PROLOGUE

~~Cecilia~~

“I'm pregnant.” 

The whole room fell into silence immediately at my sudden declaration, that the only sound heard was SpongeBob's voice from the TV and that of my racing heartbeat.

My parents, who had just gotten in a few minutes ago, and now sitting on our white sofa, exchanged a quick glance, surprise, and shock reflecting on their faces. 

 Alex, my sweet and innocent little brother, simply stared at me, his big brown eyes wide with curiosity, as if he understood a word I just said. But I guess he must have felt the instant drop of tension in the room.

My father spoke first, "Cecilia, What did you just say? Is this some sort of prank?'

I shook my head, “No, papa. It's the truth.”

“But Cecil you can't be pregnant,” mum rushed out, “you are a virgin aren't you?”

That was something every parent badly wants to believe about their daughters. But I'm sorry mum, I had my V card swiped in a car when I was fifteen.

However, given the situation at hand, I'm guessing that's not helpful information to share with la familia right now.

“Well, she must not be if she is pregnant. How could you?? You are just twenty years old dammit, I do not go out there, work nine to five for my daughter to throw away her future by getting pregnant!”

I flinched at his loud voice and took a few steps back, my hands tightly held together behind me.

“Oh, come on, dear. Don't be too hard on her now. Look, she's going to cry because of you.”

“You spoil her too much and look, she's pregnant now. Because she thinks she can get away with anything.”

Dad said, pointing a finger at me.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I hung my head, staring at the red carpet with blurred eyes, “I'm so sorry, papa.”

My dad sighed, but stood up and walked close to me, “Who's the father?”

I was expecting that one.

“I don't know.” I whispered, my voice shaking, though that was a lie.

I knew quite well who my baby's father is 

Blue eyes, blonde hair, talk hot, every lady's dream.

Trent.

But barely two hours ago, he had looked me in the face and called me a whore.

I don't care about your silly pregnancy. You better find something to do with that bastard in you.

“You don't know?” My father gasped, pulling me out of my thoughts, “you don't know who the father is? So what do you do? Sleep around with a thousand men? My God!”

My mother reached out and took my hand, while casting a glare at my father, “Don't worry sweetheart. Do not cry, we are here to support you, okay?”

I gave her a smile.

“Late night parties, drinking, acting like a spoiled brat, all these …we never said anything, and now she's pregnant you won't say anything too?” Dad grumbled, which earned her another glare from mum.

“It's not okay, but she is still our daughter. We will support her, won't we?” 

Mum stared at him pointedly, and he frowned.

“Yes we will.”

“Good. Come here, mia tesoro.”

She enveloped me in a bear hug and I smiled, suddenly feeling better for the first time since I looked at that test kit approximately five hours ago.

“Now,” my mom called, releasing from her embrace, “Could you grab that old photo album from the top shelf in my bedroom closet? I was going to show Alex the pictures from our first family trip before you came in.”

I nodded and made my way up the staircase to my parents' bedroom. 

The room was adorned with framed photographs and the scent of my mum's favorite perfume, as always, lingered in the air.

I walked to the closet and smiled when I saw the blue family album perched on the top shelf.

Balancing on my tiptoes, I reached for it, my fingers grazing the cool leather cover. Just as I was about to pull it down, a sudden and thunderous bang echoed through the house, making me jump in alarm. The noise was followed by hushed, urgent voices, too muffled to decipher.

Fear clawed at my chest as I clutched the photo album tightly to my chest, my heart pounding in my ears. My mind raced with thoughts of what could be happening downstairs.

 I knew something was terribly wrong.

Instinct took over, and I pressed my back against the closet's wall, my breathing shallow and controlled. I strained to listen, praying for any clue as to what was transpiring just below.

What on earth was happening?

Are we under attack?

Stay where you are, Cecilia… The part of my brain which was more reasonable than the rest of me whispered.

But call it stubbornness or stupidity, as my father is so fond of saying, I ignored that voice and tiptoed outside the room.

I stopped at the stairs, straining to hear the voices. 

My father's voice, usually so strong and reassuring, sounded strained and unsteady as he spoke.

“You're making a terrible mistake,” my father's voice quivered.

“We've got proof, Rossi. You've been playing both sides, and that's a betrayal we can't ignore.” A man shot back in an icy tone.

My heart pounded in my chest, each word slicing through me like a dagger. 

My father, the man I had always looked up to, was being accused of treachery.

“Please believe me….”

“Your greediness cost us many lives man, now you have to pay. You know what happens when you cross Don Petrov!”

Then, it happened.

The deafening gunshot pierced the air, followed by a blood-curdling scream that tore at my soul. My breath caught in my throat, and my grip on the photo album tightened so much that the edges of the leather cover dug into my palms.

A second gunshot echoed, and I could no longer contain the terror rising within me. My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a scream, my heart hammering against my ribs. Panic surged through me, threatening to overwhelm my senses.

I struggled to stay silent, to stop myself from crying out and revealing my presence. Tears welled up in my eyes as I listened helplessly to the sound of Alex's scream.

“What do we do with the little one?” One of them said,

There was a pause before the other responded, “He's too small. We should just take him along. Will definitely turn out to be an asset”

“Good. Take him to the car and I'll clear this mess up.”

Mess? What did they mean, mess?

And where did they want to take my brother?

Alex's scared scream tore through my heart, but I was immobilized by fear, and the helplessness, knowing that I couldn't do anything made me want to puke.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally summoned the courage to leave my hiding spot. Slowly and cautiously, I went further down the stairs.

I tiptoed toward the staircase, my steps careful and deliberate. The faint smell of gunpowder hung in the air, and the smell of fresh blood made my skin crawl.

Tears were still falling from my eyes.

As I descended the stairs, dread clawed at my insides. 

Definitely the men were gone. Hopefully.

But my hope was scattered when I got to the sitting room.

The two men stood there, blocking my path. Their faces were masked so that all I could see were two pairs of brown eyes.

The taller one sneered at me, his eyes filled with contempt, while the other held a smoking gun loosely at his side.

I froze in my tracks, my heart pounding in my chest. 

“Looks like we've got another Rossi,” the taller man said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

My voice quivered as I stammered, “W-what have you done to my family?”

The man with the gun chuckled darkly, his finger idly toying with the trigger. “Your dear old dad got what he deserved,” he spat out.

My shoulders sagged, and a void feeling enveloped me when I realized what just happened.

My family are gone, 

My family …they are gone.