Halfway down the corridor, I notice the two men Elio had stationed in front of my room are missing. I slow down and scan the area. The place is dead silent.

My frown deepens and just as I'm about to twist open my doorknob, the sound of hurrying footsteps towards me gives me a pause. Marco anxiously rushes to me, wheezing.

"What's wrong?" I ask the moment he stops.

"You tella, what 'appened with Elio?"

I smile at him. "I'm still alive, so it's safe to say it didn't go that bad."

He rolls his eyes, locking his arm with mine, and drags me down the hallway. "You 'ave to tell me heverrythinga and let's eata something."

"Isn't it past midnight?" I bite my bottom lip to keep myself from giggling as we descend the stairs.

"Sì ma- but so whata?"

I laugh and shake my head as he leads me to the kitchen. We settle behind the stools as one of the serving girls places two plates of round golden-brown dessert for us, steam still rising from them.

Marco only allows me to enjoy the first bite of the hot pastry, with its fried exterior and incredibly soft and delicious center before bombarding me with questions.

I spend over an hour answering everything he asks, consisting of every possible detail throughout the night. Starting from our drive to the nightclub, meeting Esposito, the way the men were stationed, every single hand gesture, body posture, tone of voice, and everything else I noted until spotting those two men, and the incident with Gianni.

The only matter I leave out is my brief phone call with Ruby, the rest I explain as thoroughly as I can, sometimes even twice. I can't help but feel, aside from wanting to know my perspective, he's double-checking my skills and how useful I can be for them. After all, at the end of the day, no matter how nice he's to me, Elio and the mafia come first for him and his allegiance is to them, not me.

Surprisingly though, I find myself not minding this prospect, it's nice to have my abilities challenged and put to use.

I also discover the mind-blowing pastry's name is Iris and is particularly associated with Palermo, the city we're in Sicily. Marco scruffs down four of them by the time I'm done going over the night for him.

"I'm 'appy Elio hagreed to leta you prrepare cases hagainst Esposito, but if we want the trriala to 'appen in America, 'ow will we do thata?" he inquires, wiping the corners of his mouth with the pad of his thumb.

I drum my fingernails on the countertop, lifting a shoulder. "I can ask one of my friends to hand over the information to one of the skilled prosecutors."

He nods with his brows furrowed for a long moment before shaking his head and getting to his feet. "Hit's late, hi'll check on Elio, and you, sleepa."

I snort. "Yeah, you do that, he almost popped a vein back in his study."

He chuckles and leaves the kitchen. I follow, staying a few paces behind him as he heads to the staircase leading to the right-wing.

I pause at the foot of the staircase, half tempted to explore that side of the mansion but I snuff out my curiosity. I have to lay low for at least a few days before doing something as dangerous as that.

With a heavy sigh, I climb up the stairs and make my way to the left-wing, where my bedroom is located.

But as I step into the narrow hallway, two unfamiliar bulky men are standing in front of my wide-open door, facing toward the inside as if watching something intriguing.

I slow down as I study them. One of the men has his arms crossed in front of his chest and the other has his palms planted on his hips, saying something in a gruff voice.

My heart pounds in my chest and a small voice tells me to spin and bolt away, but I shush it and near them. Maybe Elio decided to replace those two previous men with them... but if he had, wouldn't he inform me about this change?

I stop a few steps away from Elio's study as I grow queasier. My gaze drops to the ground and the entire area is wet, including the walls. Just as I look up, deciding to leave, the guy with his arms crossed spots me.

"Lei è qui," he announces to someone inside the room.

I use my entire willpower to move forward even though every fiber in me is screeching to go as far away as possible. "What's going on here?" I demand in a surprisingly steady voice.

A thudding noise like plastic hitting the floor comes from inside the dark room and a second later the same guy from the street gang I sent behind bars walks out.

I hold my head up, fixing a hard stare on him as I march to him. "What were you doing in my room?"

He grins at me like a Cheshire cat, way more bone-chilling and creepier, but I don't stop until I'm standing less than five feet away from him.

His black beady eyes hold my glare with ease.

"I said what were you-" Before I can complete my sentence, the nearest guy grabs me and hauls me to the room.

Terror seizes my throat and I can't even get a scream out as he throws me on the damp bed. The sickening scent of gasoline assaults my nostrils.

Trembling from head to toe, by the time I scramble on the bed and sit upright, I catch one of the men holding a lighter under the curtain.

"What are you doing?" I shrilly ask and struggle to get off the bed.

"Hi spenta one yearr in jail because of you! Now my name will be the lasta thinga you heverr 'ear." A guttural roar tears from the street gang guy's throat as he advances toward me.

I watch him with wide eyes. Fear immobilizes me and I stop breathing.

He grips my upper arm, his black eyes glinting with rage. "Franco his man of 'is worrdsa. Hi said hi'll kill you, you die." He shoves me back.

From my periphery, I notice a bright light only to realize the curtain is on fire. My chin trembles and I rapidly blink as I take in the room. The bathroom door is ablaze and long rectangular iron boxes are placed alongside the walls with logs of wood pilling over them, one of them is already swallowed by flames. One of the men drops his lighter on the woods in the box and the other throws his lighter on the bed just a second after I jump off.

"You're fucking insane!" I shriek and make a run for the door but he grabs me and throws me to the floor. My head hits the wooden panels. The walls swim before my vision as blinding pain overtakes my skull.

The second I'm able to bring my head up, the bed is in flames and the nightstands are burning too.

Fire is all around me. I'm trapped.

The door slams shut, caging me inside. My gaze jumps from one burning object to another. Tears spring to my eyes and my body shakes from fear but I push myself to my feet and run to the door, the only wooden item that's not burning.

I pound on the door. "Let me out!" I cry out.

Thick smoke slithers from the narrow space between the door and the floor. I stumble a step away as I stare at it with horror.

"Help!" I shout, pressing my palms to my temples as the fire keeps growing wilder. Hot tears roll down my eyes, my knees give in, and I hit the ground with a painful thud.

"Somebody, help!" I bawl, rocking back and forth, cradling my head between my hands. I scream the only name cutting through the fog of terror gripping my mind, "Elio!" I look around, my short breaths rip out of my throat. The smoke burns my nostrils. I cough and cry out, "Elio, p-please."

But it's useless. I know it is. It's over. I'm trapped.

All these years of pain, suffering, getting beaten down yet pushing myself to my limits for survival, all of it is going to waste. All of it will be for nothing. 

I bring my knees to my chest and hug them, moving to and fro, as tears stream down my cheeks. Images of my childhood, being stuck in my room while the house was burning, circulate in my head as my throat burns with the thickening smoke.

This is it. No one can cheat death twice.

I'm going to get suffocated with smoke and burn.

❈ ☯︎ ❈

So... I did warn you this chapter is going to be dramatic :')) 

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, don't forget to vote if you did =) And comment your thoughts. Were you expecting something like this to happen to her, or not?

Thank you so much for reading ^.^

Stay safe, lots of love, happy reading ♡