three

What a sad excuse of a security system Don Russo has. Seriously, only fifty guards? And he holds himself in such high regard? That’s just embarrassing. It didn’t take me more than thirty minutes to deal with all of them.

I watched the last guy take his last breath, his tear-filled eyes staring up at me before life evaporated them. The stench of his blood and the blood of his colleagues filled the air, and I had the sudden urge to throw up. I looked behind me to find the long hallway littered with corpses, and a shudder ran up my spine.

Turning back on the gruesome scene, I stepped out of the fairly large mansion and into the windy night. I doubt it has been up to five hours since I was kidnapped and I was already free. A part of me wanted to go back inside and look for Don Russo and do what my mother hasn't done in the five years since he became a nuisance to us. But I had no desire to do so.

They say you are at your best when you do what you love, but I did not like taking the lives of my fellow humans. Actually, I hated it. Even though I did it so effortlessly, I have never been able to forget the faces of the people I killed. Their eyes were filled with so much fear and the flash of regret before they finally took their last breath. I had that image of each and every one of my victims.

Most people believed I was a monster like my mother, but that was far from the truth. I had a conscience, I felt remorse. But I also had an incredibly fast drive and a will to live. The men I had just slaughtered wouldn’t have waited a second wasting a bullet in my skull; they knew I was dangerous. I lived in a kill or be killed world, and I swore to myself that I would never be the latter.

The mansion was surrounded by nothing but trees, and I knew it would be a long walk before I got anywhere near the city. From my calculations, I should still be in Sicily. I was still in my mother’s territory.

Don Russo really was a fool.

I give this place at least an hour before it goes up in flames, burning every single person and thing in it to the ground. But I wasn’t going to stick around for that long. I knew eluding my mother was an impossible mission, but I had to try. I needed to get a taste of life without the scent of blood in the air.

A spine-chilling thunder resonated from the sky, and soon, little drops of water began to cascade down my skin. I tilted my head skywards and smiled at the grey clouds. My gaze shifted to my hands, and I frowned at the red liquid that stained them. I balled them into a fist, and I could feel my determination heighten.

Never again.

I took off my black stilettos and threw them as far as I could. My bare feet made contact with the wet dirt, and I began my journey into the pouring forest. I walked for what I believed to be a good hour before my eyes finally caught sight of the city lights twinkling in the distance. At this point, I was already soaked from head to toe. My midnight black hair stuck to my back and neck while my dress clung to my body like a second skin. It was already fitted, but thanks to the rain, it was even more so.

My feet might as well have been in need of medical attention, but it was in no way comparable to my face. I had just escaped three hours of torture, so my upper body took the most damage. Yet, I urged myself forward. As I neared the beautiful city, my vision only worsened, and my head began to pound. I was now swaying in my steps, and I did not miss the way some passerby looked at me with worrisome expressions. To be honest, I appeared to have just escaped the fiery depths of hell. My eyes scanned the shops and offices I passed, and I realized only one thing.

Don Russo wasn’t as foolish as I thought he was.

I wasn’t in Sicily. I was in Rome.

At least that was what the numerous signs I passed said. A loud grumble filled my ears, and it did not take long for me to realize that it was from my stomach. I was so hungry.

It felt like I had lost sensation in my legs because before I knew it, my ass was meeting the wet pavement, my back made contact with the wall behind me, and I stared at the road ahead. I had only one good eye, and even with the rain washing away the blood on my body, my vision was still tinted with red.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good time to escape my life. I don’t even know where to go from here. I had no friends; I had no life outside the four walls my mother caged me in. I was an expert in the drug world, but here I had no idea of what to do. Maybe I should just go home. My mother made me memorize the numbers of some of her drug dealers in case I ever got lost in any part of Italy.

This was Rome, so I am guessing I should call Allen. But where do I get a phone?

Ugh! This was so hard, there aren’t even any servants around to help me search for a damn phone. I was all on my own.

"You shouldn’t be out here, you know?"

My eyes snapped up to align with a pair of striking amber orbs. My breath caught in my lungs and I felt as though I was about to pass out. But I couldn’t tell if it was from hunger or this man’s perfection. He was at least six feet taller than my seated figure and had the physique of a basketball player. He was tall yet not too muscular; he was skinny but fit. His ginger hair stuck to his forehead like glue, while his amber orbs felt stuck to my grey ones.

I did not know how long I had been staring at him, but I could tell he was getting impatient. Wait, did he ask me something? I couldn’t remember. I have never spoken to a man this gorgeous before. None of the guards back home were this captivating, nor were the numerous dons and dealers I have met with. They all had something dangerous about them, although I was the most intimidating of them. At least that’s what I have always been told.

This man was innocent.

Too innocent.

His eyes scanned my body, but it wasn’t in a lustful way. He was worried. I was barefooted and covered in blood and bruises after all.

The young man did not say anything, and before I knew it, he was crouching down beside me and placing his arms beneath my knees and mid-back. I knew I should probably protest, but I was feeling so weak, and his eyes with their razor sharp jawline were a sight I couldn't take my gaze away from. He brought me into the shop behind me, and it soon struck me that it was no shop at all. It was a café. It was practically empty though. It was dimly lit, and the thick scent of coffee and pizza hung in the air.

It was a strange mixture, but it was oddly comforting.

He sat me down on a high stool facing the counter and said, "Wait here," before going around the counter and disappearing behind the door. I laid my head on the counter and shut my eyes. My head was so foggy, I just wanted to sleep.

A small box was dropped beside me, and my head was gently picked up. I was met with the same striking pair of amber eyes and I found myself going immobile. But I couldn’t tell if it was from my growing hunger or the fact that he had that effect on me. His eyes were hard as he opened the box and took out a small cotton bulb. He dipped it in spirit and began to dab it on my bleeding eye and temple.

My eyelids grew heavier and I felt my body succumbing to the darkness. Was I really going to leave myself completely defenseless with a man I knew nothing about?

"What’s your name?" he asked before blowing the top of my head softly. The cool air sent a chill through my body and it felt so good.

"Eleanor, what’s yours?" I managed to ask. My body was slowly leaning into his and black dots began to taint my vision.

"Dante."

"Dante," I repeated. The name was so smooth and slick. I liked it. A lot.

"Don’t worry, Eleanor. You’re safe now. "

For the first time that night, the smile on my lips was genuine. That’s when it all went dark.