Hatred to love

Chapter 3

The door slammed shut behind me, the lock clicked, and the powerful man who hauled me here emanated an aura of pure hatred.

"Who are you, tesoro? Tell me your name."

I inched away, feeling claustrophobic in the tiny square room with red everything. "I-I'm not telling you. You don't need to know!"

"Oh really?" Pietro took a frightening step towards me, eliminating my fearful inches immediately. "Then let me ask you this. If you really came here and just happen to have been called 'tesoro' previously, then why-"He paused before snatching the Ruger from where I had hidden it, "do you have a Ruger stored, quite impressively, between your breasts? Hm?"

Darn it! But this sly fox didn't come here just to show off her gun. "Wouldn't you like to know? Now may I have that back, it vas my O-grandfather's!" I stomped my foot in a childish pout, attempting to cover up my brief slip up.

"Opa, hmm? Il mio tesoro e Tedesco, sí?" He perked up an eyebrow as his eyes flashed into a cold glare. (My sweet darling is German, yes)

"N-no," I glanced up at him before retracting my gaze and rethinking my game plan.

He raised the brow ever so higher.

"Yes," I corrected with a dreadful sigh.

"And your boss, tell me, did he send his prized puttana to do his bidding? To confront me?" He stepped closer, I stepped back.

"No, he didn't. And I'm no puttana, Pietro!" Yeah, yeah. I got a lil pissed at the guy, broke my cover of innocence. But he called me a whore and that just ain't true.

"Ah, so tesoro knows my name? Si?"

One step closer, one step back.

"I-no!" Don't break. Don't break. And then, an idea flickered in my head. "Well let's make a deal, ja? Every move made in relation to the purpose of this room, and I will answer one question. Angebot?"(Deal)

"Deal," a wicked smirk ripped through his cold façade.

Carefully stepping away from him, distancing myself from him.

Walter's words echoed through my head once more, "Don't break. Don't break! Remember your methods. Your training. You know how to seduce a man. You know how to feign innocence. Nicht brechen!(Do not break)"

In a flash the space between Pietro and I disappeared, replaced by his masculine frame. He reached out for me, sliding his large hands down my dainty figure. "First question," he yanked me firmly to his chest, resting his hands on my hips. "Are you from Schwarz's mob?"

Truth or lie? "Yes," I hung my head to hide the sly grin twitching at the corners of my lips.

Lowering his head, the several inches necessary to reach my height, his breath fanned my sensitive ear. Making a almost electric shiver run down my spine. "If you are not one of his puttana's, then who are you?" His smooth lips grazed my ear.

"I-I..." a devilish grin broke through my neutral countenance.

Another jolt of electricity ran down my spine as he nibbled at my earlobe as if he were a rabbit and it were a carrot. "Tell me the truth, who are you in the Schwarz mob!"

"Verführerischer Mörderin." (seducing murderess)

He flinched. He froze. He became ridged.

"What did you say you are!" He growled, grabbing me by my thighs and lifting me up. My legs latching around his waist.

"I said. Ich bin die verführerische Mörderin," I rolled my eyes. This might be getting out of hand... (I'm the seducing murderess)

The gentle, step-by-step moves were gone. Out the window. Replaced by rough, dominating anger.

"Why are you here!" Without caution, and with pure hatred, he slammed he into the nearest wall. Still latched around him.

Air left me, leaving me to sound winded. "Simple. Boss.. wants you. Whether for information," wheeze, "or just to talk. I'm just," wheeze, "doing what I know how... to do to bring you in."

"If your boss was any decent man, he'd come confront me himself!" Left hand still holding me in place, right hand fiddling with my heels.

I completely lost it. I mean I know everyone believes the boss is a man, but it's so simple. I started to giggle in a tensed manner, "Boss ain't no man. Far from it really. In all honesty, boss is directly related to the last Chef!" I reached my hand down to assist in the removal of my shoes.(boss)

Clutching my wrist tightly, he grabbed the other one and held them above my head with one hand. "Are you saying, that your boss is a donna?"(woman)

"Ja."

"In direct relation to George? The last boss?"

"I believe that's what I said. Why?" What has that got to do- oh.

The glimmer of hate seemed to fade, replaced by a confused haze as if he were recalling a memory.

He quickly set me down, releasing me and allowing me to stand. Pietro forcefully swiveled to face the door, giving me a little freedom. But then, he spun to face me and jerked my face upwards with both palms.

Oh crap. Please, please, don't recognize me!

"No.. non puo essere," realization and shock flickered through his cold demeanor, quickly masked with the same cold look as before. And yet, the look in his eyes revealed as if he'd seen a ghost, "Victoria?" (No it can't be)