RUN |on hold|

Prisoner or Worker?

chapter Eleven

Asterins POV

It was ironic. Really!

All my life I had felt that my life was dark and lonely. But when I looked around at my current situation, a sardonic, dry laugh gurgled from my throat.

I had been down here for about two days now, but why?

I had no idea myself.

If someone had told me half a year ago that I was being held captive in a cold cellar by a Mafia boss, I would probably have called the next best clinic.

It couldn't have been more absurd!

And the constant darkness and ghostly silence certainly didn't do my psyche any good either. Memories and images kept popping up in my head and there was nothing I could do about them. They came and went as they pleased. My demons were slowly but surely eating me up from the inside.

But I didn't want to die yet.

At least not like this. That much was certain and I'd be damned if I wasn't going to fight that psychopath up there. I'm pretty sure I wasn't quite sure of myself by now....

Guilt had taken up residence in my mind and was speaking to me day by day.

My uncle, the psychopath from upstairs, Chiara, my parents....

They all woke me up from my light slumber and took away any possibility of relaxing my tense body and mind.

It was perhaps two hours later before my cell door opened and three men and a woman entered the room.

I couldn't make out their faces because the sudden brightness took away my vision for the time being. Which was probably just as well, because I'm pretty sure that if I had known right away who was standing in the cell, I would have gone crazy and done things that I would have regretted in retrospect.

But only maybe...

"Jesus Christ, turn the fucking lights off. I can't see," I grumbled, squinting from between my fingers.

When I realised who was standing in front of me, I began to curse inwardly and threw my head back against the cold stone wall. The cold and the strange smell that floated around down here was unfortunately familiar to me by now. And I was pretty sure that the smell didn't come from rotten roses!

Lorenzo and one of his bodyguards spoke softly in Italian while the other stared at me with Chiara.

I was probably as horrible to look at as I felt. I wouldn't blame them if they took flight. Which would be to my advantage, of course, but alas, it didn't look like they would be leaving any time soon.

The good Lord really didn't like me. Partly I thought that my guardian angel sometimes turned his head ignorantly to the side and pretended that nothing had happened.

I only realised that I had been spoken to when I felt the tip of a foot against my leg. And not lightly at that.

"Heh! No need to get violent right away. Arschloch!"

--> Asshole

Unimpressed, Lorenzo looked down at me and leaned down a little further. Hah, come closer and I'll destroy your beautifully straight nose! Grumbling, I looked him in the eye and repressed the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

He deserved it.

With a speed I had never seen before, his hand sprang forward, but before I could avoid him, however, he grabbed my chin and pressed his fingers into my skin. Hissing, I squinted my eyes slightly and blinked against the pain. Aggression problems this guy has, I tell you!

"You will listen to me now, Cagna! What do you want from us and why did you take part in a fucking shootout? And don't you dare lie to me. Sarebbe un peccato distruggere un viso così bello."

--> Bitch             --> It would be too bad to destroy such a beautiful face.

The urge to kick him in the balls or somewhere else became more urgent by the second. The thought that he could kill me with a snap of his fingers didn't help either.

I closed my eyes briefly and snatched at his hand, which was still painfully resting on my chin. My fingernails dug into his wrist, but he didn't even bat an eyelid. I almost screamed in frustration. That fucking asshole.

Actually I was a calm person, more or less, but that fucking asshole made me spit fire. An image popped into my head of puffs of smoke coming out of my ears.

A small smile crept onto my face and I must have looked like a psychopath who had just been given her favourite lollipop.

My thoughts swirled through my head and made no sense.

With a snort, I looked up and looked directly into Lorenzo's eyes.

Blue eyes bored into mine and radiated an icy coldness. His black hair fell into his forehead and almost covered his eyes. A haircut would certainly do him good.

"First of all my dear, I don't want anything from you and secondly, I'm hanging on for dear life and since I was shot at, I shot back. Questions answered? Wonderful then I can finally go."

But my foot couldn't even make decent contact with the ground before Lorenzo pulled me up and pushed me against the wall. His hand had disappeared from my chin and was now at my throat instead.

Kinky...

"Stop playing with me. Just tell us which mafia you're a spy from and then I'll show you mercy and make your body parts hang together."

His deep voice sounded emotionless, but I could tell his anger was breaking through the shell.

A hoarse laugh slipped from my throat and a cough followed. "Listen, big boss. I'm not a spy. Not as far as someone putting a chip in me while I sleep."

Words in Italian were exchanged while the hand around my throat didn't flinch an inch.

I couldn't look that fast, Lorenzo released his hand from my neck and took a step back.

His face devoid of any emotion, he looked down at me and then said quietly but no less authoritatively, "In that case, I'll offer you a deal. You can either work for me as an interpreter or I will kill you."

Eyes and mouth wide open, I stared at him and swallowed.

Was my life worth that much to me?

To work with this monster and then go into the mafia myself?

Thoughts, pros and cons swirled through my head until finally I nodded.

The men nodded and the next few minutes blurred.

The only thing I noticed was Chiara helping me up and leading me into a room.

What had I gotten myself into...?

Thank you for 62 Reads, Lovelies <3