004

Cecilia's POV

“A-Assassins?” I stuttered. My eyes doubled in size.

What on earth did he mean assassins? My father would never be involved with assassins. There was no way, right?

Don Petrov stared at me, a blank expression on his face. But those eyes, they warned me not to dare him.

“Papa,” I swallowed, dropping my gaze on my hands. I clasped them together, wrenching them nervously. I could feel the heat in his gaze as I continued speaking. “Papa would never be involved with assassins,”

Tilting my face up with his hands, he cocked a brow, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Please tell me you do not think your father was a saint,”

There was a harsh edge to his voice as he spoke. My hands trembled and I held them tighter trying to hide the tremor. He was intimidating. But even more annoying was the snide way he spoke. As if I were some naive little girl who knew nothing.

"He wasn't a saint," I spat, unable to take the insult against my father. "But that doesn't make him some vicious criminal like you. My father would never move with assassins!"

"You're adorable," He chuckled darkly, tightening his grip on my chin. The hairs on the nape of my neck rose, a warning sound ringing somewhere far away. "If you think I'll believe that. Think again, pet. What do you know?"

"I don't know anything!" I cried, getting even more terrified.

It was obvious why he had spared me now. He wanted information. Information on something I had no idea about. Dad rarely talked about his job and mom had taught us never to ask questions.

Never.

To her, the less we knew, the safer for us.

Staring at the fierce gaze that currently bore down on me, I realised just how wrong those words were.

The less I knew, the more danger I was in.

Don Petrov looked like he wanted an answer and what I was saying wasn't what he was looking for.

"Think," He dictated. "Think about anything, anything at all-"

"I'm telling you-"

He shoved me away from him, rising to his feet. "I want the truth. And I always get what I want. We can do this, the hard way or the easy way, Cecilia Rossi,"

He murmured while taking a stroll around the room. The thud of his shoes against the carpeted floor sounded loud and heavy. He stopped before a mirror staring at my reflection while I stared at him.

Our eyes held and I could see the clear warning in them.

"The easy way," he announced. "You tell me what you know, and I consider not killing you. Do I need to state what the hard way is?"

No he didn't. I could hear the unspoken threat loud and clear.

My baby. My baby was in danger.

But I knew nothing.

"Please," I begged, rubbing my palms together. Tears poured down my cheeks. "I don't know anything about assassins, I swear. Dad never tells us anything. All I know is that he works as a bodyguard, I don't know anything else. Please! You have to believe me."

He turned around swiftly, taking quick long strides towards me. His hands grazed my face as he grabbed my jaw again.

For a minute, I dated to hope that he believed me. That he cared that I was hurting and decided I was telling the truth. But then his fingers dug into my jaw, threatening to crush the bones and I whimpered.

Why on earth would I lie? I had a baby to protect. I had to find Alex. I had to live. My parents were dead anyways. What would concealing any information about Dad do? It couldn't bring them back to life.

But I didn't know anything. Truly.

"I am not a man easily moved by tears, Rossi," He hissed. "Your father betrayed us all. I will not hesitate to put an end to anyone he gave life to."

"I have nothing to gain from betraying you," I cried but that earned me a look of disdain on his face.

"You have until tomorrow. Sleep on it. Think calmly. I'm sure you'll remember something," he said then grinned, leaning to whisper in ears.

My breath caught when his teeth grazed my earlobe and he pulled at it, teasing it with his tongue.

"Afterall," He rasped. "Death is merely an escape, Rossi. I own you, every inch of your soft supple skin, every curve, every sigh you make,"

"W-What are you doing?" I gasped, when he nibbled his way down my neck from my ear.

"Reminding you," He hissed. "I can either make your life as blissful as heaven itself. Or a living hell. Your choice."

And with his words hanging heavy in the air, he walked out of the room.

I fell on my back, breathing heavily. My hands grabbed at one of the pillows and hugged it close to my chest, sobbing into it.

I have until tomorrow. Tomorrow! To fess up to something that I had no knowledge about. What on earth was I supposed to do? Should I make something up? What if I made something up and he found out?

He would kill me.

...Death is merely an escape...

I sobbed harder, replaying his words in my head. No he wouldn't kill me. He would do something much worse instead.

Like getting rid of my baby? Oh God I hope not.

I had no idea how long I remained curled on the bed, crying my eyes out. I had such a happy life. A month ago, I was happy. I had an amazing family. I had a boyfriend I thought loved me. And I was loved.

Now? Now I was all alone. My parents were murdered. My brother was missing. I had a child to protect and yet I am not safe. Don Petrov would need answers tomorrow.

But I had nothing to give.

He could kill me and the whole Rossi family would perish with me. My parents's deaths would be in vain. There would be no one to avenge them.

I palmed my stomach, taking a deep breath so I could stop crying. What was crying going to solve? Nothing. Crying would nog bring my parents back or make that bastard pay.

But I could.

"I swear it Dad, mom," I whispered, clutching the pillow harder. "I'll make him pay.”