Slava and Marco start talking simultaneously, each in their own mother tongues, while Elio sits in-between, staring at a pen.

For the first time, I feel bad for a criminal. If I was in his place my brain would've exploded.

Slava raises her voice, trying to drown out Marco and he raises his voice over her, prompting her to talk louder.

I back away, half tempted to make a run for the room they've given me.

Ironically, Elio doesn't seem to listen to either of them, just nodding away with a faraway look in his deep chestnut brown eyes.

I walk to the female statue placed at the corner of the room and gaze at her exquisitely sculpted face, vainly trying to drown out Slava and Marco's voices.

I tilt my head, studying the woman's beautiful nose, full lips, and stone eyes as if I can see the answer to all my problems.

My fingers find my necklace. 

The Mexicans entered my flat first. By default, the majority of people would save such important data on their laptops and then have a backup in a USB or a memory device.

I squint, watching the woman's fingers holding the fabric to her chest.

Contemplating all of my options until, with widening eyes, I reach a conclusion. I spin on my heels, ignoring Slava and Marco as I call out, "Elio."

His gaze snaps to me, a flicker of relief flashing across them as the other two halt, glaring at each other, then at Elio, before huffing and turning to me. Slava scowls at me while Marco seems intrigued.

"So no one, aside from you guys, knows the information has been divided. The Mexicans got there first, which means you guys are lucky because half of the information has to be in their hands. They probably picked up my laptop and one of the drives, satisfied they have the entire information, while not knowing the laptop is empty and the USB they picked up, has only half of the data. If they're not aware eight mafias must be listed, they won't even search for the other half later on."

Elio blankly stares at me, Slava's pinched expression grows harder and Marco cocks his head to one side.

In two long strides, I situate myself across Elio and continue, "When my dad enters the house, he sees the place is a mess, so he figures someone has broken into the apartment. He searches the place, probably finds one of the- uh- the only other flash drive in my house," I pause and nervously lick my dry bottom lip.

Neither Marco nor Slava seem to notice my little slip-up but unfortunately, Elio's eyes have narrowed.

Shit. 

I explain, "He assumes the previous people were a bunch of idiots for leaving behind one of the backups, not knowing the one he has found, only has half of the data." Hopefully. "So, all you guys need to do is find out who has the drive that has your gang's-" I halt when three pairs of eyes shoot daggers at me. I roll my eyes and huff, "The Fenice business's information."

"And how vill ve do zat?" Slava crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"Just wait. Don't do anything illegal for about two to three weeks, by then it should be out if my dad has your information and if he's trying to start a trial against your mo- business."

"That's not an option, that's purely stupid." Elio leans back into his seat. His dark brows are slightly furrowed, an unreadable emotion flickers behind his brown eyes.

"Then hack into the Mexican's computers." I shrug.

"We don't know which grroup 'as the sticka."

"And zat's too rrisky."

I sigh and sit on the edge of an armrest. "You'd be lucky if it's in Rodríguez's hands."

"Pietro will find that hout, then we will 'ack them." Marco smiles proudly, holding his head up as he glances at Elio.

"And what if our family's information is in your father's hands?" Elio asks, paying no heed to Marco.

Before I think of an answer, Marco says, "Trrade."

Elio and I both turn to him. From the corner of my eye, I catch Slava musing a small approving smile. Marco elaborates, "We willa rreturrn Cerrise to her padre and get the sticka."

I snort. Wow, just as I was starting to like this asshole.

It's not like I want to stay with these outlaws, but being looked at like an object to be traded is offending. On top of that, I know my dad. He will never ever agree to this trade. He'd rather they kill me than hand over that information.

If only they knew how little I mean to him... but I can't let them find that out... it might tempt them to kill me right now. At this point, I'm useless to them.

If Elio finds out there are two more USBs I've neglected to share, there won't be a force to stop him from pulling the trigger and putting at least three bullets in my skull.

Even if I somehow manage to hide this fact, what if the other mafias find out Dad has the entire data and hunt him down? And possibly kill him?

I shake my head and push away the thoughts. No, I can't lose Dad too.

Neither can I ask Elio to offer the same courtesy of protection to Dad as he has been giving me. Too much bad blood is going on between them.

"But zat is if he agrees." Slava arches an eyebrow, looking at me, as if perfectly aware he'd never agree to the trade.

"Cerrise will telll hus what to do," Marco speaks with such confidence that takes us all by surprise as he looks at me with hopeful eyes.

For a moment I have to remind myself this guy is in the mafia too, even though he's been acting the nicest towards me compared to everyone else.

The way Marco talks with Elio gives me the impression he might even be his consigliere. Then why does he trust me so much? Is he trying to manipulate me?

"Duratskiy," she mutters, clicking her tongue and shaking her head.

Marco glowers at her, planting his palm on Elio's desk. "I'm not stupido."

Oh. I gotta add that to my list of insults, definitely 'duratskiy' has a better blow than calling someone plainly 'stupid'.

Slava waves her index finger in the space between them, opening her mouth to throw another insult when Elio interrupts in a low warning tone, "Mama."

They glare at each other before Elio rises to his feet. "Both of you, out, now."

They protest in their native languages, which is getting beyond annoying. Not understanding what people around you are saying is beyond frustrating.

"Now," Elio repeats, firmer.

Marco is the first to move, nodding at me before leaving. Slava however scowls at her son before striding to me.

"You zink about betrraying me and my son, I vill empty all bullets of my gun in yourr head and ship it off to yourr papa."

I hold my ground and meet her glacial glare heads on. "Yeah, sure. 'Cause double-crossing a mob that each of its members carries at least one loaded gun at all times while being stuck with them empty-handed is the most sensible thing to do. Gee, thanks for the heads up, I wouldn't have been able to think of that."

Her nostrils flare, an instant flush of anger colors her pale skin. Too fast for my brain to register, one second, everything's normal, and the next an iron grip is latched around my throat, blocking my windpipes.

I choke and claw at her hand feebly, only making her tighten her grip.

"Talk to me in zat tone one morre time and it vill be ze last zing you everr do," she growls.

Too occupied trying to get oxygen into my system, I don't notice when Elio and Marco get to us, pull her off, and away from me.

Elio drags his mental mother a few paces away from me, keeping a firm grip on her shoulder, saying something to her in Russian, while Marco rubs my back as I cough my lungs out.

Just as I catch my breath, I screech, "You're a fucking psychopath! You unstable lunatic murderer."

In a flash, Slava pulls out her gun and Marco instantly hauls me behind himself as Elio throws his arm at his mother's wrist, shoving the gunpoint at the ceiling as she pulls the trigger.

The deafening sound of the gunshot reverberates in the room.

Holy shit!

Fucking lunatic!

Even though I'm trembling, I move past Marco to cuss her out. Right on cue Slava pushes Elio aside and holds the gun at my head's level.

Before I can get a word out Marco's fingers clamp over my mouth as Elio wrestles the pistol out of his mother's hand and throws it on his desk, glaring at both of us.

"Stop it! Both of you!"

I throw Marco's hand away and point at Slava. "She started it," I yell.

She shouts back something in Russian.

"Enough," Elio booms and turns to me. "Stop talking for one damn second."

I huff and roll my eyes, crossing my shaking arms in front of my chest, over my pounding heart.

"Mama, out, now," Elio commands, turning to his mom. From the corner of my eye, I catch her opening her mouth to argue but he throws a stern look that quiets her.

She spins on her heels and marches past me, not before saying, "I'm vatching you."

I roll my eyes again, wanting to scoff and retort back but Elio's sharp glare halts me.

He nods at Marco and with that Marco trails behind his mother and shuts the door.

"Your mother needs medical help." I grab the backrest of the nearest couch, holding myself upright as I glower at him through my lashes. "Actually, all of you mafiosos need help."

He purses his lips, and clenches his jaw as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. "I'm aware you have a habit of pushing your enemy's buttons so hard to gain leverage and get the highest outcome in the courtroom, but you need to fucking understand this is not a goddamn courtroom. No one here is handcuffed. If any of us shoots you, getting rid of your corpse won't even be a five-minute-long problem. So remember where the fuck you are and with who you're talking before you say shit."

I gasp dramatically. "Are shitting me right now?" I stride to him, placing myself an arm's length from him. "So I have to watch what I say, but your psycho of a mother can say whatever the hell she wants?"

"Yes!" he fires back so fast and with such certainty, it takes me by surprise.

"You're a fucking dickhead above being a monstrous murderer."

"Wow what a surprise," he sarcastically retorts. "But I don't give a fuck what you think about me, so you can call me whatever names you want, on top of your lungs. This is how I am, how we are. If you want to live, you better learn fast."

Our fierce glares clash together as we challenge the other to back down and look away first. We're both panting heavily and have somehow gotten closer to each other.

We break away from our staring contest at the same time. He runs his hand through his hair as I press my lips to a thin line.

"Earlier, you said we'd be lucky if the drive has fallen into the Rodríguez's hands, why do you think that?" He fixates his gaze on the wall across from us, on the female statue in the far back.

I shrug. "His second in command recently got captured."

My answer piques his interest and he faces me, raising his eyebrows with surprise. "When and for how long?"

"Two days ago, for twenty-five years."

He chuckles humorlessly. "Let me take a wild guess, you were the prosecutor."

I nod, holding my chin up. "I was."

His face turns blank. "It's fascinating how your hatred and prejudice towards us makes you utterly blind."

"Excuse me?"

"Can't you see how deep you're in shit?" He waves his hand around with exasperation before continuing, "The wound is fresh, Hector wants you dead. If the drive gets in his hand, he'll want you in return for giving us the drive."

"Oh," I mumble. I see. I am in deep shit.

Scratching my cheek, I lift a shoulder. "What's done is done, I can't change what I've done, and neither do I regret throwing that monster in jail."

He shakes his head with either disbelief or incredulity, I can't tell. Maybe it's both.

Elio inhales sharply, pushing his shoulders back, he towers over me and his hardening gaze bores into me.

Something's wrong.

"Is there a third or fourth flash drive that you've kept hidden from me?"

Shit. This is why he threw them out.

Even though my pulse is quickening again, I can't stop myself from wondering why not ask this question in front of his mom and friend?

Is he trying to protect me from them?

Doesn't their code of loyalty or whatever that ties them tighter than blood relations, come above this?

"No," I lie, though my voice tumbles out way too pitched.

His eyes narrow. "They contain the entire data, don't they?" He sighs heavily before pressing his full lips into a white slash as he leans down to me. "Did you really think you can use that information without tipping us off and not having us coming after you?" he clicks his tongue moving closer to me.

"Pray to God your father and the others don't find those. Because if they do, I'll bring hell down on you. I'll become worse than your nightmares, and make you beg me to kill you each and every second of your miserable life. Don't ever test me by putting my family's lives and my business on the line. Don't, or it'll be your last and biggest regret, Cerise Campbell."

❈ ☯︎ ❈

And now he knows she lied to him xD

Tell me what you thought about Slava and Cersie's little fight =) [I had fun writing it]

Thank you so much for reading this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it, don't forget to vote if you did and comment your thoughts ^.^

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