Chapter ~16

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Vanessa's POV:-

“Why would you find out about the complaint first instead of me? I don't see any police or my hands in some pathetic cuffs yet.” That was my response to Dante although I know why he knew.

It is simple. He is the Cosa Nostra and all the police here are just some suckers he carries in his pocket. So, when they must have identified me from watching the footage, the first thing they did was contact the man who pays them more than the system. That's why corruption exists. Greed and that sucker is literally crowding every corner of this dying earth.

“I would never let anyone restrain your hands sister and if someone has the guts to cuff them, he will lose more than he sowed.” Of course he will. No one disrespect the mafia princess, even if she is a damaged goods.

Why? Because it's a matter of pride and power. If someone disrespects the bloodline of the Capo, what power does he really hold?

“Even if I kill someone?” My question was sarcastic, like a normal girl who spent her life in a normal world would ask. Only if they knew that their normality is a dream desired by those who are chained by some monsters.

“Yes, even if you kill someone. I'll be damned if I see your hands cuffed while I'm alive.” He didn't stop to think for a second, his answer was immediate.

Why didn't he think? Why didn't he say that I will deserve it? It would have been hypocritical if said that considering his line of work and the fact that the money he eats is reaped by him becoming a grim reaper for some unfortunate people.

“Then why are you whining about a little complaint?” I was honest. If he could care less about me murdering someone and roaming free, why is a small complaint by some sick dick matters? He shouldn't even have brought it up.

“That's not it works.” He sighed, shaking his head.

“Then kindly enlighten me how does it work?” I gritted out the words.

I was angry at myself. I could have ignored him and his words, I could have kept my mouth shut, but for some reason I didn't. And it irked me. Why am I not ignoring him like I would? Why am I even fucking entertaining this conversation? No idea. The answer is lost and that's it. Only conclusion I had was to blame my lost sanity.

“This is how it works. I will get you out of the mess and then you will face the consequences of your action at home.”

Consequences. I had faced many. The word has lost its significance in my vocabulary. Because when I used to cry, I was taught a lesson. When I put up a fight, they made me face the consequences.

Consequences and torment. Both means the same to me. When you manipulate someone and blame their actions for it, they face consequences because it's you who think they did something wrong. Torment? It's also another person getting off of someone pain and will hold the said person liable.

The fucked up concept my mind believes can't be understood. Not unless you also had to face consequences for just breathing.

The stubbornness that forced me to talk vanished leaving behind the ashes of burnt I just felt. The bitterness engulfed my senses like a rock sinking to the bottom of some ocean.

“What will you do? Slap me? Punch me? Strangle me till I pass out? What kind of consequences are we talking about?” The words were a poison that I spat out of spite.

Lost In The Darkness {Edited}Where stories live. Discover now