Manners with the Devil

19

G I A V A N N A        A M A T O

The next morning, I found myself in a bed. Tired. Hungover. Empty.

Lucas' words play in my mind.

"I'm so sorry amore, I would have stopped your pain."

Sebastien's screams for me play in my mind.

"GIAVANNA I NEED YOU PLEASE! DONT TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME"

I need answers. A hell lot of answers.

But first, I'm craving smoke or a strong drink to flood out the pain or create more.

"Morning Miss."

I lift my head and see a maid walk in my room with clothes and underwear.

"Morning." I grunt, heaving myself up off the bed.

I'm already use to being a hostage.

She walks closer and lays the clothes on the end of my bed.

"Mr Santoro told you to wear these clothes then meet him in his office." She says and leaves the room.

Fucking hell, I have to go see him again? I just want to be left alone.

Someone get me alcohol before I fucking smash my head on this bed board.

I pick up the clothes, and they were black leggings and a top. But the underwear is what got me. He picked me out a fucking thong.

What the fuck.

This has to be some form of harassment.

Anyways, I put the clothes on and left my room.

I also find it strange that when I've been kidnapped twice, they haven't locked me up. Both, Sebastien and Lucas have allowed me to go tmfreely throughout their houses.

"Morning Giavanna." Lucas says as I enter his office.

"Morning."

I take myself a seat at his desk.

"So, what do you want?" I ask, leaning back in the chair.

"What I want? I have what I want." He replies, a smirk travelling along his face.

This is the first time I've properly been okay to see Lucas. I never saw how fucking gorgeous he was. He looked unreal.

His fresh black hair complimenting his face shape with a sharp jaw. His piercing Hazel eyes staring at mine in such passion. And his lips. Oh my his lips. Who knew lips could be so juicy and tempting.

I hate him too much to find him attractive though.

"I'll tell you why Sebastien was so fond of you. Why he kept you. Why everyone wants you." He says, leaning up and typing on his computer, falling me out of my gaze.

My mind sparks up. What does he mean?

"Your mother." He says, as if he can read what was going through my brain.

"What about my mother?" I lean forward and place both my elbows on his desk.

"Your mother is... very fucking powerful. She is known as 'The Demon.' And well, your her daughter. So, who wouldn't want you?"

"What? Where is she?"

My mother left a few years ago, which created my alcohol,  drugs and cigarette addiction. I hate her for it. But I'm curious on where she is. And, I don't even know if I want to see her again. She left me and my father. For what?

"Do you think a powerful woman would show where she lives?" He shrugs.

"Well, why do you want me?" I ask, confused and curious.

"To make you the second most powerful."

"I don't need a man to make me powerful. I can handle it by myself thank you very much." I say.

He sighs.

"Your messed up, Giavanna."

"Fuck off." I roll my eyes and leant back in my chair.

"Your on a mission tonight. French. I'll explain more later. Go rest for now. It'll be your first experience."

I stand up from my chair and walk out.

Who is he to tell me I'm messed up? I think I already fucking know that.

My legs walked their way downstairs to the kitchen which I found last night.

I need alcohol.

I need drugs.

I need cigarettes.

I open the cupboard to find it empty.

I rummage through the whole kitchen to find no alcohol.

The dumb bitch fucking took all the alcohol out.

Tears form in my eyes.

I just want it. I want it so bad. I'll do anything. I need it. I fucking need the feeling down my throat.

"Giavanna." Someone walks in, finding me in the kitchen crying.

I focus my eyes on the figure who was one of the men from last night.

"Antono." He says and walks over to me.

"Where's the alcohol?" I spit at him.

He steps back in shock.

Why is everyone scared of me? I'm nothing like my mother. Or who Lucas told me of her.

"It's usually in this cupboard."

"It's not there anymore." I say.

I want to scream. I want to shout. I want to kill. I want to die.

"Please find me some." I start to whisper under my breath. My eyes looking down at my feet.

I walk out the kitchen.

I'm not okay.