Stella Romilly's pov I sat at my dressing table staring at the mirror. I combed my brown hair backward and tied it tightly at the back of my head. I applied concealer on all of my blemishes and pimples that had started to appear out of nowhere. I grabbed my brightest shade of pink lipstick and applied it, pouting for added effect. I dipped my mascara multiple times into the pouch of black liquid before grazing it against my eyes. I turned myself on the chair I sat on and got up. I walked over to the curtains of my room and gushed it open allowing sunlight to fill in and bless my pale skin. I threw my white morning coat on the bed and searched my closet for a dress. I ended up picking a long white fitting dress. It was a halter dress with an open chest. I brushed off the folded parts on the linen and adjusted it watching how the slit when down to the surface of my breasts. I threw my long deep brown coat and paired it with matching deep brown stilettos. It seemed so long since I ha
Antonio Dante's povI sipped tea as Lisa paced in my office scrambling for files. She stopped to look at me then continued skimming.“What are you searching for?” I asked, smiling. She bent down to pick a paper from the floor and then moved to fix it back in a file. “Evidence.”“Evidence?” I almost laughed.Her hands went over to her head and she started pulling her hair. “Don't!” I gasped. She paused, not even paying attention to me as she picked a box from my drawer. “Don't pull your hair, Lisa. It's gonna fall out.”Her mind was in a haze and she dropped her hands in surrender only to heed what I said then she continued.“Lisa, you need to calm down.”She blew her hair off her face, staring at me annoyingly. “I wonder how you are calm.”Her pupils darted around as she spoke, trying to navigate where the invisible piece of evidence was. “There is no evidence here,” I stated, putting my cup on the side table. Only then, did she listen.“What?”“We don't do evidences. We are n
Stella Romilly's povPastSome truths are meant to be kept. For if lies can create chaos, what can truths with many letters do?It was my first day at school.It was my third school that month. I was always hoping for a change. A fresh start. A new life. For my past was nothing but an unending trauma which I had no hope of curbing.I fastened my little backpack on my back and walked into the school. I looked around. At the bright compounds. The green grass. The happiness felt in the air. Parents with their children. And I wondered.I wondered. Where was mine?I scanned the place and spotted the door where the apparent teacher stood, waving at the parents and guiding the kids in. I walked to that place and queued up, awaiting my turn. I saw how the bags of the kids were removed. Bags that contained lunch. And I wondered.I wondered. Where was mine?The faces of the kids were creased with joy. At the fact that they get to be in school to see their friends and have fun. I was me
Stella Romilly's pov I parked my car somewhere in the shadows before getting out. I came out to take in fresh air and let my thoughts fly away in the meantime. I was wearing a mauve-coloured no-shoulder top with baggy black jeans held by silver belt chains. My shoes were black and I had stripped myself of all the jewelry I had on me. They were too heavy for fun. The heavy thumps of my shoes made their way in front of the club. The cold air blew on my bare chest and I immediately regretted wearing such a top. I was hit with blasts of music as I entered. The disco lights, familiar. I scrolled through the chaotic dancing bodies to the bar. The place I sat at earlier was empty so I sat there. My elbows rested on the table as I searched for someone. Someone with dark hair and green eyes. Dark hair and green eyes. Where was Michael? My eyes darted around the bar. I tried to see the furthest side but all I was met with was a bunch of clinking glasses and sounds of drinks being poured. S
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO,Antonio Dante's pov,“Antonio.”“Antonio.” “Antonio.”My father is part of the mafia.My father is a Mafia.A boss. A Mafia Boss.“Open the door,” I might have been behaving like a child locking myself in the room but I needed time to think. “Antonio, please."My father is a murderer.“Antonio, please let me explain.”He kills people.“Please open the door.”For business.It was my mother's voice. Begging me to open the door. So she can explain. Explain what?What exactly? That my father didn't mean to be in a Mafia?Or that he didn't mean to kill people? I was angry at her. Angry at her for keeping this to herself. Angry at myself. Because I kept being stupid. And foolish.I was in no mood for sympathy from the pleas that came out of her mouth. I was worried that I was this calm. I sat on the bed, then got up. I paced the length of the room before deciding against my best wishes. My hand found its way to the knob of the door and I twisted it open.
Antonio Dante's povFIFTEEN YEARS AGO, The air suddenly became too heavy to breathe. My vision was blurred and I was sure my mother's was too. I watched as she carefully located the chair beside her and sat on it. As if she couldn't support herself. I saw the muscles moving, indicating a persistent swallowing.I slowly sat on the bed, opposite the chair and rested my arms on my thighs, waiting for her to speak. She pressed her lips together and looked down. “My father wasn't part of the Mafia,” she explained. “In fact, he was the opposite,” she voiced. “He was a police officer.”She fell back on her chair as if exhausted. “He hated the idea of killing people and murdering innocent beings.”“Like you,” she whispered, smiling towards me. I had never met my grandfather from my mother's side but I liked him already. He seemed good.“He even led the officers towards investigating crimes committed by mafia groups.”She smiled sadly. “I was a grown woman by then, ready to venture into
Stella Romilly's pov,PastSaying sorry is a selfish thing to do. You are doing that to relieve yourself of guilt. But what of the person who has been torn apart? Hannah was not like the other kids who snickered and laughed when I walked by.She was the nicest person I had ever met. She had volunteered to sit by me at lunch and guide me through my first days at school. We sat in the dining area. I opposite her. Her with food. Me with a space. “Here,” she said, pushing her full lunch box to me. I could smell the sausages and rice from where I sat. My stomach growled and my mouth watered.“Let's share,” she said.I looked at the food timidly, feeling guilty. “You don't have to be nice to me you know” I stated. She may have been forced into this but I would rather a genuine heart. She looked confused. Tilting her head to one side, she asked me.“Why?”I was startled by her question. “What?”“Why do you think I shouldn't be nice to you?” She poured, the redness on her cheeks prominent.
Antonio Dante's pov,Lisa entered my office holding a pale blue file. She looked grim as she tossed it on the side table. Her blonde hair scattered all over her face in waves. She sat on the sofa tiredly. “What's this?” I asked as I left the office chair for the side table area. “What an unexpected ally,” Lisa muttered, rubbing her eyes.“It's the evidence of transactions that Liam has had to convince them to join him.”I moved to the pale blue file, picked it up, and opened it. GENOVESE PARCAFISWritten boldly on the letters.“What a pathetic fool,” I said through the papers I had gone through, eyes moving faster than my brain could register.Lisa arose and approached me. “Don't look at this,” she whispered pointing at the huge GENOVESE written. She swiped off some papers, going through them quickly. I stared at the sharp contrast her red nails made with the white sheets.When she found it, she directed my attention to it. Her expression fell grim again and I looked at the pa
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO,Antonio Dante's pov,After a few days in the care center, I was sent to my room. It was fair to say that I was still traumatized. I could barely eat. I couldn't talk. I kept looking at the floor convincing myself that it wasn't blood laced.That no blood was here and I was safe. Safe. I stared at the clock when the short hand hit twelve in the morning then twelve in the afternoon then twelve the next morning. I refused to leave the bed not quite familiar with the environment around me now. That my mother and father were this brutal. I hated my father now. And I was sure I was starting to hate my mother too. Today was different. I was lying on the bed as usual and staring at the ceiling, thinking of nothing. A knock interrupted my blankness and I turned to stare at the door. Who could it be? My mum? Or dad? They hadn't come to see me ever since I entered my room which made my hatred justifiable. "Who is it?" I called over forgetting my door was soundproof. My voice
Stella Romilly's pov,"Hi," my voice croaked poorly, and even worse my voice was too small to reach her ears. Probably. I saw her. I saw her. Her gaze was low. Too low."Beer for Miss," she settled the beer bottle on the table and then a side glance. Her eyes were locked onto mine. I froze. I couldn't feel my face. Her non-existent wrinkles deepened. I tried again."Hi," I cleared my throat. She was the first to break eye contact. Her gaze fixed on something in particular for some reason. Then her eyes rolled around."I will take my leave now," her smile was so forced, I could tell she knew I knew it was forced. She came into view now, sharp and clear. I could see her tears jungle in her eyes as she poised herself. Her hair served as a shield and she turned away from me."Samantha," I whispered. It's been days, weeks, months, years. Times have passed since I met her. and while I should be feeling the dread of meeting her. All I felt was relief: relief and excitement.I stood up from
Stella Romilly's pov,Samantha, Samantha.Samantha, I'm so sorry. I wasn't in my right mind.Of course, you were!You were in your fucking right mind!I swear I never intended for this to happen but- A pause.I'm sorry Samantha.You are a bitch Stella! You are a fucking bitch. I will never forgive you.Listen to me, Samantha. Shut the fuck up! You. All of you! You all are!You all are fucking liars! Big fucking liars! I swear Samantha.Stop lying Stella. I beg of you. You did this. Don't convince me otherwise.It's not what it looks like.Then what? What do you think it is? What do you expect me to believe? That you are holding a knife because you want to? That you are fucking holding a gun because you want to? Tell me. I don't want to... Samantha, I just-Cut that bull shit Stella!It's all because of you! I didn't kill-Yes, you did. Are you blind?I said I didn't! Don't you get it? Fuck you, Stella. Spare me those damn lies. Spare me.Spare me.Spare the fuck me, Stella!
Antonio Dante's pov,"I never knew you could show your face here Antonio.""Given all the disgrace you have had to face.""So pitiful. I pity you."I sat at a table in the center of the living room with Marco on my opposite side.I studied his eyes and facial features which were becoming more prominent as he grew. He was becoming more resemblable.Light hair. Dark eyes. I turned to Lisa who hadn't said anything throughout my meetings but still held her face strong and passive like How any mafia would."Don't waste your pity on me, Marco.""And why should I not?"My eyeballs switched to his face, eyeing him momentarily. His black suit was adapted to his arrogant posture and his mask, long gone...I considered him for a while before putting both my hands on the table and giving him my full attention."Why should you not?" I repeated."How about because I just don't like it?"He squinted his face in disapproval."Not enough.""Because I can kill you?""Not a chance.""I have footage of y
Antonio Dante's pov,We descended the staircase painted pink by light, glasses of champagne in our hands. We had arrived in the rooms with many people. Supposably Mafia leaders. We took off our masks."You're welcome Dante," a voice boomed throughout the crowd and I immediately knew it was.Light brown hair. Dark eyesLucius.Leader of The Marcos.A person I knew so well. A person I was so shocked to find out he was related. Well, not anymore."I see you haven't changed a bit Marco," I noted, sipping my wine."How can I?" he phased.I watched as he approached me. Parcafi had an astonished look on his face. I spotted Genovese who was sitting at one corner enjoying the scene."I thought maybe. Just maybe your wife's death might have saddened you," I waited to see a change in his expression but his face was solid, a constant smile lingered.He tilted his head towards me"And I see you've divorced your loving wife who can barely cope with your absence." It struck my heart deep and despit
Antonio Dante's pov,FIFTEEN YEARS AGO,My head wouldn't stop spinning. My voice seemed to rise octaves high as I watched those lifeless eyes stare back at me. I didn't know how or when I stumbled and fell on one of the bodies. Darkness consumed me thereafter. “Antonio! Antonio!”My mother's sounds became distant and faded. And I was moving further away from her into the black world. —---“Is he awake?”“Give me a few minutes.”“Calm down.”I heard voices but I couldn't decipher who it belonged to. There was a slight ringing in my ear. My eyes were blurry and as much as I tried to open them to see clearly, they wouldn't.So I decided to use my voice instead. I made a slight hum and hoped it was loud enough. It was.Two faces sprang up from opposite sides of me.“Oh gracious, he's awake!"“He's awake!”One blonde on my right. The other brunette on my left. I instantly recognized them.The brown and blue eyes were starting to come into focus.I moved on the bed, trying to adjust m
Antonio Dante's pov,Mafia is taking your time. Mafia is smart. Mafia is about being calculative. Mafia is chess. It is about selling drugs. Selling weapons. Getting debts. And most of all, fighting your enemy. An enemy is made when he poses a fight to demolish you. No mafia wants a competing mafia. No mafia wants another mafia. A Mafia wants to be the one and only. We get rich this way. In the underworld. While we keep a clean surface on top. A nobody surface. I broke the nobody on the surface rule of conduct. I'd become a billionaire on the surface and a billionaire in the underworld. And I was yet to see the person who would point it out for me. Mafia is NOT a game. And once you are in it, you can't escape. And if you want to, We kill you. But that's not all. We all have our superiors. In particular situations like Blackmail War Money The safe way out if you don't want any of these is alliance. Alliance. By marriage Sacrifice Ch
Stella Romilly's pov,Past.I stood there while I listened to my mom’s scolding. Telling me I messed everything up.“I'm sorry to intervene but she was abused.”My teacher stretched the last part ‘abused’ to hint to my mother that it was a problem. But my mother was far from listening to her. “Go.”She grabbed my hand.“Go tell them you were lying.”“That you hurt yourself.”“Go tell them,” She was about to lead me to what I would presume was the police station when my teacher fully intervened. “No. She isn't going anywhere,” she said sternly grabbing my other hand and pulling it back. “Your child has been abused and the offender has been put behind bars. I don't know why you keep telling her to lie but I won't tolerate you traumatizing her any further.”Flower blossomed in my heart and I felt full. I had never experienced this kind of love from my teacher. Was this what they called motherly love?It was nice. My mother turned towards my teacher and stared at her deep into her s
Antonio Dante's pov. FIFTEEN YEARS AGO,There was a knock that interrupted my thoughts. From atop the staircases, there was shuffling of chains. Clinking of metals. A loud noise that could be heard even from the basement I thought was soundproof. A pair of blue eyes peeked, her dark brown hair falling behind. My mother. “Antonio?”No answer. I just sat there, stunned by how long she took to see me. “Antonio, are you there?”The window had cast a shadow on me camouflaging me completely.“Ant-”“I'm here.”She jumped, startled. I saw her clear her throat as a way of composing herself before gently making her way inside. “Took you long enough huh?” I muttered. She closed the door and opened it immediately. Her face scrunched up as she shakily descended scanning around. “I'm sorry Antonio. Your father won't let me see yo- goodness what's that smell?”She looked into the darkness as she placed her hands over her nose tightly, contemplating whether she should breathe. I couldn't