Secret Crown

VIII. Eight

Scarlett

Simone had dropped a bombshell on me about my father's life. Everything was being brought to light about my father and the car accident. The same one that left my mother bedridden and left us struggling to make ends meet. My lips were busted open and bleeding. This woman was tall, sleek, and beautiful. Her ivory skin glowed in contrast with the black satin dress she was wearing, but none of that could hide the fact that she reeked of chaos and death. She pulled her arm back again, readying herself for another punch across my face, except her arm never came crashing down on me.

As I gathered the courage to look back up at her, I found the dark figure of Adrián standing between us, holding her hand in mid-air. "That's enough, Simone!" he snarled loudly, making Simone quiver and tremble with fear. "S-sorry Adrián," she stuttered out. "Your job here is done!" he fumed. "Ian will pay you now; get the fuck out of my sight!"

"But-But Adrián," she protested. "But nothing!" he roared, "get out now!" Simone fell silent and lowered her head. She was extremely afraid of talking back to this man. His eyes were pitch black and soulless in that moment, as the air around him was thick and heavy, sucking the life out of anything near him. As Simone walked out, he focused those same heavy, dark eyes back down on me. They quickly shifted and became much more tender. "Are you okay?" he apologetically asked as he took out a pair of silver keys from his pocket and uncuffed me from the table. The other two brothers came in silently, observing everything around them while waiting for Adrián's orders. "What's the next step?" Leo asked breaking the silence. "I'll take her to my place," he quickly answered. Leo and Ian gave each other a look of confusion and walked out of the room never once questioning his decision. They had left me alone with Adrián. "Can you walk?" he asked as he helped lift me out of my seat by my arm, bringing me up close to him so that I was staring directly up into his eyes.

"I'm fine," I lowly said as he let my arm go. "Follow me," he ordered as he led me out of the interrogation room into the room on the other side of the mirror. He reached for something long and black off the desk that resembled a tie. "I'm going to blindfold you," he sternly said as he quickly closed the distance between us and bandaged my eyes with the scarf. It was tightly secured behind the many layers of my curls, "we can'thave you knowing this location." He gently held onto my hand and began leading me out of the room like an assistant leading a blind man. His voice was much gentler than it was when he was speaking with Simone. We stepped outside into the cool, crisp morning air. I could hear him opening the door to his car and then proceeding to grab my head and lower me into the passenger's seat. The black leather underneath me was cold to the touch, and the car smelled like spice and earth, trapping the scent in as he closed the door for me. He got into the driver's seat and turned on the ignition.

"I would like to apologize for tonight," he said, "but it was necessary to make sure you weren't a threat."

"I'm just a doctor," I whispered.

"No, you're not. You're Scarlett Catalano."

I let out a small, painful laugh, saying, "Yeah, thank you for shattering my reality of who I really am."

"Do you work today?" He asked as he continued the conversation.

"No, it's my off day, "I replied.

"Good, then you have plenty of time to tell me the rest of the story," he said as he shifted the car into gear. "That was the rest of my story," I said. We rode in silence for the rest of the way. He never said anything else after my response. It was hard to pick up on anything he might have been doing while driving. Not even a change in breathing, a yawn, or a sniffle. This man was like a stone with a mean poker face—hard and impenetrable.

"No, it isn't," he finally said, breaking his silence as he placed the car in park and turned it off. He helped me out of the car and up a small flight of stairs. There was a loud beeping noise followed by the clicking sound of a door unlocking. He quickly dragged me inside and shut the door behind me, where he then removed the blindfold from my eyes and ordered, "Sit down on the couch." He pointed to a black leather sofa. The living room had a sleek masculine theme throughout, with black leather couches and silver-lined glass tables.

"Do you talk like that to everyone?" I replied as I went to sit down. "It comes with my role," he said as he studied me with a small grin. "Now then, start from the beginning," he asked as he sat across from me and took off his coat.

I took a deep breath and began from the very beginning, back to when my father was alive and whatever little details I remembered. He sat in silence, observing me and studying me as if he were fact checking everything in his head. He never reacted throughout my story, which made me nervous. He kept the same facial expressions until the end, when I told him about Salvatore wanting me for Luca. His brow shot up. "He might not know your true identity yet, but when he does, he'll want you even more," Adrián said. "Why me? If he killed my father?" I asked as my heart began beating out of my chest.

"Because your father left behind a fuckload of hidden money." It's all an urban legend in our world; no one has found it or seen it. But if Salvatore finds out you're his daughter, he'll want to see if it's true by any means necessary." Adrian paused. "Do you live alone?"

"N-No my mother and I live together." My heart sank to my stomach. "I'll call someone to move her to a safe location. You'll stay here while we get this situation under control." He said he rose from his seat. "There's a bedroom upstairs that you can use."

"Wait, why can't I go home? I can't just choose not to show up to my job!" I panicked. "You won't, and you can't," he calmly said. "I'll handle that situation too."

"Why are you even helping me?" I was confused. "What if you were someone who hated my father too? How do I know you're not an enemy?"

"You were at one point," he said upfront. "Your father and my father were rivals. With your father's death, we had no more rivals that were worthy of matching our status." He rose from his chair and walked out of the living room, leaving me alone. My heart was pounding in my chest as I rose from the couch and began making my way towards the exit. I felt a strong grip grasp around my waist and lift me up off the floor, carrying me back inside and tossing me on the leather sofa. "Let me go!" I yelled as I flailed around, trying to put distance between us. He grabbed my ankle with a firm grip and tied something big, black, and squared to it. He released me from his grip and let my foot fall to the floor. "You can't leave, Scar."

"You are too useful for me in this game now," he grinned. That door only opens to me; there are cameras everywhere in this house. And that monitor you have attached to your ankle will let me know if you try and take it off or if your pulse goes below normal, so don't try anything dangerous."

"Why are you doing this? You said you'd keep me safe!" I yelled. 

"And this is keeping you safe," he grinned. "I'm the one calling the shots."

My lips trembled as I cried; my body ached from being flung back and forth; and my mind was mushy from being up for almost twenty-four hours. "What about my mother?" I asked again.

"She'll be safe," he said lowly. "Now come, let me show you the room." He led me up a flight of stairs to a bedroom with a bed centered in front of a large window. The room had the same theme throughout, with a black wooden-framed king-sized bed that was very masculine and dark, like its owner all around. "Is this your room?" I asked.

"It's yours as of this moment, "he shrugged. "Don't worry about your mother or your job," he added, "but don't make me remind you what will happen if you try to run away from here."

"Are you going to hand me over to Luca Romano?" I asked.

"Get some rest," he said, ignoring my question before leaving me alone.