, she offers you a warm smile, her thick locks of curly brown hair move gently in front of her face, her slim figure moves inside the room with her shutting the door firmly behind her, the lock clicking.

"Hey... I just came to check up on you to see if you're alright," she says sweetly, approaching you.

You shrug, hanging up the shirt on to the rack inside of the wardrobe. You bend down to grab another one.

"I'm alright, thanks," you mutter, the bitter taste of the Don's name still hung on your tongue.

Padmé nods, her face hanging low. You take notice of this and turn to face her, looking at the woman who fiddled with her fingernails, biting the inside of her lip. She looked hesitant, but you weren't one to press on.

You turn your head back to face the wardrobe to continue.

"Wow, you have so many pretty clothes," she chuckles, looking at all of the open suitcases on to the floor. "I'm sure Mancini spoils you and your siblings."

You chuckle at that, turning your head to look at all of the clothes folded neatly in their holdings. "Yeah, he does. He has been ever since we were little. I don't really like it when he does that because I know where the money comes from... But, I must admit, it's nice."

"Hmm," she nods, pausing. She looks up at you. "Mind if I help?"

You smile, gesturing your hand to her. "Please, be my guest."

She picks up your clothes gently as if the precious fabric would rip under her touch, though you were sure it wouldn't, simply because the woman's frame was ever so small and dainty.

She approaches you and stands next to you and picks up a hanger. "Y'know... I feel the same way, about Anakin and... All of... This." She makes a gesture to the article of clothing before hanging it up.

You raise an eyebrow at her. "Sorry? Anakin?"

"Oh, yeah, Don Cielo. Sorry, I thought you knew his first name."

You turn to pick up more clothes and grab a hanger. Anakin. The name sounded pretty, rolling off the tongue nicely. It surely fits him, his appearance, anyway. You weren't sure that it really matched his personality, though.

"Ah, okay."

"Anyway," she sighs, "I knew what I was signing up for when I married him. I'm a woman in politics, so I knew I had to be secretive and careful. But... I didn't know I had to be so secretive of all of... Well, everything. The murder, the lies, the little side jobs, even protecting his friends... It's just so much."

You widen your eyes, scoffing at the amount of pressure Padmé was put on. You knew this business came with guilt and remorse, but to have to put up with it like that sounded awful.

"I'm so sorry about that," you tell her, and for a minute she meets your gaze. Soft, brown eyes lingered for a bit until she cast them down to look back down at the clothes.

"Yeah, well, comes with the marriage, I guess," She mutters. "But see, I tell him all the time about how tired I am of it, and he just apologizes quickly and says," she holds up her fingers, air quoting him, "Don't worry, I'll do better, I'll take care of everyone, don't worry," she finishes with a mocking voice and you can't help but let out a giggle.

"And then, when he does apologize, he always completes it with fancy gifts or flowers on my desk at work, or whatever," she huffs, hanging the hanger on the railing quite harshly, the metal clinking with one another. "Which is why I was tired of this. " She gestures to the fancy material.

"I get that, I do. My father would shower us in gifts all the time whenever he and my mother got into a fight to reassure us nothing bad had happened." You smile at her, hoping to reassure her feelings about being frustrated. You felt for her, you really did. This life was evil within itself, and it was nice to share a sense of morality with someone else.

She puts a hand on your shoulder. "Thank you, so much. I know that we just met, and I'm sorry for burdening you with all of these problems but it's just nice to share these feelings with someone who thinks similar to me."

"Don't worry about it, I'll be here to talk whenever you need to," you smile at her and she smiles back.

"Yeah, okay. Grazie. I appreciate that."

You nod. "Prego. "

"Okay, well, " she sighs in relief and removes her hand from your shoulder. "I'm sure the Don is waiting for me. I told him I was going to talk to you for a bit, and he's expecting me... So... "

You're about to say something but are quickly interrupted when there's a solid knock on the door.

"That's probably him," she mutters before quickly changing her down expression to a more cheerful one, plastering a smile onto her lips. "Come in!"

Sure enough, the Don reveals himself in the doorway when he opens up the door, leaving just enough room for him to stand there with his sturdy frame taking up most of the room in the doorway.

"Hey, you ready?" He asks in his smooth voice, something you found so charming earlier had now made your jaw clench.

She nods sweetly at him. "Mmm-hmm, was just coming to talk to you."

He nods and smiles softly. "Okay, good." He looks up from her and looks back at you, making eye contact briefly before turning back to Padmé. "I'll be in my office." With that and one last glance to you, he turns to leave.

Padmé sighs, her face immediately drops the act and you chuckle.

"Okay, I guess I'll see you later," she sighs, making her way to the door.

You shrug. "Yeah, see ya. "

You wave goodbye to her and she leaves, leaving you in your pile of clothes and things you needed to put away.

When you came here, you weren't necessarily shocked at Padmé's hospitality. Though you did get the feeling from her that she felt out of place, and when she told you she felt that way, you hadn't been too surprised. You thought she was simply too nice to tolerate a family of liars and sinners.

You move to unpack another suitcase, deciding to move on from the clothes to unpack some miscellaneous items, except you were interrupted when you hear a ringing.

You spin around to see the phone on the nightstand vibrating on top of its receiver.

You raise an eyebrow, wondering why in the world someone would be calling to your bedroom.

You step over the suitcases and make your way towards the phone and pick up the phone, slowly putting it up to your ear.

It was silent on the other end.

Not knowing what to say, you cautiously answer with, "Hello?"

"Bambina?"

You pull away from the phone, rolling your eyes. How did your father manage to get ahold of this number?

"...Yes?"

"Oh, thank goodness. Mancini and I want to talk to you."

You scoff. You want to interject but before you can speak you hear Mancini's gravelly voice over the phone.

"Oh yes, hello, niece."

You bite the inside of your cheek. Mancini was the last person you wanted to talk to. "Hi... Uncle..."

"We want to talk to you, about something. "

"Well, do it while I'm here because I'm not going to stay much longer," you shoot back, stressed fingers finding the chord to the phone and twisting them.

"Okay, your father and I have been talking for a while now. Much longer than you think. Prior to the contract. "

Great. Of course, they called because they wanted a favor from you.

"Go on."

"Listen... We've been tracking Cielo and his movements for awhile now. We also know that his goons aren't tracking the phone right now because they're in the middle of their dinner break, and the other group is too busy with their roles to focus on the phones."

You blinked. Tracking Cielo? Even after the contract? This was surely breaking something, especially since they knew about the phones and the schedules.

"But, to my point. We're asking, for a favor. For your brother. "

Fuck. Of course. Your hand balls around the wire and your stomach begins to fizz with anger.

"You're talking about revenge, aren't you? You know revenge won't bring him back," you snap, almost wanting to tear the chord from the phone.

"Yes, of course, " you hear a clattering on the phone and you suspect your father is on the other end now.

"Bambina, it's for your brother. Do it for him. Besides, we don't even really want you to do anything too drastic."

You huff. The brother card. He's been playing it for a while now. Family meant everything to you, despite all of your crude family history, your family meant a lot to you.

You shift your foot. "I don't know..."

"Please, listen. We just want you to spy on the Don. Give us reports. Feed into his relationship, get something out of him. We need to know more about him."

"You want me to interfere with his personal life so you can what? Get revenge?"

"Yes! Exactly."

You think back to how the Don treated you, and several others and how your brother's death went unjustified, even though a contract of peace was discussed.

"We'll give you time, bambina. We still need planning, and we need trust from the Don. You're our only way in. We've sent guys there before but they just can't do it. Now you're his secretary and--"

"Stop." You sigh. You look around the room as if to make sure no one was listening.

"I'll do it."