◽MEET THE PROBLEM◽
◽THIRD PERSON'S POV◽
"You're an Angelini?" The intensity in the guy's gaze caught Marian off guard. Could this be a Mafia encounter? All those dark tales Angel had shared suddenly felt more real than her fictional imaginings. She had often dismissed her friend's obsession with dark romance novels as mere fantasy, but now, faced with the puzzled guy in front of her, annoyance evident in his furrowed brow, she couldn't help but wonder.
"Chi cazzo è questo?“ {who the fuck is this} he groaned in frustration once more.
"Who made this mistake?" he demanded angrily, his thick Italian accent filling the silent that previously engulfed them.
His eyes flashed with annoyance. Marian remained unfazed. After all, she was the one who had been kidnapped. She couldn't understand why she was expected to stay calm while he seemed on the verge of a breakdown.
He reached for a button on his desk, massaging his temple with his other hand. "Vieni subito!" {come here right now}
As they stood there, each with their own concerns, it was clear they were not on the same page. One was annoyed at his men for abducting the wrong sister, while the other was grappling with the realization that every Mafia story she had ever heard might be true.
The person standing before her was Carmello, the under boss of the Angelini clan and the only son of the current don, known for his ruthlessness in handling business matters. "How did I get here again?" Marian asked, feeling like she was trapped in a surreal nightmare. "Am I going to die?" She kept asking rhetorical questions, which Carmello found irritating. He despised chatter, especially when he needed to think. "Silent!" he snapped, but Marian continued her stream of consciousness.
"Yes, I agreed to go to the club like we do every Friday. Oh, good lord, I'm dead," she muttered to herself.
Even if she wanted to stop herself from rambling, it was her coping mechanism. She couldn't help but babble whenever she found herself in a predicament.
She looked up at Carmello. "Are you going to kill me, slowly and painfully?" she asked, not showing a hint of fear. She was the type to face reality head-on and assess the situation immediately upon finding herself in a trap.
"I need you to answer. If you're not going to kill me, I should keep calm because my heart is racing a mile a minute," she rambled on, hoping he would say something.
"Cazzo! Didn't you hear me tell you to shut up?" {fuck} he snapped. "Yes, I heard, but I can't stop myself from rambling whenever I'm in potential danger," Marian explained. "And I am sure I'm in danger."
He was done with her. He was annoyed that he had to deal with a high schooler who knew nothing about keeping quiet. Yet, he found her boldness intriguing. She hadn't shed a single tear since she had being taken. Instead, she was rationalizing everything and studying everyone around her.
"Whatever you think I did, I didn't do it," Marian insisted. "I've never been involved in any crime in my whole life." She took a deep breath, about to start negotiating. "I don't know why you kidnapped me, but I'm getting something out of this. I must have been mistaken for my sister," she snapped her fingers. "You must have thought I was Mathilda." It all made sense now.
Carmello was intrigued by her. She had processed everything so quickly and was totally right about it all. It came as a surprise to him. Most students were foolish, or at least hia cousins were, but this was the first time someone hadn't been squealing like an animal caught in a trap in front of him. She was just so bold or maybe stupid, there was no in between.
"So, I know you can't kill me," she concluded. "Good. I'm safe for now," she nodded to herself.
Now interested in Carmello, Marian couldn't help but notice how tall he was.
He was very tall.
She studied his feature, mesmerized by his beauty.
He looked dark and dangerous.
He was alluring, yet looked like he would kill her without blinking twice.
"Usually, I thought Mafia bosses were potbellied short devils, but you are tall and handsome, devilishly handsome," she remarked, studying his features. Carmello was shocked, to say the least. He was beginning to find her chatter annoyingly interesting.
What made her so bold?
She had just gone through a traumatic experience, yet she still noticed how handsome he was and, better still, had the guts to say it to him.
"Look at your features. My, it's been a long time since I've seen such a beautiful person. You know, for being a Mafia boss, you don't look rough around the edges. You just look like a normal adult," she walked closer to him. "A normal supermodel adult." He chuckled. "How old are you, Mr. Angelini? If I guess from what my friends have told me, you're probably around 36 years old, am I right?" She wasn't even close.
“I'm twenty five,” Carmello decided to huumor her, he found it amusing and irritating that she hasn't stopped talking. "So tell me, Marian, how old are you?" She was surprised he asked. She was a very good liar, someone quick on her feet. She didn't need to think before coming up with a quick answer, and she could lie without batting an eyelash.
"Eighteen," she replied. "You said that so quickly, as if you were expecting that question," he observed. Yes, she was a good liar, but Carmello could read people like an open book. It was one of the reasons he was the next in line instead of his older cousin.
"Technically, I'm not lying. I would be eighteen in a month's time," she said, walking around his office as if she owned the place. He couldn't help but chuckle. "You have no fear," he remarked.
"Yeah, right. I'm shaking right now," she deadpanned. She was being serious, but she sounded so sarcastic.
He didn't take that well, he got up from his seat, walking towards her.
Each step he took had her cowering into the corner, as if just realising the gravity of the situation.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice less steady "vieni a prenderla e tirala fuori. Put her in the guest room," {come and get her out} Marco instructed over the phone. The guest room? Weren't they supposed to just let her go when she was the wrong person?
"Why are you putting me in the 'guest room'? You're supposed to send me back home. My parents are going to be really worried. I've been here for more than five hours, and you've taken my phone and everything," she started hyperventilating.
"Are you okay?" Carmello asked, concerned. She started gasping for air, holding her chest as she tried to call for help. "Inhaler," she rushed out. "You're asthmatic?"
Such a hassle, he thought
He had to have a teenager in the house, the mansion is big enough for them to never see if he just throws her in the other side of the building which was the staff quarter, but this girl is an hostage he can never let go, her sister had eloped with the file that contained informations that contained the biggest treats to their mafiosa.
He beeped his right hand man to bring in the girl's bag, it was strange for a girl to have a big bag in the club, her bag was big enough to fit the whole club.
Martini brought the bag in a hurry, emptying the content on the glass table, he handed it to Marian who took a drag in a hurry
As soon as she caught her breath she ran to Carmello holding on to him "you can't hold me in here, I have drugs at home that I need to take" Carmello with no pity, pulled her hand off his cloth, she stumbles backward earning a disagreeing grunt from Martini
Martini gently took Marian out, showing her into a guest room, Marian was trying her best not to break down, she sat without saying another word
She was defeated, maybe it was the seizure she had just had, she just wanted to stay alone
The room felt big, but as soon as Martini closed the door, locking her in there, she felt the walls shifting in, she hugged her leg shaking uncontrollably as if just weighing the gravity of the situation, she felt claustrophobic as she screamed silently
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