The Long Lost Mafia Prince

Chapter 30 - I'm Already Forever Damned

"Fuck! Gah, that bloody hurts, you fucken' scoundrel!" He yelled, clutching his forehead. 

I rolled my eyes. "Point exactly, you dumb mutt. Hope that shook your brain– Oh, wait. You don't fucking have on--" 

A burning pain struck me in my abdomen, making me shut up and instinctively grind my teeth together to repress a sound of pain that would exit my mouth. 

"Now, you listen here, and listen well, princess, in these places, you have no power. In here, I am in charge of whether or not you would live, so be a good little girl, and shut the hell up, got it?" 

I didn't grace him with a reply, and instead opted on continuing on glaring daggers at him. I couldn't open my mouth even though I wanted to, anyway. Considering that he was pressing his finger on the poorly covered wound of mine that the gunshot went to. 

"Why…" I grunted. "Why save me from a bullet? It would've been much easier and faster for you." 

He smirked, giving my wound one single press before whispering, "Now, now. Where would be the fun in that?" He then smiled sinisterly, "You don't deserve a quick and easy death, Queen Bloodlust. You deserve a life full of torture. Plus, you're going to have to turn your Mafia into ours before you drift off into hell."

I smiled through bloody teeth, "Well, Death King," I said, using his official title, as he did mine, "I'd like to see you try to make me. Emphasis on 'try'."

"Oh trust me, I will, and will succeed."

~~

Hours? Days? Weeks? Oh, fuck 'em time. Time doesn't exist in this temporary hell hole that I'm occupying for the time being. 

Various torture methods have been induced on me, some were even so familiar that I had wondered how they knew of my style of torture until I remembered that Angelo Romano had betrayed me. 

Since when? I have no idea. All I know is that when I get out of here, he'll have his own taste of new torture that I have planned for him. 

My body has been disfigured already. More times than once, actually. The bullet wound? Oh, that was like nothing compared to the new dagger scars that I had accumulated. Also, they cut off my hair, which now made it hang up until my shoulders in an uneven way. 

Food? None. Water? None. My meds? Why am I even bothering? 

But even through all of this, I never yielded. No, not once. 

I never begged for them to stop. I never begged for them to give me food. I never begged for them to let me go. I never begged for them to have mercy. 

Why would I? All my life I had been taught to never bow down to anyone regardless of anything. Anything at all. So, why would I? 

Now, I'm currently being hung in the air, my hands being suspended from the ceiling by a pair of sturdy shackles that bound my whole wrists up to my fingers. My toes were hardly scraping along the ground, and my clothes had been tattered by the knives, punches, bullets, and whips that it had went through with. 

Once again, the face that I had come to hate more than before entered the torture chamber, an annoyed yet satisfied look on his face. "Give up yet?" Cavillor taunted.

I scoffed and laughed as maliciously as I could. I probably looked insane, laughing maniacally as I was suspended in the air.

Finally stopping, I turned to look him in the eye and said, "Break me. Do all you can to break me, but know this, Cavillor Flare." I grinned like a psycho, "I'm already forever damned. And whenever you see my face, I hope it gives you hell, knowing that I'll never give my Mafia to you, or anyone."

We both had a staredown before he nodded, and said out loud, "Bring him in." 

Inwardly, his words caused a battalion of emotions to surge into me, but I kept my face as it was before, staring straight at his eyes that were looking straight back at me. 

By my peripheral bison, they brought in a figure, a male, by the look of it, and made him kneel beside Cavillor. There was a black bag covering his face, stopping me from knowing who it was. By the sounds of the muffles that came from him, I could only conclude that his mouth was probably covered in duct tape, which prevented him from saying anything. 

With his eyes still locked in mine, Cavillor grabbed hold of the top of the bag, and pulled. I kept his gaze for a longer while before slowly going down to the person who's stared back at me, my silver-red eyes meeting familiar and familial silver ones.

~~

[1465]

{A/N: Hey Cagna!

Bwuahahahaha! I'm itching to not update the next chapter to keep ya'll on your toes, but I promised triple so...

Before you continue, any guesses who that is? And did anyone guess that the traitor was Angelo?

I mean, I tried to hide it but be obvious too...

Bah, just continue.

From Me To You,
Z}