Life Is A Living Hell

Chapter 41 I Let Him (rewritten)

For a man so adept at killing, his eyes were remarkably soft.
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Olivia Brown

"What did you just say?" I breathed out, suddenly it was hard to breathe.

"Um, Theo said they were going to kill Mateo something," Vittoria mumbled unsurely. Blue, puzzled eyes were staring at me.

"Mateo Brown." A feeble whisper came out of my mouth.

"Yes, Mateo Brown!" She blurted out. But Vittoria's brief ecstatic didn't last long before it got replaced by apprehensive. "Wait, do you know that guy?" She peered into my eyes, like she'd somehow see the answer in my eyes.

What is happening? I felt dizzy and utterly bewildered.

Why would they want to kill Mateo? Did he have the flash drive all of a sudden? How did that happen?

"Olivia?" Vittoria's voice invaded my train of unanswered questions.

"Mateo Brown is..." I exhaled a long, jaded breath. "My father." A piercing clink reverberated around the spacious dining room when Vittoria dropped her spoon onto the bowl.

"Oh shit." A soft murmur fell out of Vittoria.

"Why would Theo and the guys want to kill your father?" Her bemused voice carried a hint of worry. Throughout my clouded mind, I could feel how she was staring at me, how she suddenly breathed so quietly, how she tried to be as soundless as possible. As if she thought I was a dear, that the slightest noise would make me bolt. Or she thought I would do something outrageous like screaming at the top of my lungs noooooooo like a maniac.

"Did they say something more before they left? Like why?" I questioned. She bought some time by inhaling a deep breath while attempting to remember.

"Unfortunately, no. They were just in a hurry for some reason." Silence fell upon us as I stared bemusedly at my glass of water.

Why would Antonio want to kill my father? And so all of a sudden? Did Mateo's men do something to piss off Anton? Was Alex involved? Oh my God, Alex! What if something happens to him too? What if they kill him too?

I abruptly stood up and headed to the kitchen.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Vittoria called after me as she stood up and followed me into the kitchen. Her confused, blue eyes followed my movements.

"Have you seen my phone!? I need to call my brother." I pleaded hysterically. "It was here just a second ago," I mumbled to myself as I peered around in the spacious kitchen. Vittoria snapped into action and began searching too.

Please, God, let him be alive. I can't lose another family member.

Oh, God, no. Please, please, please, God.

"I found it!" She runs to me with the phone in hand.

"Thank you," I exhaled with relief. She handed the phone over. My thumbs were trembling over the numbers as I dialled his number. I pressed the phone to my ear.

"Please pick up, pick up." Murmuring to myself, I anxiously bit my nails. Instead of hearing Alex's voice, I heard this obnoxious woman say he wasn't available right now. I dialled his number again.

"Pick up, pick up." The same annoying woman answered again.

"Try and call Antonio instead." Vittoria offered worriedly.

"I don't have his number," I replied, clutching my hair and pacing the room. She took out her phone from her back pocket and gave it to me. "Here, use mine. I have his number." I called him, but he didn't answer either. I called him again.

"C'mon, c'mon, please pick up." Still, I got the same result.

"Call Theo instead." As I brought the phone to my ear, I heard the front door open. Theo came into my view with his ringing phone in his hand. After him came the rest of the guys. I hung up and ran up to the guys.

"Where's Antonio?!" I demanded in an exasperated voice, gazing at their stone-cold faces. 'When did they get so cold and distant?' a childish, feeble voice in me asked. Why didn't they answer me?

Speaking of the devil, Antonio ambled in, covered in blood. Mateo's blood. And for his own sake, I hoped it wasn't Alex's blood too.

I was frozen to the ground; I couldn't move or breathe. It felt like time was standing still as I took in the sight of him. Messy, dark, wet hair, a few strands had fallen down on his forehead. Blood drops on his aloof face; he wasn't wearing a shirt; his whole burly chest and torso were covered in blood; his tattoos had never stood out as much as they did then. One of his tattoos caught my eye: Dulce periculum. What does that mean? He looked like the devil, a bloodthirsty devil, unfortunately, a handsome devil who I couldn't stop thinking about, a handsome devil who killed the only person I had left.

Please, God, tell me that Alex is alive.

The devil's blank eyes stared at my glossy, disbelieving eyes. I wanted to run up to him, slap him, hit him, hurt him, scream at him, do something. Except, I couldn't. I couldn't move if my life depended on it. I wasn't even sure if it was real, felt like I was dreaming—more like suffocating. Before the devil could walk past me, I caught his colossal hand.

"Please tell me that my brother is alive." A soft, defeated whisper came out of my spent soul. My soul couldn't take more spilled blood. My young soul had seen too much of this brutal world, I didn't think it could take more. One day, my soul would leave my body, not because I died, but because it couldn't take more. And I would be left in solitude. The only remains would be my abounded body, which would sink in the devil's vicious eyes. And there, I would be left to be forgotten and cold. I will be like a vintage porcelain doll, empty, just a shell, easy to break. There, at the bottom of the dark ocean, I would be. I would see a brawny hand, thinking he was there to save me, I'd let him take my fragile body. It would turn out that the devil never wanted to save me, he merely wanted to crush me in his brawny hand. The worst part would be that I let him.

Instead of answering me, Antonio took a hold of me and lifted me up. He carried me bridal style up the stairs, tainting me with blood, tainting me with his sins and cruelty. And I let him.

Please, God, help me. I'm sinking.

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