Fiery Revenge⎪✓

91

☀︎

"Why aren't you dead?" I question, restraining the tremble that hopelessly wants to leave my lips. The old Eloisa wants to come to the surface, this huge reminder of my past life has me staggered to my core. 

"I wasn't killed," He answers maliciously and I aim my gun at him.

"Don't fuck with me, I'm this fucking close to murdering my own blood."

"Great choice of word, my dear, because that's exactly what I did. Carlos Romano was an excellent friend of mine, we worked together on selling drugs and women for years before the incident. So much money in that shit, I'm telling you," He declares arrogantly, my blood runs cold by what he just said. "Carlos suggested we staged a slaughter of an entire family, of our family. Your mother found out about the drugs and women, she wanted a divorce and I couldn't support it."

"You're sick," I whisper, the urgency to get away from him increasing, but my mind needs the information.

"So that's what we did. Carlos barged in one night and we pretended to quarrel in front of your mother, he shot her and shot some random member of the mafia who posed as me. After that, Carlos finished Giovanni as well," The unimportance on his voice has me appalled, he is so fucking twisted in the head. 

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"Honey, it was your 22nd birthday, I'm a monster but I'm not insensitive," That makes zero fucking sense. "Carlos and I have been working together these past few years. You have no clue the influence I have, or had, before your mafia came and massacred my rink of dealers. Now, we've been lurking here and I've really been looking forward to having you in on this project of mine. A daddy-daughter duo."

"I'll never work with you," I spit at him. "I saw your dead body outside the house that night, how can you be alive?"

He laughs at this, it's a laugh that comes straight from the stomach out of pure amusement, "You were so panicked and screamed, all movie-like. But you were only hugging Giovanni to you, he was your only priority. It was dark as shit and then you called the cops, who were under my authority. I threatened their respective families, so the cops went along with my story and left the case open. They told you what you needed to know."

My mind is whirling with the actuality of things, I can't wrap my head around it. The pounding intensifies and I grip the wall next to me, demanding to ground myself somehow. My father killed my family, he killed my mom, he killed my baby brother. 

"What about the letter?" I challenge him, the letter where he apologized for being kind of distant because of work, he also mentioned something about being associated with some sketchy people. It appeared to be a letter that I would've received whether he died at the age of 40 or the age of 87. 

"Staged as well. I'm the complete mastermind behind everything, the letter was the cherry on top, getting you on some lead towards Mr. Romano, trying to mess with your mind just to get some enjoyment from the situation, you know?" The laughter erupts up to his throat again, he is nothing like the man he once was. 

"How did you lure Xavier in here?" Questions upon questions move in my painful mind, nothing makes sense anymore, absolutely nothing. The mentioning of Xavier has an image flickering in my mind, him bleeding out on the ground and looking at me with such finality in his stare. 

He was willing to die for me. 

"That one was smooth, he was walking down the street after a meeting and I feigned a rape in an alley. Brakido and he came running and then we overpowered them and grabbed all of their weapons," The pride bothers me, he is a vile human being. "Also, when you attacked the underground rink, I paid a random dealer to pose as being Dracona, claiming to be a Martinelli. He did with no hesitancy, not even once recognizing the possibility of you killing him."

"Why did you do all of this?" My voice is hardly above a whisper, tears stream down my face by the thought of what he dragged my mom and brother through. 

"I was bored, Eloisa," He ridicules. "The family life, with kids, a wife, work, it wasn't me. It never was."

"You could've left us! Mom would've cared for us better than you ever could," My words are sharp and rage reaches over his features. 

"Do not speak to your father like that!" He explodes through the warehouse, attempting to stand and failing because of the gunshot wound in his leg. "You will stay and you will work under me."

"You're fucking delusional," I scoff humorlessly. "Mentally unstable, crazed, thoroughly mad! I will never work for you. I'm my own person and you murdered my family. The only thing I require to do in regards to you is to murder you to avenge them."

His enraged eyes cut to my bloodied hand, "What happened there?"

"None of your business."

"Was it Xavier?" He questions with joyfulness. 

"No. Xavier isn't a despicable rat," I mock. 

This hits something in him and he grabs a knife from his jacket, thrusting it towards me, it grounds into my stomach. When it pierces my skin, a gasp leaves my lips at the suddenness of the situation. The breath is completely knocked out of me, and I drop to the ground, scraping the skin on my knees open against the cemented floor. 

He smirks at me and limps closer, my body is already damaged after the fight, and cutting myself took a toll on me. He has the upper hand here. I find myself hoping for Marc to show up right now, Maxon will kill me judging by the violent gaze behind his eyes. 

A stranger strides into our line of sight and my father claps his hands together, "How excellent to see you here! This is my daughter who I've been telling you about."

The stranger smirks at me, his eyes traveling up and down my frame multiple times, "She's hot."

"Eloi, this is the closest thing I have to a son," Maxon states boastfully, my eyes flutter shut from my body draining from consciousness. My father steps towards the stranger again, "I'll allow you a test run, she's been corrupted by the Italian mafia leader. You can show her a good time though."

His words have my blood running stiff and I grasp my throbbing stomach with the knife still perched into it, I barely manage to object against the prospect of being raped. A small whimper quietly leaves my lips, before I set my eyes in a sharp glare towards the stranger. 

"Fuck her good," My father says disgustingly and pats him proudly on the back before leaving. 

I need help, fuck, I officially need help, urgently.

I can't be raped, they can't rape me. 

I need help.