I blink as I lift my head, my entire body sore from another sleep in this fucking room. There's no clock here so I don't know what time it is, but all I do know is that Vincenzo De Santis is the cruellest man alive.
He drunkenly dragged me down here despite me begging him not to, too far gone to realise what he'd done.
He's gone and exposed himself as a man with a weakness to be exploited, his love for his family. I now realise that all of his acts are out of a crippling fear of something happening to his family.
I feel sorry for him, falling victim to the deepest weakness there is: love. The one thing that can be exploited in all people, for love makes you weak, makes you a target.
I lift my gaze as I hear a sound coming from outside, someone fiddling with the door before it opens.
My body freezes when I see Vincenzo, looking more disheveled than I've ever seen him before, dark rings under his eyes as he looks at me.
"What's the time?" I ask, my words coming out more bitterly than I would have liked.
"1 in the morning," he rasps, the hangover obviously treating him well. "Are you going to come out or do you want to spend the rest of the night in here?" he asks gruffly, the paranoia from before now leaving him as he invites me out.
I roll my eyes and stand up, my stomach growling as I do so, making Vincenzo chuckle as I walk past him and down the dark corridor.
As I walk down the guards all raise their guns, making me scoff as one of the them stands in front of me.
"Shoot her and I'll shoot you," Vincenzo says coldly, coming up behind me as the guards eyes widen and steps aside stuttering an apology.
"Do you plan on walking?" he asks in a scathing tone, I almost turn around and punch him for using that tone with me, but I decide against it and just keep walking.
We walk up the stairs and I go to walk to my room but Vincenzo stops me with a hand on my back, "You're hungry," is all he says, gently leading me towards the kitchen.
Confused by his sudden change of attitude I follow him blindly, unsure of what to think about it.
Bipolar ass bitch.
He flicks the kitchen lights on and walks inside, "What do you want?" he asks, looking at me with a tired face.
"You should go to bed, I can cook for myself," I mutter, trying to make it seem like I'm not fussing over his well-being.
You are.
I'm fucking not you liar.
"I don't trust you, remember?" he says lightly, an amused look in his eyes. "Right," I click my tongue and pull out a stool to sit on.
"So I'll ask again, what do you want?" he says, his tone even as his eyes bore into me.
I open my mouth and then shut it when I realise how fucking pathetic my request will sound.
"What?" he asks, "I'm not going to poison you," he taunts, leaning against the fridge as he looks at me.
"Grilled cheese," I mumble, trying to ignore his amused look as my cheeks flush red.
Why am I embarrassed about that? I fucking shouldn't be. It's my comfort food and I don't need to explain myself to him.
"White bread I presume?" he teases, getting a loaf out of the cupboard. "Yes," I snap back, unsure of why his presence is bothering me so much.
He hums and takes out a block of cheese from the fridge, finely slicing it up.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" I blurt out, "I thought you hated me," I try to redeem myself as he raises an eyebrow at me.

YOU ARE READING
No Strings Attached
RomanceAnastasia Mancini; everyone in the underworld knows her name, the Fiore Mortale. After her Grandfather murdered her parents, she was raised as his personal assassin, learning to kill without so much as a second thought. People fear her, men fall on...