Taglione || Mafia's Law

Ma quanto cazzo è bella?

Translation for the title of the chapter: But how fucking beautiful is she? 

When Giada coldly announced that her job was done, I couldn't help but flinch at her tone. I wanted to tell her I was sorry for assuming the wrong things, but she didn't give me the time. She was out the door before I could open my mouth.

"This is a lesson for you, for sure." I found myself whispering in the silence of the room. "When did you start assuming the worst of people?" But the other part of me knew the answer. When I met him.

There was a strong sense of revenge in me, of making sure I whip each and every one of them away from this Earth, but I knew I had no such power. What was more frightening was the thought in itself. That if I had the opportunity to do such thing, I'd do it. What was I turning into?

I suddenly couldn't stay in one place anymore. Getting up, I moved towards the mirror in the room. And the sight made me struggle for air. I knew it was my reflection staring back at me, but it was hard to believe it was really me. My lips were the first thing I noticed, for they were a bright red, and made me look dangerous. Powerful. Like I knew what I was doing. Like I could fit in the environment, like I was strong.

I'd never had red lipstick on my lips before. Sure, once in boarding school there was a girl that managed to sneak a lipstick in, but it was a soft pink color. I remember just how mesmerized we all were of it. It was hard to believe back then that they existed in the first place. A red lipstick seemed implausible.

Then, staring back at my reflection, I was hit hard by how many more things existed in the world. And how they could change the way one feels about oneself. My eyes scanned my whole face, taking in every little detail. My face looked perfect, without a sign of an imperfection. There were different shades of brown on my eyelids, perfectly combined together, along with an eye line that made my eyes look dangerous, "cat eyes", I thought to myself.

Was it wrong that I took pleasure in my appearance? We were thought at boarding school that the soul is the most important of things. And mine was getting darker, while my appearance was getting better. And that was how the mafia was stripping you of yourself, a voice in my head whispered.

Before my thoughts could roam any further, the door opened. Another young lady came into the room, with bright blue eyes and platinum blonde hair. She didn't look friendly at all. I wondered if Giada had told her anything. The woman took in my appearance, studied my face intensely, before her eyes roamed down my body.

"You are way less than I expected."

I cringed at her words. What was that supposed to mean? Did she know who I was? What was it that she expected?

"You know, for how much everyone here talks about you, you aren't much to be talked about."

After my clash with Giada, I decided that it was better to shut up rather than make more people despise me. I was in no position that granted me the power to respond to insults and not get in trouble. God knows who she was or what her role was! I didn't want to raise a whole army of people against me.

"What? Cat's got your tongue? You're afraid to speak?" She made a short pause, before continuing. "Or are you afraid of me?"

She let out a soft laughter; I stared at her, confused. How was she reading my thoughts? Was my expression so obvious?

"Don't be."

"Suddenly, it's all of us that must be afraid of you." She continued, as she was busying herself with the dresses, trying to pick the best one, I suppose. Her gaze kept moving between different dresses and my body, as she was struggling to find something that could fit me, I suppose. I could tell that I was way shorter than all the dresses that were sent for me. Awkward, I thought. Maybe if they didn't find anything for me, I would have to stay at home. God knew I didn't mind it.