Chapter 3

I brushed some hair out of my face as I followed Vittore. I wanted to stop and admire the dark décor around me but I knew now wasn't the time. Vittore pushed open two dark cherry doors and we walked into a huge room. There was a big circular desk in the middle surrounded by chairs and flat screen tvs along the walls. If I didn't know any better, I would say this was a war room. Vittore moved to the head of the table and tapped it and the sleek black surface lit up. A tv in a table? Since when?

I tried to remember anything of the sort before I left four years ago but came up blank. The world really had progressed since then. I wasn't all that bad. I knew how to hack and code. Vittore ignored both his mother and I who soon decided to leave the room. She left me inside with Vittore. Not long after, the door was pushed open and a girl about Vittore's age walked in. She had long dark brown hair and brown eyes similar to my own. She was short and petite, her heart shaped face and cute button nose gave her a younger look.

"You summoned me sir," she said in a soft polite voice and puffing her chest, making her boobs pop from the pastel pink v neck t-shirt she was wearing. I hated her instantly. I could tell her attitude from afar. Snobby A class bitch.

"Take her to a room," Vittore ordered continuing to do work on the table tv thing, not even sparing us a glance.

"Which room sir?"

"Any room Alexa. Just get her out of here," Vittore answered. How polite.

Alexa turned to me and looked me up and down. Her nose scrunched in distaste for a second. There it was. "Come on," she said politely. I really didn't want to but I followed her out of the room. My hips swayed as I walked in a way that demanded attention. I wasn't doing it on purpose to get Vittore's attention or anything. It was drilled into my head to always remain in character. Always be the prey all predators sought. But little did they know I was a wolf in sheep's clothing, just waiting to pounce.

Alexa and I walked through a series of halls. We passed the same painting twice and I think she was trying to confuse me. Unfortunately for her, I had a good sense of direction and was more observant in new surroundings than she gave me credit for. We finally reached another dark cheery wood door and Alexa pushed it open before turning and walking away down the hall, a forced and weird sway in her hips. I inwardly scoffed. She must have been watching me.

Good riddance.

I entered the room and I hate to admit that I loved it. After years in the "safe house", anything was an improvement and the beautiful grey and black bedroom was definitely an improvement. I sat down on the queen sized bed with grey and black sheets. There was a nightstand next to me with a silver lamp and two extra doors. I'm guessing to a bathroom and a closet. I sighed before I grabbed the lamp and opened the back of it. I pulled out a few wires and the motherboard at the center. I stuffed both in my pockets and walked to the window. I tapped it. It must be bulletproof glass. I didn't want to risk creating commotion in case it was in fact bulletproof and wanted to break it.

This was going to be harder than I thought... but not impossible.

I walked to the door, ready to open it when I tagged on the handle and the door didn't give. I tagged on t again. Bloody hell. I was locked in. Smart move Vittore. Smart move. I guess I was stuck in this room. I looked around for anything I could use as a weapon and came out blank. They hadn't even given me something as simple as a shaver. I sighed and decided to take a shower. I stripped in the bathroom and it took me a while to understand how the different buttons and such worked but when I did I had a nice warm shower. It was weird. I was used to cold dirty water. It was all they gave us. I tried my best to forget everything in that time. I just had to enjoy this one moment. Shouldn't be hard.

I stepped out of the shower and dried out my dark curls before braiding them into two neat French braids that stopped at my back. I walked out of the bathroom, in no mood to wear the dirty clothes I just got out of. I just removed the stuff I got from the lamp from them and put them under my pillow. They would come in handy later. I searched the room for something small I could use to pick the lock. The only thing that could help was the comb. I tied my towel like a toga around me then broke of one of the teeth of the comb. I brought it to the door and after struggling for a few seconds, it swung open.

I smirked in victory before I walked down the hall. This side was weirdly deserted. I followed the sound of voices until I came across a kitchen. There were four female chefs preparing food and seven guys dressed in suits surrounding the table, including Alexa. She was laughing and flirting like a desperate ex. All the laughter and fun stopped when I walked in though. All eyes snapped to me, particularly the male eyes, looking at my towel covered body in shock and lust.

"For fuck's sake! Are you so desperate you come half naked?!" Alexa shrieked and if I had a gun I would've put two bullets in her head right there. I put my hand on my hip and gave her the look. Her cheeks reddened and she glared hard at me.

"Oh there you are," a woman said walking into the kitchen holding a bunch of folded clothes. She was pale and I could tell by her forced smile she was nervous and uneasy. "I've been looking for you. You left the room and... well never mind that. These clothes are for you. I didn't have time to put them in the room before you moved in," she explained avoiding eye contact with all my exposed mocha brown skin.

I took the clothes from her and walked out of the kitchen with my head held high. I had nothing to fear. I was new Dalia. Nothing hurt her. I looked through the clothes I was given. Sweats and hoodies, all grey. I didn't have any black to blend in shadows. Just great. I went back to my room and slipped on underwear that was hidden in the pile, a hoodie and a pair of sweat pants. The hoodie was a few sizes too big and swallowed me whole. It reminded me of the time when I was obsessed with huge hoodies. That seems like forever ago.

I was in no mood to hang around Vittore and his dark aura so I lay on my bed, putting one of the table decorations, a plastic ball of sorts, under the pillow next to me. It would be the perfect weapon. In the "safe house" I was forced to be a light sleeper. Even the smallest of movements could alert me. That is if I slept. I preferred not to leave myself vulnerable. Never again. So I stared at the door, waiting for what, I didn't know. A sign maybe. Just something.

Anything. I honestly was bored out of my mind.

It has been hours and the sun is close to rising. No one came into the room much to my disappointment. I didn't like doing nothing. I wanted to be active, distract myself from my own thoughts. I was tired of just lying here with no purpose. It was like the universe heard my cry because the door was being opened just then. Judging by the way the person is struggling with the lock, they are trying to pick it. I closed my eyes and waited.

Soon, the door was opened. I tightened my grip on the plastic ball under the pillow. I heard steps coming towards me and when I felt a hand on my back, I shot up and tackled the person to the floor. I sat in their thighs, tightening my legs to hold them in place. with my free hand, I bound theirs together and raised the plastic ball, ready to hit the person in the face. I froze when I finally looked at the person I caught.

It was a boy. He didn't look older than 16.

"Hey hey hey! No harm! I'm just here to deliver a message! Please!" he cried and I didn't believe him one bit. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"The boss sent me to get you!" he finally said. I looked at him closely. Sweat lined his brow and upper lip. His eyes couldn't meet my own and slight tremors run through his body. He was telling the truth.

I got off him and tossed the plastic ball on my bed. It would come in handy later. I pulled the boy up by his collar and nudged him out the door, to take me to his boss. He walked down the hall with me close behind and by the stiffness in his posture and the unsteadiness of his legs I could tell he wanted to turn and see whether I would jump him and try to kill him again. Lucky for him, I wasn't in that mood.

We walked a series of hallways for a long time, passing the same painting thrice. I made sure to keep note of the correct passage. Amateurs. I knew how this stuff worked. I had been through it all. We finally made it to a double light oak door that stood out in the black interior. The boy knocked in a pattern and I committed it to memory. He pushed open the door and gestured me to go in which I did.

Sitting at a polished mahogany desk, doing paperwork was none other than Vittore Martinelli himself. The door was closed behind me.

Vittore looked up at me and I tried not to shrink at the intensity of his gaze. Men like weakness, something I was trained not to show unless otherwise. He picked a stack of papers off his desk and came over to me. He handed me the papers and I looked through them. At the bottom of the paper was my signature or the one I had when I was 14. Now, I have multiple for different situations but this was my one true one, the original.

"This is the contract you signed. As you can see, the terms are clear. You were sold to Matteo for three million. Then, you became his property, hence the mafia's property. You disappeared for four years and surprisingly, he brings you back, giving you to me as a gift," Vittore explained as he circled me. "The contact says you are property of whoever Matteo had chosen to give you to."

I absorbed what he said and read through the contract myself. He was right. I now belonged to him and his mafia.

"Selling you would be easy but then again, I want to know what's so special about you. My father took millions from the mafia secretly and those were invested in a secret project he called the Jade Scythe," at that, I tried not to react. "It's you isn't it? Took me a while to figure it out but why would he invest millions in you, where were you for the last four years and why are you back?"

Truthfully, I couldn't answer the last question but I knew the answers to the rest and there was no way I was telling him anything. I remained silent. He stopped walking and was now behind me. I could feel his body heat. He was so close.

"I was hoping you wouldn't talk," he said and walked back to his desk. I felt like I could breathe once he wasn't literally breathing down on me. "I'm offering you another contract."

My attention peeked. Vittore leaned back in his chair and I couldn't help but notice how his dark aura dominated the room. There was just something about him that intrigued me. He pushed a stack of papers towards me.

"I have fewer, simpler terms. You will be my property for fifteen years. In that time, you must abide by my rules and laws of my mafia. After that, you'll be free," he said.

I picked up the contract, throwing him a side eye. I didn't trust a word he said. I read the contract for loopholes until I finally found it. A dark chuckle slipped past my lips. I slammed the contract down on the table.

"I'm not like your silly little henchmen. This contract says I'll be your property for fifteen years. Must have been a nice thought, right? To label me as property of Vittore Martinelli. It says nothing about the old contract being null. I'd still be mafia property hence once again, yours. I'm not naïve. I know the only way out of a mafia is death. I don't need your bogus contract. I'm getting out of here myself," I said my British accent thick.

My dead eyes met his cold ones in a stare down. I turned to leave the room but the door was locked. I heard Vittore get up. "Lei parla (she speaks)." He said in Italian.

I cursed in my head. Turning, I faced Vittore who had moved to stand in front of me. "You're forgetting this is my mafia. My house and of course, my rules. The new contract is no longer an option. Seems you turned that down," Vittore said darkly.

He moved closer until we were inches apart and I was not threatened at all. Think what he must, but I'd been through worse. I'd seen worse. He didn't scare me.

"Sei un uccello in una gabbia di mia creazione. Pensi di poter scappare? Certo, vai. Prova ad andartene. Le tue ali saranno tarpate prima di prendere il volo (You are a bird in a cage of my creation. Do you think you can escape? Sure, go. Try to leave. Your wings will be clipped before taking flight)."