Fiery Revenge⎪✓

44

☀︎

My apartment appears to be normal. The sight of every piece of furniture in its rightful place, the holes in the walls from bullets are gone and I feel weirded out instantly. There is no trace of the slaughter that happened in this very building, the chilly air in here leaves me painstakingly cold. 

It's my apartment and yet it doesn't truly feel like it. 

Marc really made everything perfect again, I never even thought it would return to this state. My hand clutches the key tightly and I close the door behind me, ensuring that I lock it. 

Throwing the keys onto the kitchen island, I grab my gun and check every corner of the place. No trace of having company and I don't know how to feel about that. It is a possibility that Xavier gave up on finding me, but it seems weird if he did. That dangerous man knows that I'm targeting his father. 

Then again, the dealers told me that Carlos doesn't trust his son either and that fact complicates things even more. I don't know where I'm standing in all of this. 

Looking through my cabinets I find the family portrait of mine and stare at the picture. My heart soars in pain at the sight of my little brother's emerald eyes, glinting in what shines through as pure and utter happiness. 

My face is the exact same, smiling too much at the camera I grip my mother's outstretched hand. An arm is snaked around her waist, my dad pulling her to his side with a loving glance down at her. They adored each other and I love this picture because it embodies that. 

Hiding the picture away again, I decide then and there what I have to do. Changing into a black and subtle dress, I place the thigh holster underneath the piece of fabric, needing it to be hidden. I walk into the torture room where my tools are sprawled across the table in the corner. 

Gripping the necessities, I tuck them into my holster accompanied by my gun, hiding it away with the dress. 

My thoughts are scattered and it makes even breathing difficult. I'm doing this for my family. Stepping into a pair of black shoes I nod my head at the reflection in the mirror. My wavy hair is hanging loosely in a brown mess, but it gives me the opportunity of hiding my face if I need it. 

Opening the door to the outside, my mind clutters instantly and I lock the door behind me, knowing exactly where this could lead. 

****

The bartender scoots the bourbon in front of me and I nod at him. The Dungeon is the last place I want to be, but I feel some need to talk to Rocco before going through with this. He hasn't seen me yet, in fact, I have no clue where he is. Which is why I'm on my third bourbon of the night, desperately ignoring the feeling of all the weapons hidden underneath my dress. 

It's fucking disgusting what I'm planning, but Carlos can't live on and he isn't the first victim of mine either. 

"Hey, gorgeous," A voice speaks to my right, the man sitting down on the barstool next to mine smirks. "Can I get ya name?"

"Yeah, no."

"Just trying to get to know you," He says with his hands raised in surrender. 

"No, you're trying to gain a quick fuck."

"I would like to get underneath that dress of yours, yes," He admits. 

"Trust me, you don't," I tell him with conviction, if only he knew the weapons I'm hiding under said dress. 

An arm cuts in between us where the hand leans against the table, a familiar man staring down at me with confusion riding in his stare. 

"What are you doing here?" Rocco questions. 

"Came to talk."

He nods towards the room in the back and I follow along, the music dims down when we enter and he turns to me instantly. "You're up to something, Eloisa," He states. 

Tilting my head to the side, "You aren't so easily fooled."

"What is it?"

"I'm going through with it tonight. Don't ask me why the fuck I came here, but just wanted someone to know."

"You want someone to recognise your death, don't you?"

"Something like that," I say and take a sip of the bourbon I brought with me. 

"You're insane," He states and throws himself onto the bed. 

"Thanks," I answer.

Anger flashes in his eyes again, "No, Eloisa, you don't get it. You're going against this monster. This ruthless and ignorant killer, you're throwing yourself into his arms with no regard."

"Why the fuck are you suddenly all up in my business, Rocco? You used to accept all of my crazy and stupid ass ideas with no comments."

"Because I care about you," He states, his blue eyes cutting to me. 

"No thank you."

He stands up again and inches closer, "I care about you like I do my own sister and you don't realise this, you're too far gone over this plot of yours."

Clenching the cold glass in my hand, "I don't want anyone to care! Caring gives issues and issues are something I won't deal with. Don't care about me, Rocco."

"I'm not an emotionless machine," Him saying this to me makes everything more complicated. 

I can't have him care, not about me. I cared about my family and look where that got me. Caring will only bring him misery. 

"Nothing you say will stop me from going there tonight," Stating this he groans at me.

"At least let me refill that drink of yours, can we toast over the misery of you dying tonight?"

"I shouldn't."

"You owe me that fucking much, Eloisa."

"Fine," I give in and he grabs the glass from me, leaving the room and me in here. I throw myself onto the bed, wishing for the walls to swallow me whole. This whole idea is absolutely insane, but it's what I've been wanting to do for so many years by now. 

My family wouldn't be proud of me, but they would have to deal with me taking revenge for them. 

I'm too far in to give up on this, I simply don't want to give up on it. 

Carlos Romano will die, even if that means I'll go down with him.