Chapter 2

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Giada

The bartender's phone beneath my hand lights up with a message, showing me the time in the process. Three pm and I'm at a bar. I must look horribly pathetic as I stare through the amber liquid in my half-empty glass.

Not that I have it in me to care right now. I really don't. Not with the massive headache assaulting my temples and the hateful creature eating its way through my heart. Not with the unshed tears throbbing behind my eyes and the lump in my throat, begging me to scream, either.

God, who would have thought I'd end up here?

Honestly, who? I wouldn't know. I don't know much of my more recent past, at least not anything before I woke up in the hospital three days ago.

"What's your story?" a stranger's voice pulls me from the dark place my thoughts were headed. I'm almost relieved until I look at the person.

A short, plump man in his mid-fifties, maybe, is staring through too-big glasses at me with wide, bloodshot eyes. The glasses sit crookedly on the bridge of his long nose, adding to his disheveled look. Thin brown strands of hair streaked with grey stand off in every direction on his head while a few days' worth of stubble complete his impression of being unkempt.

He barely blinks as I assess him, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he waits for an answer. He reminds me weirdly of an excited child expecting candy or something and it's unnerving enough for me to do just that. Answer. Say the truth aloud for the first time.

"My father died," I say, the words sounding sour and wrong on my tongue.

"I'm so sorry for your loss. May I ask what happened? Please, pardon my curiosity. I can't help it," The stranger says in one breath.

"Wish I knew," I mumble, staring back at my drink, expecting him to leave. I should have known better.

"Now I'm hooked!" he exclaims, climbing onto the barstool next to mine. "How do you not know?"

I sigh exasperatedly, the events of the past few days rushing through me all over again. Insufferable frustration following right after. "I don't know because no one told me and my brain is all scrambled! Like, what the hell? I tried asking the nurse about it when I woke up only for her to get all nervous and rush out of the room. I asked the doctor that checked up on me later and the receptionist.

"When no one would say anything, I simply asked how I got there. "Car accident," was their reply. That is all! I'm not buying it though. If I had had a car accident with my father, he would've been at the hospital with me. At the very least, someone would have been able to tell me more about his death but no! Of course, no one tries to help me! Who cares that the girl lost her only remaining family and her memories at the same time, right?" I exclaim. Then I down the rest of my drink, already regretting my outburst. I already feel crazy, no need for me to play the part.

"That happens often. He's good at covering his tracks," the stranger tells me seriously.

Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe just the fact he's the only person willing to say anything on the subject. Either way, I find myself meeting his gaze and ask, "Covering his tracks? Who?"

"Capo Crimini." This, the stranger whispers. And I officially know that I'm dealing with someone who's lost his marbles.

"Excuse me, who?" I ask boredly, ordering another drink.

"I do not know his name, of course. No one does apart from his famiglia. But it's him. We all know it's him who rules the city."

"You think he has something to do with my father's death?" I ask half-heartedly. At this point, I'm ready to cry. I got my hopes up over this conversation for a hot second there.

"From what you've told me, absolutely. He's the only one that can scare everyone else into keeping such an accident a secret. I'm only surprised you're still breathing. Sloppy," the man mutters to himself before he hops off his chair and walks away. "Getting sloppy." Is the last thing I hear before he disappears behind more people.

The memory from all those months ago plays through my fuzzy mind as I slowly regain consciousness. I curse myself for having dismissed the talk.

"Rise and shine. Took you long enough, Princess." The deep, smooth voice comes from somewhere nearby. I keep my eyes shut even though he knows I'm awake and as his words rush over me, I suppress a shiver. From fear or something else, who can tell.

The voice is pleasant enough, all soft edges and revealing no ill-intentions. I'd be a fool if I trusted the first impression. Things don't tend to be as they seem.

"There, there, no need for your heart to start racing. I'm just here to ask you a few questions. I have strict orders not to lay a hand on you," the stranger tells me, making me aware of the monitor beeping happily behind my bed.

I'm on a bed.

My eyes snap open without my permission and I quickly scan my surroundings. White walls, white floor, white sheets, and white light streaming from the lamps in the white ceiling. Everything looks so sterile. So awfully similar to a cell in a clinic it makes my skin crawl.

When my eyes settle on the only patch of color in the room, my lungs fail me for a beat and I forget to breathe.

He's beautiful; light brown hair on golden skin paired with startling blue eyes. His frame is huge, broad shoulders and defined arms visible even through the white shirt he's wearing. Still, despite the power his body holds the stranger doesn't scare me. Intimidate, maybe. But I don't think he'll hurt me.

Don't ask me how I know.

"Believe me, you wouldn't want to see the guy who gave you this," he goes on calmly, pointing at the side of my face. No doubt there's already a bruise deepening from where I was hit before I was taken here. I can feel the strain of my skin over my right cheek. It stings like a bitch.

"Where am I? Why am I here? What do you want? Let me go!" I demand, my mind finally catching up with the situation. I've been kidnapped. Now I'm god-knows-where with some strange man that could easily be twice my size.

My lungs tighten with barely restricted panic. I'm alone and defenseless.

I pat down my pants, nearly bursting into tears when I realize they've taken my pepper spray. I might know how to fight but I'm sure the man in front of me does too. I'm at a clear disadvantage and can't seem to keep my cool long enough to figure out an escape plan.

"Let's start with my questions, why don't we? But first, it's time for a proper introduction. I'm Luciano Dante, nice to meet you."

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I didn't proof read this chapter throughly so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Don't be too mean to me lmao. I spent multiple hours in the hospital today so yk.

Whatever ahhaha in case u haven't seen, aesthetics are up. Have a great dayy<3

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