By the time the flush on my face has subsided, a woman brings the dinner for me.

I eat, gazing at the window. Satisfaction swells in me. I gave him what he needed while I held on to what I wanted. I also had two discoveries.

The reason behind the Mariano crime family being untouchable is they own all the businesses the Italian and Russian mafias are involved with. They simply have the best of both worlds. No other gang has this privilege. In today's world, being a mastermind in tech surely comes in handy—the Russian mafia's expertise. I can only imagine how far they're going without being traced.

Although I haven't seen any Russians other than Slava, I'm sure they are scattered around the place.

This also explains, why she was signing everything for a while. During the time her husband, Emiliano—no, Elio's father—was in prison, Elio wasn't the capo so his mother took the role.

It also justifies why she behaves like she owns the goddamned place. Because she actually does.

I pace the small room. Elio has to be around my age, definitely less than five years older than me... Dad captured his father while I was still in high school, I was around fifteen or sixteen years old... so Elio wasn't exactly at the best age of taking over such a huge and powerful mob... not to mention, even now, I dare he say he has to be on the younger side of the scale.

Men are men... egoistic assholes. When we're discussing the mafia, everything is multiplied by a hundred... So how does Elio make everyone beneath him take orders from him?

I rub my chin, squinting at the dark night.

Fear. And a few loyal fellows.

That should be it.

To prove he's worthy of being the boss of bosses, he has to be constantly trying to prove himself to others.

I frown. That's it. This is going to be his undoing.

Desperate men, doing anything to withhold their status and power, are prone to make mistakes. A man like Elio, with everything at his exposure, ought to be arrogant. Arrogant men make bigger, deadlier mistakes.

A slow smile creeps on my face.

That's it.

With the USB's help, I'll pin down his activities and find proof while monitoring his moves. A single misstep will be enough for me to start a trial and offer that misstep as proof to the court.

All the other mob bosses who are monitoring me won't figure out I'm still in possession of those pieces of information.

I'll ask for protection, even though Dad won't like the idea of having bodyguards flanking me. This time, I won't let him talk me out of it like before. It's better than being kidnapped. Again. 

I grin to myself, nodding with approval.

Once Elio is behind bars, it'll convince Dad I'm taking my job seriously by fulfilling his lifelong goal of wiping out the Mariano family.

I bite my bottom lip as I inhale a deep, shaky breath. Maybe this can be the ultimate step in letting go of my past and healing. To prove I'm no longer the weak person who used to bow down to brute force, allowing anyone to abuse me.

No. That Cerise is long gone. She has to be. Now, I'm strong, fearless, and unstoppable. I must be.

I hug myself; this is it. The answer to earning Dad's love and respect, what I've been desperately and restlessly seeking for over two decades.

Now, I have to ensure my plan works out just the way I wan-

The door flies open, and I spin in time to see a furious Elio storming inside.

"You fucking bitch," he roars.

I jump a step back, gawking at his incandescent form, with hard protruding eyes and flaring nostrils.

A tremor runs across my body as he closes the distance between us. For a moment, I'm flung back to my childhood. The familiar fear I've been struggling to flee from wraps its talons around me. Dad's younger face, raging towards the younger me, flashes before my vision. I quickly blink it away.

Elio roughly grabs my upper arm, and yanks me to himself, his dark blazing eyes setting me on fire with the intensity of his rage.

"Who the fuck you think you are?" he bellows and I shrink away.

Fear tightens the back of my throat as I stare at him with my mouth agape. The shock mingling with terror prevents my head from producing a single coherent thought.

"You are in no fucking position to take advantage. You vile being, you think with your stupid scheming, you can scatter my forces and use it as leverage, you shit for brains," he yells at my face, a vein standing out in his flushed corded neck, his fingers painfully tightening around my arm.

Dumbfounded and clueless, barely fighting the fog of terror settling over my brain I blink a few times. "W-what?"

His olive skin flushes a deeper shade of red with anger, his lips pull back, baring his teeth. If I wasn't witnessing this with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it's humanly possible to get so angry. I cower away from him as much as I can, expecting another stream of profanities.

But it never comes.

Instead, he spins and hauls me along with himself. I trip over my foot but he doesn't stop and drags me out of the room.

All his men have crowded the narrow corridor but my brain fails to take them in.

The core clenching fear seizes my muscles as a cry builds up in my throat.

With my free hand, I try to unlatch his hurtful clutch but it's useless, my clammy palm slips over his hand. My body trembles so hard I barely keep up with his long strides.

He pulls me into his room and around the loveseats. At last, he lets go of my arm and roughly turns the monitor on his desk around, showing me the screen.

"Where is the book you said the USB will be inside of?" He jabs at the screen.

I fail to register the picture on the screen. It takes my mind an unnecessarily long time to cling to the last string of staying strong, instead of breaking down right on the spot.

I focus on my rasping breathing as my heartbeat thrashes in my ears, feeling my racing pulse even on my temples as dizziness makes my knees go weak.

I blink, and inhale deeply, repeating to the small terrorized kid still living in the darkest corner of my head that I'm free from that past.

At last, I take in the picture; it's my library. Focusing comes way harder. From the corner of my eye, I note his impatience, rocking back and forth as if preparing himself for shredding me to pieces at any second.

I lick my parched lips and swallow hard. Scanning the shelves of my library repeatedly. Not once in my dazed state do I catch sight of the book I placed the USB inside of it.

"Where is it?" his voice wavers from restraining his icy rage.

My mouth slacks and my brain refuses to command my muscles to move as I gaze at the screen.

His fingers grab my upper arm and he spins me around, to face him. As he lets go, his other hand comes flying up and I flinch only to realize a beat later he's holding a black object. A gun.

He presses its cold metallic tip to my forehead, fire dancing in his wide brown eyes. "Where is it?" he booms.

I gawk at him. My insides tremble uncontrollably. I want to tell him to stop yelling, I can't think when he does that. But the orders my brain shouts at my body are too faint to affect my frozen state.

He moves closer to me and in one swift motion, grabs my upper arm again as he holds the gun against my temple. "Where is the fucking drive?" he thunders.

Where is your fucking mother? Dad's voice echoes in my head. Dad's flushed face comes to the front of my mind. The way he bent down as he shouted, the way Dad clutched my arm, just like this monster, the way he shook me as though if he rattled me enough, an answer would miraculously appear.

"Answer me or I'll fucking blow your brains out," Elio's voice distantly reaches me, getting lost in the dark hallways and corridors of my childhood home coming to life in my head. The locked doors, and hiding behind the bed or in the wardrobe from Dad, constantly tiptoeing around the house. Invariably trying to be perfect, precisely the way he wanted me to be to save myself from his wrath. Yet, never being enough.

Black dots cover my vision and my knees grow weaker. Blood rushes in my ears as it feels like a bucket of iced water is poured over me.

A warm hand grabs my shoulder, lightly shaking it. Something cool presses against my lips as incoherent distinct words are spoken around me. The object is tilted and cool wetness reaches my lips. Water. My hand instinctively moves to hold on to the glass, landing on large warm fingers.

I gulp down the cold water and slowly the haze is lifted from my mind and I realize someone is supporting my weight.

I push away the glass and straighten myself. One of the guys who took me to my room—not the one who shot Aaron—is holding the glass. His hazel eyes search my face with genuine concern, taking me by surprise.

"You okay?" he asks in his thick Italian accent and I nod feebly.

But when I turn, it dawns on me, the person holding me upright isn't that guy. It's Elio, who still has his arm around me.

Unsteadily I step away, shooting a glare at him. His face is a mask of blankness and I don't waste a second deciphering it.

I turn back to the guy, offering a weak smile. "Thank you," I mumble, my voice low and scratchy.

"Prego." He flashes a smile, putting the glass away.

I frown with confusion. Prego? Does he think I'm pregnant or something? Oh my God.

He notices my confusion, his mouth opens and closes.

Elio huffs behind my back. "He said you're welcome; ora esci dalla mia stanza."

I roll my eyes, as the guy glowers at him before shaking his head and walking out of the room. So he threw him out in Italian.

I glance at the door, the dude who shot Aaron is standing near the doorway, so is Slava and this guy joins them. A few other unfamiliar faces are crowding the space behind them.

"Where's the drive?" Elio asks, drawing my attention to himself. This time sounding way calmer but a hint of annoyance is visible in his tone.

My body is still shaking from the inside, but it's minimal enough I can overlook it. I cross my arms in front of my chest, taking a good moment to scowl at him before turning around and facing the monitor.

This time, I scan the picture with sharp eyes. My gaze jumps straight to the spot I know the thick book should be.

Frowning, I lean closer to the screen. A thin book is taking its place, one I instantly notice belongs to the pile of books I always keep on my desk.

The little sculpture is also on the wrong shelf.

"Your men didn't touch anything?" I ask, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.

"No." he shoves a hand into his pocket, leaning down to look at the screen. As if the asshole understands anything.

"Are you sure? They didn't change this figure's place?" I point at the little sculpture.

He shakes his head. "They took the picture the moment they couldn't find the book, before touching anything."

I nod and move away from his desk. "Someone has broken into my house before you guys."

"Are you sure?" He tenses, his brows drawing together, and his gaze jumping from me to the screen and back at me.

"Positive."

He rubs his face and curses under his breath. As he starts pacing the room, along the length of the library covering the entire wall behind him, I near the closest armchair and hold on to it for support.

I don't allow my brain to digest and break into the meaning of what this means. That's how thoroughly I might be fucked.

Today's been too much. Physically and emotionally, I can't handle it anymore.

The tiredness of an entire sleepless night is not helping either. I might pass out.

Elio abruptly stops in front of me, his eyes narrowing before taking the glint I've come to learn is the first giveaway of his temper worsening.

His index finger shoots out, pointing at me as he waves his fist. "It's your fucking fault."

My eyes widen and I gape at him. "My fault?" I repeat with incredulity.

"If you hadn't taken so damn long to tell me where the fucking stick was, none of this bullshit would've happened."

I ball my hands at my sides. "Oh, I'm sorry for not instantly handing over the most valuable asset of proof to a criminal," I shout. My breaths rasp in and out of me as my heart slams against my chest harder and faster.

He purses his lips. "Are you fucking happy now? You are as good as dead, so are we and the other families, and it'll all be your fault, you fuckwit."

I shake with anger, wishing I could gauge out his eyes but I stay put.

He takes a step toward me, invading my personal space. This time I don't cower away. Rage makes me brave.

"You are just like your dickhead of a father, a fucking moron, I should've killed you in the first second."

"How dare you," I yell at him.

His nostrils flare and he grabs my upper arm again. "Do not raise your voice on me," he warns in a low voice, acid in his words, venom in his eyes.

I vibrate with fury. Having him cornering me again brings forth the wild Cerise who would cross all boundaries to obtain her newfound freedom. The state of fearlessness I've hardly achieved.

I'm not that scared, helpless kid anymore. I'm not weak.

I'm strong. I'm fearless.

I will not allow anyone to make me feel like that again.

Not even the stupid boss of bosses of the mafia.

In a split second, my self-control snaps.

My free hand flies, all my might is put into the momentum of my arm, and with all my force I crash my palm on his cheek.

He staggers with the power of the impact along with surprise, letting go of my arm. Unified gasps come from behind but I can't care less about it.

Shaking with rage, I hold up my index finger at him, ignoring how my palm pricks from slapping him. "Don't you ever fucking dare touch me without my permission."

His wide brown eyes stay glued to my face, an unreadable expression taking hold of his features.

I spin on my heels and march out of the room, pushing aside his gang members as I do so, not caring how their gazes follow me.

I only focus on reaching the room, and once inside I slam the door shut behind me.

At last, the tension of the past twenty-four hours breaks loose. I lean to the door as I slide down. My body convulses as I sit on the floor and pull my legs to myself, finally freeing the fear, anger and every emotion in between that has been building up inside of me.

❈ ☯︎ ❈

Tbf, slap scenes are my favourite scenes xD In books and in movies =) yup, I'm all about the dramatics =))))

Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, vote if you did. Comment your thoughts, do you think Cerise is as good as dead or not yet? XD

Stay safe, lots of love, happy reading <3