'You know what we came for?' I throw a halfhearted glance at the four men.

Zach produces a cigarette from nowhere and takes a long puff, before opening his mouth and spewing toxic gas right onto my face.

I scowl, and wave a perfectly manicured hand in front of my face.

'Mind it, Zachary,' I growl, before proceeding swiftly to pull the cigarette off his lips and throw it to the ground.

'Hey,' Zach protests and looks remorsefully at the lone stick that is now being crushed underneath my stilettos.

I stamp on it twice for good measure, and look up at Jay. He is frowning.

'What?' I snap.

He shrugs. 'I was just wondering what made you rave like a teenager.'

Sean cocks an eyebrow. 'You are not PMSing, are you?'

I lift my hand and smack him across the head.

'I think that would be a sufficient explanation.'

I knew I was raving. I was losing it. Just one look at the illuminated mansion had me thinking of Daniele.

Normally, I was clear headed. When I had a plan, I stuck to it. I knew when to negotiate, when to compromise and when to kill. I knew what to do, and when – I am a Mafia Boss, for God's sake. But one thought about Daniele and I am reduced to a blithering idiot, a good for nothing stupido. One thought about Daniele, and I become who I really am – a adrenaline propelled twenty two year old, with no idea of what I am dealing with.

I close my eyes and my mother's words ring in my ear.

Vivere per Vendetta.

Jay extends a mask to me, which I raise to my face, tying it safely around my face. The red and gold mask goes perfectly with my dress, and by the time I get my bearings, all four of them are ready, masked.

I wrap myself around Jay, trying to give off the girlfriend vibe.

'Don't. You are choking him.' Sean grabs my hand, entwining them with Jay's. 'Much better.'

'Tone down your glare.'

'Stop looking at Jay like you are about to skewer him for BBQ.'

'Just act like a girl, would you?'

With a nod, we move in. The masquerade is in full swing, and the mansion is brimming with masked people.

At the main ballroom, we part ways, with me and Jay going off in one direction and the other three in three other directions.

I am aware of the lust filled looks I receive, and I walk with a sway, my arm fastened on Jay, like the siren I'm supposed to be tonight. Antonio had a thing for sirens, and I had to lure him to me.

Music streamed into the halls as people danced the night away with masked strangers, most of them drunk. I think of the many people who will never see the day light of tomorrow, after this party is done with. The mafia world had its perks.

Jay pulls me around so that I face him. He extends a hand and asks in a gentlemanly gesture, 'May I have this dance, pretty lady?'

Chuckling darkly, I accept his hand and do a little courtesy. 'Yes, of course, kind sir.'

Jay pulls me to him and twirls me around in time to the music. We glide to the beat in synchronicity, our steps never faltering. He spins me around, and dips me in a wide arc, before pulling me close and whispering in my ear, 'Time for your magic.'

I look at him as he pulls away, the feathers of his mask brushing my cheek. I am aware of the eyes on us, the dancing couple, and I am hyper aware of a presence – male, by the smell of the cologne – right behind me, even before he taps me on the shoulder.

I turn, making sure that my skirt billowed around me, and look at the man through dark, hooded eyes.

Standing in full stature, dressed in complete Armani elegancy, is none other than the man himself: Antonio Salvatore. He has a rugged, dark, mafia-ish aura around him. Everything about him, right from the ugly scars on his face to the ticking jaw showed that he was dangerous.

Dark, raw emotion pulses in his dark eyes, and I smirk inwardly, knowing that I am the reason.

Oh, Antonio, povero povero, you are going to be played, tesoro. You don't know that, fai?

I lean forward, as though by instinct, as if trying to reach out to him, but someone tugs on my arm and pulls me behind. Jay looms between us, playing the part of the possessive boyfriend.

'Che cosa?'

Antonio keeps his eyes locked on mine. His fingers twitch, as if he wants to pry off my mask and take a look at my face.

'Chi è lei?' Antonio's voice is hard, gruff. After all he was the loyal man, who stood by Beneventi and rose as high, in everything – power, stature, fame.

'La mia ragazza. Alessandra.'

Jay folds a protective arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his side. Antonio's eyes stray from mine, briefly, to Jay's arm on my shoulder, before meeting mine again.

Jay rubs circles onto my shoulder, and I watch Antonio stiffen. Satisfaction runs through me. I'm almost there.

A new song billows into the room. Antonio's eyes darken.

'Avrò questa danza?' he asks, his voice low.

I lean towards him, though looking at Jay as if for permission, who complies with a nod.

I take Antonio's hand, which I feel as cold and repulsive. He pulls me away from Jay and so close to him, that all I can see is the front of his shirt and all I smell is his heady cologne.

His hands skimmer around my waist, and I feel bile rise to my throat.

I have to tread safely now. This is unfamiliar territory.

I lock my eyes with him, trying to project what I thought was love and adoration through my eyes.

'Bellisimo,' I hear him murmur against my ears.

Aha.

'Ti vedo Triste,' he says.

I don't answer.

'You look so sad,' he translates. 'He not treat you well?'

I sigh. 'He is always so controlling. He lets me do nothing.'

'Sei intrappolato in una gabbia.' He bends towards me, and his lips brush mine. 'Lasciatemi liberare. I free you.'

He kisses me, and I respond with fervor. I try hard not to flinch as his tongue sweeps over my closed lips. I break away quickly and look around in fear.

Antonio grabs my chin. 'Non ti preoccupare, bellezza giovane. I keep you safe.' He takes me by the hand and pulls me away from the dancing masses, and I don't miss the dry smile on his face.

He thinks he has won. He thinks he will dispose of me after he gets what he wants, like he has done to so many girls before me.

What he does not know is that I have won already, and that I am mad as a hatter.

Heck, I kill for fun.

Antonio pulls me deeper into the labyrinth that happens to be his home. We are away from the hall, when someone bumps onto me, pushing me to the side.

'Figlio di puttana,' Antonio growls, before leveling his gaze at the man in the mask. 'Esci.'

The man shrugs and looks at me. Before he walks away, I see his eyes flash.

Quella follia. Sean.

Antonio quickens his pace, ready to get it over with. I spot another man, lounging carelessly on the wall, listening to something a woman says. His eyes are glassy, he's not paying attention. Hi gaze is focused on me, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes as he pulls out a cigarette from nowhere.

Antonio pushes me into a room. It's a bedroom, with plush cushions and a low hanging chandelier. I look at it, warily.

Grinning madly, Antonio locks the door, before taking off his coat. He throws it onto a chair.

'What are you doing?' I ask, trying to bring the element of fear into my voice.

Antonio smirks. He undoes his shirt. 'Lascia che io ti ami,' he pushes me onto the bed. 'Be mine. Just for tonight.'

I watch him take his gun out from the pockets of his pants, and place it atop the dresser.

'Now, giovane. Condursi. Behave.'

Antonio forces his mouth upon me, his hands simultaneously moving to my mask. His hands on me are too much for pride, and I let my act drop.

My survival instincts kick in, and I knee him where the sun doesn't shine. He lets out a howl of pain, and falls to the floor in a crumbling heap.

I untie the sash of my frock around my waist and tie him to the bedpost.

'No, amore,' I purr. 'I reveal who I am.'

Antonio growls and claws at the sash. I've got to act fast.

I undo my mask, and let it fall to the floor. Antonio's eyes widen.

'Alessio?' he murmurs, his voice no longer gruff. I hear the ghost of remorse, of brokenness in his voice, and I feel the anger that simmers just below my skin, rise in all its fury.

'You dare say his name, bastardo?' I say, my voice a low hiss.

'You are... you.. you...'

I raise my head, and I hold it high.

'Alessandra Fiorentino.'

Antonio lets out a groan as he recognizes who I am.

His face pales as I utter my next words, in perfect Italian, no less.

'Lo cerco vendetta per la morte di Daniele.'

He scratches at the sash, trying to free himself.

I shake my head in pity.

'I need answers, amore.'

Antonio stops struggling. He smirks, some of the color returning to his face.

'You think you can kill Arrigo?' he snorts. 'You, a pathetic girl?'

I control the anger in my voice. 'The very same girl tied you to your bed, amore.'

Antonio shakes his head. 'For now. You do the same to Arrigo? He kill you before you even touch a hair on his head.'

'You don't know me, Antonio. You should stop underestimating your opponents.'

Antonio narrows his eyes. 'You are not getting out alive. You know that, yes?'

My turn to smirk. 'As you say. You sure you are getting out alive?'

Antonio glances at me, his jaw ticking.

'What do you want?'

I answer in a beat. 'Arrigo. Where is he?'

Antonio stretches himself leisurely, as if he got all the time in this world.

'One of the powerful mafia family and you have no idea?'

I have to control the urge to stop myself from blasting his brain straight off. I reach into the secret pocket around my waist and pull out my revolver.

'Start talking, amore. We haven't got much time.'

'I don't know where Arrigo is.'

I lower my gun.

'How do I get to him?'

Antonio stretches himself. 'You want him badly, don't you?'

I grab him by his hair, and jerk his head back such that he is looking at me.

'Don't play with me, Antonio. Speak up.'

'I don't know where Arrigo is, but he's got a son.'

I click the recoils of the gun.

'Who?'

Antonio smirks up at me, staring straight into the barrel of my gun.

'Christian Beneventi. Student up at the NYU. Get him, and Arrigo come to you.'

I back up, and move away.

'Thanks, amore. I appreciate the help.'

Before I reach for the door, I turn to face him again.

'One more question, Antonio. Why?'

His face goes blank. I see a twinge of guilt, of regret, but then it is gone, masked over by a strange calm.

'He was your like your brother. How could you?'

No emotion, nothing. Antonio's face is blank as he says, 'Money before blood, Alessandra. Money before blood. Always.'

Rage, in all its red hot fury, spreads through my body. I was shaking from head to toe, my vision turning red.

It's in the flash of an eye that I cock my gun right at his head and fire, point blank.

The sound resonates through the room, and a sudden deafening silence follows. Antonio lays before me, blood streaming from his forehead, his hands till tied to the bedpost.

Someone bangs at the door.

Licking my dry lips, I untie Antonio, tucking the sash back around my waist.

The pounding continues. And then, in gruff Italian, 'Sei lì, capo?'

Shit.

I glance around the room. I spot the large, pristine windows, set high above my head. I look around for any sort of stools or chairs, but except for the large bed and the dresser, there is no other piece of furniture.

The doors creak as someone pounds onto it full force. I hope Antonio had sense to buy good quality locks.

I look around again, this time more feverishly. My eyes lock on the low lying chandelier.

Before I could thoroughly think it out, I lunge for the chandelier. I grab onto it and begin to swing back and forth, praying it won't fall off. When I have worked up a sufficient momentum, I let go in mid – swing, just enough for me to grab on to the ledge of the window.

I pull myself up, using my left hand to open the windows. A gush of the night wind greets me. I steady myself on the window sill, and look down. Nope, it's way too high.

My eyes dart to the right.

Aha. Pipes.

I slip off my stilettos, and throw them down. I reach out and grab the pipes just as the locks of the door give out. I slide my way down as fast as I could, shimmying along the length. As I touch down on the solid ground, Sean's there, swinging my stilettos around by their heels.

'I wonder what these are made of,' he muses, 'literally fell off the third floor and yet not even a scratch.'

He turns around, winks at a girl, still twirling my stilettos around his fingers.

I gesture to the make-up on his chin. 'It's gone.'

He gasps, and fusses about needing a mirror to look into. I retrieve my Bluetooth earpiece and thrust it in my ear, glancing furtively at the open windows of the third floor.

'Jay. Time we clear out.'

Jay begins giving his clear cut instructions when someone yells from a certain third floor window.

'It's her. The girl in red.'

Double Shit.

Sean stops ranting about his fate, a hard look masking his features. We break into a run, him clutching onto my dear pair of red stilettos. I turn halfway, and fire three perfect shots at the men behind us.

Okay. Whatever minus three is a lesser whatever, right?

Perfect.

The earpiece buzzes in my ear.

'The car's up and running. Get out, now.'

Okey – dokey.

I spot our black Lamborghini rushing towards us at full throttle. I glance at Sean and nod, before jumping onto him. Sean balances us out, still running, and I lock my legs around his waist. I grab his gun from the waistband of his pants and I hold them out, one arm on either side of his head, and fire simultaneous shots.

The engine roars.

'Buckle up,' Sean says, and then we are leaping mid-stride, and suddenly I find myself lying flat on Blade's lap in the back seat with Sean above me.

I push him off me, and shut the door close. Zach pivots a 180 degree turn and then hits hard on the gas, and we are off, bullets bouncing harmlessly off the glass windows.

I push my hands through my hair.

'Killing Antonio was not part of the plan, right?' Jay's voice is skeptical.

'Nope.' I reply.

Blade picks at his tie. 'What next?'

I lean back. 'NYU.'

//////

I breezed through my exams and I'm so happy!!!!

IT'S A CELEBRATORY CHAPTER, Y'ALL.

Chapter dedicated to tasting_stars. Her's is my all time favorite superhero book series. 

Speaking of superheroes, who all are excited for the Infinity War?

Coz, I sure am.

Later, alligators.