MAFIA POSSESSION ( Completed)

PLAYING WITH EMOTIONS

The sound of Sophia rummaging around our shared room woke me up early. I hadn’t even realized when I’d fallen asleep, only knew that It had been pretty late…or early, depending on how you looked at it…and now dawn was breaking. “Morning,” my voice was groggy as my eyes adjusted to the lighting and the figure moving around in frantic motions in search of something— anything, by the looks of it.

“Jesus, Bella, I didn’t bring my phone.” Sophia was overwrought, her body tense as she turned her attention back to me.

“Please tell me last night was a nightmare and that this headache is not the product of my first hangover.” The words rolled of my tongue- a small joke- trying to ease my cousin’s frustrations. But my words were true.  It felt like my head was splitting in two. Had someone hit me in the head with a hammer last night?

“Get up. We have to try and get the hell out of here before your boyfriend wakes up.” She said with bitterness.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I questioned, not liking the underlining meanings, like it was supposed to be mocking, but yet held a truth unknown. “Sophie…Are you okay?” My cousin looked like she was having a panic attack.

“No I’m not fucking okay!  Last night I walked into a damn make-out session between you and Romero.” She hissed. “Then your boyfriend drags us to his penthouse,” she waves her hands in the air to make a point of our current location. “And now we are going to make a fucking run for it.” She was shaking, like she didn’t even know what to do with the space her own body occupied.

Then it hit me like Chris Brown’s fist hit Rhianna. She was terrified of Anthony. I suppose it wasn’t uncalled for. Not too long ago I’d been wearing those same shoes, but somehow in the last couple of years the fear he instigated in me had been distorted, reshaped, and took on a different form entirely. It was now the fear of need, want, and desire— never getting, never knowing, never sated, and never healing. It was almost impossible to understand… and yet it was a certainty that I knew deep down inside.

Could I ever forgive Anthony for what he did to me? ….No. But I still wanted him. And so much more out of this life.

Clearing my throat, pushing down those thoughts that wanted to pull me into a fine filament of even deeper and darker thoughts. “We’re going to be okay,” I assured. She needed to hear that. She need to know that Anthony was many things, a killer, a future capo, a man whore, a cheater, a liar…but he was also my future husband and I’d never let him hurt her. He would probably hurt me, many, many, many more times…but he’d never hurt her. I’d be damned first. Or he’d be dead.

“Ughhhhhhh!!” She huffed. “He’ll figure out that we lied to him.” Her face paled, probably imagining all the different things my fiancée would want to do to her as punishment. Couldn’t say I blamed her, he was a force to be reckoned with. 

“Okay, Sophie, can you just calm down? We’ll plead the 5th and call Mandiz. He can fix this.” Because now that my mind was sober, it was clear that Armando was the only one who could help. It was better to let my brother come up with lies he’d probably be able to back up, than us feed my fiancée empty lies that would raise more questions.
How? Mandiz probably already called Viktor and my mother…” She trailed off with a face palm.

I swiftly got out of the bed but had to stop almost just as soon. My stomach felt queasy. Shit. Remind me never to drink again. “Sophia, sneaking out probably won’t work.” He probably owns this damn building and has all of his staff looking out for us… Control freak and all. But I didn’t tell her that. “We’ll just have to face Anthony. He won’t hurt us. The real threat is Mandiz. Here’s to hoping he didn’t rat us out to Viktor yet.” Though the likelihood of that possibility was zero to none.

“How the hell are you not scared of him?” She gave me a look of complete incredulity. “I’ve heard horror stories about him, Bella. I never wanted to tell you but Max…” Again she trailed off. Max was another cousin, in charge of over-seeing father’s transportation businesses. Sophia was fond of him.

She shook her head and a look of distraught overtook her structure. “I don’t trust him.”

“I don’t trust him either, but Anthony won’t physically hurt us, besides, we’re royalty. He’d have a war on his hands and he dreads the very possibility.”

“You sound so sure of yourself,” Sophia said as her brows knitted.

And I held back from telling her that short of killing me, there was nothing else he could possibly do that could hurt worse than stealing my virtue. Especially because it would have been given at his simple request. How fucking sad was that? There had been no need for him to take, steal, rip away that part of me…I’d have gladly given it to him like an utter fool.

“Well, I’ve been on two dates with him.” A reminder that he hadn’t killed me yet.

“Yeah, two dates is not enough to get to know someone.” That was a vast understatement. “Plus he knows we lied. He’s out for answers that we can’t give.”  Sophia started pacing and inspecting the room yet again, looking for god knows what, yet again. A phone? She wouldn’t find one. A weapon? She wouldn’t use it. She probably just needed to busy herself so she wouldn’t go crazy. That was understandable.

“Like I said, we’ll plead the 5th. He’ll have to return us eventually. We’ll let Armando clean up after our mess, he’ll do a better job than us, I promise.” We locked gazes and right away knew she wasn’t at all convinced but she didn’t really have a choice. In fact, neither did I.

“There are clothes in the dresser. You should change,” She muttered.

“And shower,” I said. Because the smell of sweat and booze still lingered in my hair. And I needed time to collect my thoughts before stepping out to face him. Last night had been a drunken mistake, I’d been overtaken by lust and desire and the need for comfort that in my hindered state I’d foolishly thought he could ever provide. It was a mistake. A drunken, bad, horrible mistake.

Sophia and I both showered and readied ourselves. After we cleaned up and both dressed in fresh clothes that were found in the dresser, we stayed in the bedroom for a long time not doing much of anything at all. An hour, maybe, just riding the time that reluctantly kept ticking by. Both dreading the unavoidable eventual confrontation that awaited us outside the door. But eventually, we summoned our courage and both went in search of our gracious host.

Note the sarcasm.

Anthony and Adonis were already there, in the open-view kitchen, dressed much more causally than I’d ever seen them dressed before. Both wearing jeans and T-Shirts. It reminded me of that picture Anthony had taken with Maya, where she had looked so comfortable in his embrace and he looked nothing like a future capo. Like he was just a normal man, with his normal girlfriend.

Sophia stayed close to me and somehow I found that slightly ironic, because she was the eldest. Yet she was finding comfort in her 16 year old kin. Guess we both found comfort in each other. She didn’t know that the moment my eyes landed on Anthony a desire to run far, far away gutted me in the stomach. I’d seen him last night and we’d spoken, I’d slapped him, and he acted like nothing had happened…we kissed. But that wasn’t me. That was a drunken Isabella— out of her mind Isabella.

An obviously stupid Isabella.

Right now, as his challenging eyes locked with mine, all I could see were flashes of that evening when he’d taken my body on a table, in a restaurant, unwilling, forcefully, to meet his needs. His smell, his kisses, the way he’d made me cum, the way he had felt so big and strong and like nothing could possibly ever stop him. His fucking touch. The way it had burned. The way he left after I begged him to stay, shattering every dream and idolization and fucking pedestal I’d placed him on.

After he forced me.